He extended his senses, but there was too much magic in the air for him to sense anything clearly. The book could be right beneath my nose or miles away. Damn it! he thought in frustration.
Khadgar caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. He whirled, ready to defend himself. One of the bodies had moved, just a little. Its midsection was badly charred, and Khadgar realized that this was the orc Ner’zhul had attacked just before going through the portal. The one who'd called Ner’zhul a coward for leaving the others behind. Again, Khadgar was grateful he'd brought the ring that had enabled him to understand other languages, and he lowered his hands, watching closely.
The orc heaved and grunted, obviously in tremendous pain. It reached for something and, with great effort, held it out to Khadgar with an arm that shook. It was a large, heavily embossed rectangle with carved metal edges. Khadgar caught his breath as he recognized it.
The Book of Medivh.
"I am no… shaman. But Obris is smart enough to know… that this will be of use to you, will it not?"
Khadgar hesitated. The orc was a few steps away from death, but it could still be some kind of trick. "Yes," he said at last. "Why do you give it to me then? I am your enemy."
"You at least are an honorable foe," Obris growled. "Ner’zhul betrayed us. He re-formed the Horde, and forced my Laughing Skull clan back into the fold. He promised us a new start. But as soon as—" He coughed and then continued in a ragged voice. "As soon as he found safety, he fled. He and his favorites live… . The rest of us … we are nothing to him."
The eyes flashed with a final spark. "It would please me to know my last act… was to defy him. Take it. Take it, curse you! Take it and make him pay for his treachery."
Khadgar moved toward the dying orc and gently took the book from his blackened, bloody hands. "I promise you, Obris. We will do everything in our power to stop Ner’zhul."
The orc nodded, closed his eyes, and went still.
The vagaries of fate, Khadgar mused, quickly undoing the clasps and opening the book to glance through its pages. He remembered first seeing this massive tome back in Medivh's library only a few years ago. So much had changed since then; it felt like a lifetime. Then, he had been terrified of the book but overpowered by curiosity. Fortunately, its wards had prevented him from even turning the cover, or else the magics contained within might have destroyed him. Now Khadgar bypassed them with case, and skimmed the book's contents with growing excitement. As he expected, the book contained details about how Medivh and Gul'dan had worked together to create the rift. Armed with these necessary details and the still-lingering power in Gul’dan's skull, Khadgar was confident he could now shut down the Dark Portal for good. But could he do so in time?
He glanced up at the sound of beating wings. Several gryphons were circling the roof, wings spread as they prepared to land. Khadgar spotted Kurdran, and another Wildhammer was gesturing to the mage. Nodding, he threw the book in his sack, handed the precious bag up, then gripped the Wildhammer's outstretched hand and swung himself onto the gryphon.
"Where are Alleria and Turalyon?" Khadgar shouted to Kurdran.
"Speakin' tae 'is troops," the dwarf replied.
"They'll have to catch up, then," Khadgar said, shaking his head. "We have no time to waste! To the Dark Portal!"
The gryphons squawked as their riders tugged on the reins, then they wheeled about and rose, wings beating hard against the wind and the weight of two passengers each. Khadgar watched the Black Temple slip away behind them and closed his eyes, his hair and beard streaming out behind him. He held the sack close. With the gryphons they would reach the portal in minutes instead of hours or days. He just hoped it was soon enough.
Alleria rested her head on her lover's shoulder as the gryphon they rode hovered over the Black Temple. She squeezed Turalyon's waist gently, giving him silent support. She knew how bleak his heart was at what he was about to do. But she also knew he would not shirk what had to be done.
"Sons of Lothar!" Turalyon cried, raising his hammer high above his head. Alleria glanced away; its light pierced the clouds gathering above, shedding a brilliant white radiance upon the entire valley, from the Black Temple behind them to the mouth of the Alliance fort far ahead. "Months ago, we came through the Dark Portal, not knowing what awaited us, but knowing that we had to come. We had to come to stop the Horde from taking other worlds as it tried — and failed!—to do with our beloved Azeroth. And the moment to do precisely that has arrived, Khadgar has what he needs in order to close the portal, but this world is in chaos. Azeroth — our home — is in danger once again. We must all do everything we can — serve as best we may — to save it, and our families we have left behind."
He looked out over the men before him, and Alleria knew he was burning each face into his memory. "I go to help Khadgar, to protect him, for I am sure there will be resistance. You … must hold the line here. You have never failed me yet. I know, my brothers, you will not fail me now." His voice cracked. Through the tears in her own eyes, Alleria saw that he wept.
"None of us knows what will happen. We may survive this, and find a way home, and live to a ripe old age with stories to dazzle our grandchildren. Or we may die here, with this world. And if such is our fate, I know each one of you chooses it gladly. For we fight for our world — our families — our honor. We fight so that others might live free because of what we do here, today, this hour, this moment. And if there is anything in this world or any other worth dying for — the Light knows, it is this."
Alleria stared at him. His eyes, though still filled with tears, shone now with the radiant white light. Awe shivered through her. Bright… Turalyon, my love, you are so bright.
"Sons of Lothar! The Light is with you … as it always has been, and always will be. For Azeroth!"
His hammer glowed brighter than the day, and many of the captured orcs nearby fell to the ground screaming as its aura burned at their eyes. Turalyon's soldiers were strengthened by the glow, however, and cheered as the gryphon rose, carrying Turalyon and Alleria after the Wildhammers, toward the Dark Portal.
"I would I could stand with them," he murmured softly. She kissed his neck.
"You do, beloved. Their hearts are filled with the Light… and so you are there."
The scene around the Dark Portal was utter chaos. Turalyon had told his troops the unvarnished truth — Khadgar would need defending. He just hadn't realized how much he and his friends would be defending the wizard from.
Danath, Khadgar, Kurdran, and several others had arrived before them and were fiercely fighting their way to the portal. It seemed the orcs had rallied. Ner'zhu’s abrupt departure had stranded several clans on Draenor, and all of them had realized the same thing — the Dark Portal was the only stable rift, and the only one that led to a world they knew was hospitable.
Nor was the battle just on Draenor. One was raging on the other side of the portal as well — it would seem that once again, the orcs had wrested control of the portal from the Alliance. They were trying to push their way through the portal and back into Draenor, unaware of the cataclysm gripping their homeworld. The Alliance forces there were holding them at bay for the moment, but Turalyon could expect no aid. He and this handful were all that stood between the Horde and Azeroth.