Sunreavers and Goblins

The messenger was a human, Alleria thought that if he hadn't been wearing the armor of the Argent Crusade, he probably would have been captured and tortured long ago. Even so, humans were still unwelcome in Quel'Thalas.

"Your Majesty, Ranger-General, it is an honor to meet you! I am so sorry to bother you like this, but this matter is extremely important."

"Welcome to Silvermoon City, friend of the Argent Crusade." Alleria's eyes fell on the letter in the messenger's hand. "Could you tell me more specifically what message you brought?"

"I think you should know Stephan Marius."

The Regent nodded. "The last time I met him, he was just a child." Alleria thought of Nathanos's younger brother, who aspired to become a knight. It seemed he had achieved his dream, and Alleria was happy for him.

"It's good that you remember." The messenger presented the letter with both hands, along with a long, thin package. Alleria initially thought it was one of the messenger's personal belongings. "He said you'll understand once you see this."

What else did he say?

The messenger shook his head, implying that all the answers lay in the letter and the item.

"Liadrin." The Regent summoned the Countess again; she was right outside the door.

"Please give your orders, Regent."

"Send a messenger to leave safely."

Only Alleria and Vareesa remained in the room, but this time there were two more items.

Alleria glanced again at the mysterious, covered object. He grabbed a corner of the cloth and ripped it open. Alleria had already guessed what was inside the package the moment he saw it, but the Regent was curious as to why Stephan would send an arrow.

"There are words on it, sister." Vareesa pointed to the rust on the side of the arrow, quite surprised. She noticed that the handwriting looked like that of Alleria.

Unbeknownst to Vareesa, Alleria's attention was completely captivated by the arrow. The Regent's expression froze in shock. Fragments of memory surfaced before her eyes. "Vendel'o eranu," she said, her voice trembling violently, filled with anguish. It was a Sauras language word meaning: Let me forget.

"Why is it still here?" Alleria managed to squeeze out another sentence, her whole body already heating up from tension. "It should have turned to ashes, so why is it still here?"

"What is this, sister?"

"Where's the letter?" Alleria didn't answer Vareesa's question, but quickly tore open the letter. There was only one sentence on it, but the hesitant handwriting showed how terrified the writer was, just like Alleria was now.

"He's still alive!" Vareesa read aloud instinctively after glancing at the contents of the letter. Unbeknownst to her, Alleria felt dizzy and disoriented from her voice, as if a thunderbolt had struck her mind.

The regent broke out in a cold sweat and, in her panic, knocked over the cup that still contained tea. The cup shattered on the ground, just like her heart—broken, terrified, and in excruciating pain, as if being cut by a knife.

"This can't be!" She gripped Vareesa tightly with both hands, the only way to prevent her from losing her balance and falling to the ground. "This can't be!"

"Sister?" Vareesa was completely startled by Alleria's unusual behavior. At the same time, she sensed that her dearest relative was afraid of something, which was completely different from the calm and composed regent she knew.

"He's still alive! That can't be!"

"Who are you talking about?" the Ranger-General asked anxiously. To her surprise, the next moment, tears streamed down Alleria's face, that feeling of being lost and helpless... Vareesa's eyes widened. She had seen Alleria in such pain before, and in her memory, only one person could turn the strong-willed Alleria into a fragile little girl.

She stared blankly at her sister, already having made up her mind.

"No, how could this be?" Vareesa tried to shake Alleria, trying to rouse her; perhaps things weren't as she thought. "Didn't you say he was burned to ashes?"

Alleria tore the letter to shreds through gritted teeth, shouting, "So this must be fake. Stephan Marius, that wretched brat, dared to play tricks on me. I clearly freed my husband from Undead spirit at Marius Farm, yet he torments me with memories of the past. I will..."

Just as Alleria was about to unleash even more furious anger, she noticed Belorell's familiar face. He was standing outside the curtain, watching her. While the Regent was tormented by his memories, her son had also arrived. From the astonished look on the young Elf's face, Alleria knew that the strained mother-son relationship hadn't changed much since their last argument.

Belorell's eyes were filled with terror and confusion, and seeing this, Alleria's heart sank. She tried to calm herself, but Belorell slowly took a few steps back and turned to leave. Watching her son disappear, Alleria's anger poured out like water from a burst dam, leaving only endless emptiness in her heart. She returned to her chair, panting heavily, still shaken.

Vareesa looked at Alleria with deep concern. The arrow still lay on the table, its cold metal surface bearing witness to the Regent's painful past. Vareesa felt that no one could truly understand the depth of Alleria's suffering. No one had ever understood, neither now nor in the future.

"I must check it myself." Alleria finally calmed down, though she still looked exhausted. "I must go to Marius Farm myself."

Onyxian maintained his balance and glided downwards. Finding a foothold on the open sea wasn't easy, but a breath of icy breath from the Twilight Dragon solved the problem. He landed on an ice floe, lowered his head, and waited for the person on his back to disembark. Not far ahead was a patch of mist, and to Onyxian's surprise, he couldn't see what lay beyond it.

"We've arrived, Father."

Nathanos carefully landed on the ice, walked to the edge of the ice floe, and placed his hand to his forehead, gazing at the mist. "It's hard to believe unless you see it with your own eyes, my child. Even you don't know what's behind the mist, do you?"

Onyxian looked slightly guilty and said, "The fog is strange, Father. I still think you shouldn't have gone alone."

"My mind is made up, Onyxian." Nathanos turned and looked up at the Twilight Dragon. "While I'm away, protect the Forsaken. Also, keep a close watch on the Prism of Focus; don't let the blue dragons find its trail."

"I assure you, Father. No one can stop your plans."

The Witherer nodded; he would walk the rest of the road alone. Onyxian watched him leave, then spread its wings and soared into the air, flying towards Alterac.

The order has finally come down.

The Horde began its march.

The camp where the restless soldiers had long resided was hastily and swiftly prepared. Weapons, long since honed and sharpened to a finer edge amidst the boredom and frustration of being forced to remain stationary, were now placed in quivers and sheaths, ready to drink the blood of the Alliance. Armor stained red by the dawn's glow or by smeared paint was now neatly donned. The Horde army began its march.

"Maintain formation, you beasts on leashes!" Led by Malkorok, the Kor'kron guards rode their massive armored wolves, weaving through the ranks. The Blackrock Orc maintained order; chaos in the army was not what the Great Chief wanted.

Garrosh watched from a hillside. The frantic Warrior of his army for advantageous positions made Grommash grin. He was quite pleased with this eagerness, and raised his hand to direct the drummers at the rear of the army to begin beating their drums.

The sound of war drums echoed beneath the sky. This was the Horde. This was its glory. Its Warrior —mostly Orcs, some barefoot, some sandal-clad—made even the earth yield to their marching steps. Beneath their green, brown skin or fur lay taut, bulging muscles. Spears and swords, bows and daggers, all were in their hands, ready to strike. Like a surging torrent, they surged towards Theramore. Thousands upon thousands, all heading for one purpose: victory.

"Great Chief." Malkorok rode over on his wolf, his expression suggesting he had some good news to tell Grommash.

"What is it?" Garrosh asked.

"The Alliance fleet has arrived, and we have also discovered traces of Dalaran mages."

"Dalaran." The chieftain's eyes were filled with curiosity.

Malkorok nodded. "According to reliable sources, the Kirin Tor has agreed to aid Theramore. They have sent a group of mages to help, but some of them are our people."

"Very good." Garrosh laughed heartily. "Tell our spy to find out what the Alliance's plans are."

"We will face a battle from three directions," Sylvanas said. She stood there, pointing to the map of Theramore on the table. Everyone was now standing at the table. "The main gate and the north side gate of Theramore will be attacked, and as for the third direction..."

The door to the hall was pushed open. Several people stood in the doorway. Behind them were two guards who didn't seem worried about these people barging into the meeting hall without prior notice.

"We may have come at the right time," Khadgar said.

Jaina's face was beaming. She gave a hasty, slight bow; if it weren't for the formal occasion, she might have jumped for joy. "Welcome, Archmage. Your assistance has been timely and swift."

"It's nothing. If you want to thank someone, you should thank yourself for being an excellent diplomat and successfully persuading us to help you." Khadgar and Jaina exchanged a smile, and he began to introduce the people who had come with him. Jaina had already noticed them, and to her surprise, she found a Blood Elf and a Goblins among them.

"I know many of you," Jaina said warmly. She recognized three of them. The first was Archmage Vargoth, whom Jaina knew because of his close relationship with Sylvanas; it was said that the Ranger-General of the Silver Covenant was his benefactor, evidenced by the nod exchange between Vargoth and the Female Elf behind Jaina. The second was Archmage Mimik, a Gnome mage. The third was a human woman, also titled Archmage, named Melis, a master of fire magic, known as the Queen of Flame. Undoubtedly, they were all elites of Dalaran. Jaina believed that the Sunreavers and the Goblins were no ordinary men either. She looked at Khadgar with curiosity and inquired...

"This is Salen the Songweaver, sent by Archmage Aedass for assistance. As for this one..." Khadgar reached out to the Goblins, who was dressed entirely in black, as if attending a party, but comically, he wore a tall black hat and a black cloak.

"I found him," Sylvanas answered quickly, shocking everyone. "His name is Akazamzarah, a mage belonging to the Silver Covenant."

Akazamzarah removed his hat and bowed to Jaina and Sylvanas. "The general said my abilities would be of great help to you."

Jaina glanced at Sylvanas with a puzzled look, Female Elf chuckled, "Remember the plan I mentioned? Akazamzarah is an expert in this area."

"What exactly is the plan?"

Sylvanas's smile vanished the moment the Songweaver's voice rang out. She glared at the speaker, simultaneously relieved that Khadgar hadn't yet relayed her advice to anyone else. There were only two possible reasons: either it was for secrecy, or Jaina was still hesitant, and the ruler of Theramore hadn't made a final decision. The Female Elf glared at Salen and said, "None of your business. I'm more curious why Aethas didn't come himself. Was he afraid to face me, or his Great Chief?"

The Ranger-General's sarcastic words made Jaina frown. With a formidable enemy at hand, she didn't want the conflict between the Silver Covenant and the Sunreavers to spill over into her own domain. To ease the awkward atmosphere, the mage spoke before Salen could retort to Sylvanas, "I truly thank the Sunreavers for responding to my plea for help. Songweaver Weaver, I especially appreciate your presence. This must have been a difficult choice for Archmage Aethas."

Salen the Songweaver was tall and slender with sharp features and long, moon-colored hair. He spoke in a magnetic voice, "It is indeed difficult. However, Lord Aethas has decided to help Theramore. Especially since he was not initially opposed to supporting you, Lord Khadgar can attest to that."

Salen emphasized the last sentence, glancing at Sylvanas. A surge of anger rose within the Female Elf, but thankfully Jaina's cold hand caught her; otherwise, the Sunreavers might have been killed on the spot.

The Ranger-General scoffed, "Be careful, Sunreavers. You'd better make sure Aethas is genuinely helping Theramore."