Mirage at Sea (Maraudon Arc)

The black transport ship glided across the sea under the starry sky, whispers echoing in his mind. At first faint, they had become incessant, growing louder the closer they got to Kalimdor. Even focusing his attention elsewhere was impossible without them. These voices lingered for a long time, now indistinguishable from his own, but Nathanos paid them no heed.

'In the wilderness... she bound... her soul, in this Wailing Caverns.'

It warned again and again, recounting its experiences of betrayal in fits and starts.

The Witherer closed the Medivh's Book in his hands, chanting an incantation. Suddenly, the Guardian's legacy glowed with fire and vanished before his eyes. This work encompassed almost the entire past of Azeroth, the development of human civilization, and its vast magical knowledge. Although Nathanos wasn't a mage, he was still able to glean insights from the various strange magical runes. Thanks also to the Medivh's Book, Nathanos learned about the origins of the Bloodsail Pirates.

Years ago in Kul Tiras, a nobleman named Farivell was the strongest rival of then-Admiral Daelin Proudmoore. He possessed vast wealth and dozens of warships. After the outbreak of the Third War, Farivell was criticized for his refusal to participate in the war, and he left Kul Tiras to become a pirate captain. When he left, he also took many Kul Tiras warships with him, making Daelin Proudmoore deeply resentful of him. Therefore, Nathanos told Rivigaz that to deal with the Bloodsail Pirates, all they needed to do was hire a Kul Tiras to deliver information about Farivell to Daelin.

Recalling his deal with Rivigaz, Nathanos still felt a chill. No matter what, the Forsaken could not place their hopes on the living, but they also could not sever ties with them, or they would be no different from the Scourge. Nathanos had thought it through carefully; the Forsaken needed to deal with the living. He first targeted the Goblins. Throughout all of Azeroth, only this race was willing to have no bottom line for money. If even the Goblins were unwilling to deal with the Undead, then...

Nathanos shook his head, dismissing the fear that lingered in his mind. He focused his attention on the voice. It had started two days ago, when Nathanos was on deck enjoying the sea breeze. Several days had passed; who was speaking to him? And he had asked more than once, "Who are you?"

As before, the voice disappeared when he tried to find out the other person's identity. Whether it was because he was too embarrassed to speak, or Nathanos interrupted him, it was unclear.

The wooden ship traversed a giant wave. In the pitch-black night, no lighthouse could be found. To ensure their direction, Nathanos gave the pilot a compass. Huge stalactites hung from the cave ceiling like swords of fate.

Only by giving all the tedious instructions can Nathanos have enough energy to think about where they should go after Kalimdor.

'Wailing Caverns.'

The Witherer looked up and scanned his surroundings, making sure he was alone in the room, but he still had a feeling that someone was grinning and watching him.

"This place doesn't sound like a good place just from its name." Nathanos tried to appear nonchalant, knowing that the more nonchalant he was, the more anxious the other party would become.

The Whisperer remained silent for a long time. "Release my soul, Maraudon... it's yours."

The Undead blinked and used magic to make the Medivh's Book appear before him once more.

Maraudon? Maraudon! There is indeed a record of this place in the book, but it is only mentioned in one sentence: Maraudon, the burial ground of the Centaur.

"The dead will eventually return to dust, but I don't want to be buried underground yet."

'Close your eyes, close your eyes...'

Nathanos shook his head, shocked to find himself feeling weary and sleepy. The Witherer cried out in his heart, "Impossible!" He was already dead; he no longer needed food or sleep. But the feeling wasn't unreal; everything in his vision began to blur. An external force was trying to pull him into a dream.

Close your eyes!

Nathanos's head slumped onto the table, all the muscles in his body relaxed, and his mind wandered to another place.

This is a lake, and he is standing on its calm surface. His footsteps leave not a ripple.

"An illusion?" Nathanos looked down at his reflection. Behind him, another voice rang out.

"It's just a sliver of power from the Emerald Dream."

As the Witherer turned around, a pair of pale yellow eyes also looked down at him. Nathanos, the Forest Guardian, had seen a few of these half-human, half-deer creatures; they were said to be offspring of Cenarius.

"Who are you?" Nathanos asked absentmindedly. "I've asked that question many times."

The Forest Guardian raised his left paw, which resembled a tree branch, and paused. A moment later, a soft green light appeared in his palm, gradually growing dazzlingly bright. Nathanos stared at what he had summoned.

The light illuminated a scene—a desert. Kalimdor was not lacking in such landscapes. Nathanos couldn't immediately find anything that would catch his attention.

The Forest Guardian moved his hand in front of Nathanos, making it clearer for the Witherer.

The leader of the Forsaken saw it clearly; he saw billowing dust—it was war. Strangely, both sides in the conflict were Centaur. The only difference was the totems they wore.

"They're killing each other? How interesting!"

"They are my children," the Forest Guardian said, successfully drawing a surprised look from Nathanos. "My name is Za'tar, a direct descendant of the demigod Cenarius."

Nathanos silently observed Za'tar. His appearance differed somewhat from Cenarius's. If it weren't for Zalta's ability to transport him into a dream world, Nathanos would never have believed that the person standing before him was Cenarius's son.

Za'tar's withered face showed unease. As the image in his hand disappeared, he anxiously awaited Nathanos's response.

"Was it you who whispered to me? What do you want?"

Za'tar finally breathed a sigh of relief, fearing that Nathanos was not interested in what he had seen. "I need your help, outsider."

As the Forest Guardian spoke, his hand began to glow again. The light enveloped the entire lake, and the surrounding environment changed accordingly.

Nathanos found himself transported to the scene he had just witnessed. On the distant plains, the bloody conflict between Centaur continued, their shouts mingling with incomprehensible language. This race's savagery was in no way inferior to that of the Troll, perhaps even more Troll.

When Nathanos turned around, he saw Za'tar's eyes slowly losing their light, his brows gradually furrowing. Pain and anger twisted into new emotions, making his face look terrible, as if something was assaulting his soul.

Grief and indignation! Nathanos knew this all too well; it was an emotion born of betrayal, betrayal by even his closest kin. The way the Forest Guardian looked at the Centaur had convinced Nathanos that what he had just said was true.

"You say they are your offspring, and you see them turning against each other with weapons, aren't you going to stop them?"

"Let them kill each other; it would be best if they were all dead!"

The leader of the Forsaken laughed, "Lies are the best medicine to conceal the truth."

"Lies can become truth. I wish they would disappear. They... are my sins."

"You consider your offspring sinful? Do you think their mother would agree?"

Za'tar clenched his right fist as if the bones were shattering. Nathanos glanced at him, realizing he had hit a nerve. This, however, piqued the Witherer's curiosity. The Centaur was Za'tar's offspring; with whom had he conceived this savage creature? Judging from the Centaur's appearance, aside from its half-human, half-beast form, there was no trace of Forest Guardian or dryads.

Perhaps realizing he had become too emotional, Za'tar immediately calmed down. He was Cenarius' son; this was easy for him.

"Their mother is named Theradras, and she's the reason I'm looking for you."

Za'tar scooped up the dust from the ground with both hands, like a loving father with his son. With a casual flick of his wrist, the sand grains fell with the wind, but instead of returning to the ground, they sank into the lake they had just been in.

The son of Cenarius looked at everything he had done with admiration. He could no longer feel the pain that the battle between the Centaur had brought him, but he knew it still lingered—as long as it did, the curse on him would not be lifted.

"I've never heard of this name before. Who is she?" Nathanos asked, vaguely sensing that Za'tar's search for him was likely related to this Theradras.

Za'tar didn't want to discuss her with Nathanos, and the Forest Guardian shook his head. He hoped Nathanos would understand, but the Witherer's curiosity could only be quelled by an answer.

"You've seen the primal nature of the Centaur. What do you think?"

Can I say that you have failed in your parenting?

Za'tar gave a bitter smile. "Their very existence was a mistake; they are outsiders. Centaur have no reason whatsoever; they should be exterminated."

"I've never seen a father like you before."

"Have you ever seen a child who kills their own family?"

"What?" Nathanos stared wide-eyed at Za'tar, a profound grief awakening within him. How could he not have seen them, whether it was Arthas or him...?

"So you're dead, just like me!"

"Death is not scary; what is scary is not being able to find peace."

The Witherer frowned. As far as he knew, people like Druids or Forest Guardian would go to the Emerald Dream after death. How could he not find peace? Had something unexpected happened that left Za'tar's soul in the material world?

This guess was quickly confirmed, and Za'tar nodded in agreement.

At this point, Nathanos fell silent, his crimson eyes lowered to gaze at his reflection. Za'tar began to recount his plight: after being killed by the Centaur Za'tar, Theradras imprisoned Za'tar's soul in a cave for unknown reasons. And that cave was Maraudon.

"So you want me to help you deal with Theradras and free your soul."

"Yes, I need your help. If you defeat Theradras, I'm willing to give you anything I can."

Nathanos found it strange. Given Za'tar's status, the Night Elf shouldn't have ignored him. Why was he seeking his help? But no matter how Nathanos questioned him, Za'tar shook his head and refused to answer. The Witherer had no choice but to give up and instead inquired about a more important matter.

"Maraudon... what kind of place is it?"

"The Witherer? The Witherer? Nathanos!"

The increasingly urgent shouts brought Nathanos's consciousness back to his body. The first person he saw when he opened his eyes was Veronalara.

"What's wrong?"

The Dark Ranger was taken aback; she should have been the one asking that question.

"It's nothing, the Witherer. We can already see the coastline of Kalimdor."

Nathanos nodded. "Tell Tatsel that if they cannot reach Kalimdor before dawn, they should stay at sea for a day and come ashore at night."

"Yes, ma'am." Veronalara closed the door.

Nathanos looked at the Medivh's Book on the table. Wailing Caverns? That must be a place name. Nathanos flipped through the useful information in the book.

Finally, he learned that it was a vast, desolate land where a son of the demigod Cenarius and a princess of the chaotic earth elemental had created the Centaur. Tragically, the Centaur murdered their father. Afterwards, due to the Centaur' constant fighting, Wailing Caverns became a barren wasteland.

"The Earth Elemental Princess!" Nathanos couldn't suppress his laughter. No wonder Za'tar found it hard to speak; a guardian of nature, walking alongside servants of the Old Gods! No wonder Za'tar received no help from the Night Elf, or his brothers and sisters. His actions were a curse in themselves, and a disgrace to Cenarius. The Centaur race, indeed, as Za'tar said, was his sin!

But... why? Why would Theradras imprison Za'tar's soul? What is her purpose? Nathanos grew increasingly curious, his gaze sweeping over the information on the Earth Elemental Princess.

Theradras, daughter of the earth Elemental Lords Theradras, would be a formidable enemy if defeated, forging an unbreakable bond with the earth elementals. However, Za'tar had already agreed to Nathanos's terms, conditions that the Forsaken desperately desired.

Nathanos began to weigh the pros and cons, wishing he were a Goblins who could take any risk for profit.

The Witherer thought for a long time, and a voice in his heart grew louder and louder.

Why not? The elements cannot escape the boundaries of the plane, and even if Theradras knew her daughter was in trouble, there was nothing she could do. Most importantly, the Forsaken need their own territory, Forsaken need a place to hide!

For the Forsaken!