Banquet

A strong wind swept in from the south, dark clouds pressing down over the city. Howling gusts carried fallen leaves through the streets and lashed Nathanos's face, stinging sharply. The sun had still been shining when Nathanos spoke with Old Wu, but before he could help Old Wu finish the remaining chores—mostly tasks like cleaning bookshelves piled high with scrolls—the sky had darkened. Then the entire temple gradually fell silent.

Nathanos liked quiet surroundings. They allowed him to remain calm. Most of the Pandaren in the temple had already gone to bed. Only Nathanos remained awake, wandering through the grounds with energy to spare. He thought about how Old Wu had explained what the "Sha" were during the day. The Pandaren's panicked expression then had been far too exaggerated.

Sha were manifestations of a person's negative emotions. That was roughly what Old Wu had meant. He had also said that Pandaren were not the only ones affected by the Sha. Anyone who set foot in Pandaria might draw Sha demons to them.

What puzzled Nathanos was that, after so many days, he had not been attacked by any Sha. He looked down at his feet, where his faint shadow flickered in the firefly-like candlelight. Within a Forsaken burned an unquenchable rage, hatred for the Scourge, and uncertainty over the road ahead.

Anger, hatred, confusion—if these three negative emotions had always surrounded him, why was he unaffected?

"Has death made me unable to truly grasp my emotions?" Nathanos guessed. Perhaps he was not angry, did not hate anyone, and was not confused. Perhaps he merely believed he was.

"Rather than being unable to grasp them, it would be more accurate to say you have never understood them." A voice suddenly sounded behind him. Nathanos turned and saw that an elder was