"Marshal Windsor!"
"You are an inspiration to us all, Your Excellency!"
"You are a living legend..."
"You are courage forged in thorium."
"Marshal?" Reginald Windsor looked at the vision before him in surprise.
Countless guards of Stormwind City were crowding around him... no, around another version of him, a version in his fifties; he himself was merely a spectator, or perhaps a ghost.
"This must be a dream, right?" Windsor shook his head in disbelief... how could a common-born soldier like him ever become a marshal? Weren't ranks like marshal the exclusive preserve of Stormwind City's nobles?
As an ordinary soldier, even making captain or major in his lifetime would surely depend on Lord Lothar's patronage!
Despite knowing this was only a dream, Windsor still followed his counterpart in the illusion into Stormwind Keep amid a crowd of guards, though the keep seemed somewhat different from what he remembered.
Then he saw Duke Bolvar Foxtain, who looked to be in his fifties as well; he also saw the prince on the throne, who did not seem to be Prince Varian-the age did not match, and this prince did not appear to possess Prince Varian's dauntless righteousness.
Finally, he saw a beautiful lady standing close beside Duke Bolvar. Was she the duke's wife?
Then something astonishing happened. Marshal Windsor in the illusion strode forward and shouted at the lady:
"You cannot escape your fate, Onyxia. The prophecy foretold all of this-the visions that appeared in Karazhan foretold your end. Now, let us settle this... reveal your true form, black dragon!"
"The visions of Karazhan?" Windsor's eyes widened. Did that mean right now?
Khadgar looked at the scene around him in astonishment.
A blood-red sky appeared overhead, while the land around him became rugged and barren...
"Is this an illusion?" Khadgar