The Name on the Tombstone

"What is your plan?"

"First, the bomb must be detonated in Theramore. Second, everyone must survive."

The female elf blinked, confused by Nathanos's contradictory words.

"My informants have sent word that Jaina is seeking the Kirin Tor's help."

"Yes, she hopes to gather the strength of many mages to defend Theramore." The female elf nodded.

"Do you know why Dalaran became a floating city?"

"I heard Jaina say that the Kirin Tor councillors used the power of the Eye of Dalaran. Why bring that up?"

The Witherer took out a prepared blueprint of a magic formation and handed it to Sylvanas. "If they can make a city fly, they naturally have the ability to instantly transport a city somewhere else."

Sylvanas drew in a sharp breath in disbelief, and even the hand holding the blueprint trembled. "This is... your method?"

"There is no better way. Tell Jaina that if she does not want rivers of blood, she had better accept reality."

The Ranger-General found Nathanos's thinking difficult to understand. It sounded too outrageous, practically fantastical. What if it failed? Could it succeed? Sylvanas did not voice either question. She thought Nathanos must have expected her to ask them and already had answers prepared to persuade her. So she merely asked in confusion, "Where will Theramore be transported?"

A trace of shame flashed through his eyes. Was it an illusion? Sylvanas finally read something from the subtle expression on the Witherer's face, but she could not probe any further.

"Somewhere safe."

"That answer will not help me convince Jaina."

"Just tell her it will minimize the casualties. She will not hesitate." With that, Nathanos rose to his feet. Sylvanas moved even faster than he did, and the two returned to that delicate atmosphere from when they had first faced each other.