It was so simple and so lovely—a plain, glowing purple orb that pulsated with arcane energy. It looked delicate, but it had survived a blast that had reduced a city to ashes without so much as a scratch on its surface.
Kalecgos had not exaggerated the power of the item—or, she thought with a stab of fresh grief, the violence it could wreak in the wrong hands. She could feel the energy almost washing over her physically from the artifact’s proximity. Her hair stood on end, and she felt her eyes strain for a moment, then adjust, and knew that they were glowing even brighter now. Purposefully she began to climb down into the crater. Rhonin’s remains were nowhere to be seen. It appeared that he had succeeded in drawing the bomb directly to him. All that remained of Rhonin were two children, a grieving widow—if Vereesa had been far enough away to have survived the blast—and his memory. Jaina tasted bitterness in her mouth at the thought. He had died trying to save her. She would not let his death be in vain.
She reached the bottom. The Focusing Iris was at least twice her size and certainly heavy. She could teleport it with her and hide it for now, but the most pressing thing was how to conceal it from Kalecgos. The solution struck her almost at once. Kalec had come to know her well, had grown to care for her. Jaina bent down and placed her hand on the artifact, feeling a gentle thrum of energy. Coldly, calculatedly, she proceeded to ward it with her deepest sense of self, holding in her mind her greatest strengths and weaknesses. When he sought to find the Focusing Iris, he would sense only her. She would use Kalec’s feelings for her to trick him. As the sole remaining survivor and ruler of Theramore, Jaina Proudmoore claimed the Focusing Iris for her own.
The Horde wanted war. They had gone to grotesque lengths to crush their enemy.
If war was what they wished, Jaina would give it to them.
With pleasure.
20
It was, finally, beginning to work.
There were still tremors from the wounded earth and sharp, angry lightning. The wind still wept and the oceans roared about the shaman as they stood, day after day, offering of themselves to heal the very soul of Azeroth. But there was progress.
Sometimes, the ocean seemed to becalm itself for a few moments. The rain would stop for longer and longer stretches, showing glimpses of blue sky. The earthquakes once ceased for three whole days.
The members of the Earthen Ring—Nobundo, Rehgar, Muln Earthfury, and others—took each little sign to heart. Just as with healing an injured body, it would take time to heal Azeroth. But the elements would, eventually, recover—as long as the care was maintained throughout the lengthy and grueling process.
Thrall stood strongly and securely on the shivering earth, at once rooting himself and drawing its pain from it. He envisioned his spirit, his union with the great Spirit of Life, soaring boldly upward to touch the very sky. He drew spray-damp air into his lungs, purifying it and breathing it out cleansed. It was hard work, demanding work, and, thus far, ceaseless work. But it was the most profoundly rewarding and, yes, joyous thing he had ever done in his life.
Calmed now, like a frightened child gradually drifting to sleep, the earth’s trembling subsided. The winds, angrier, died down more sullenly. But the rain ceased. The shaman opened their eyes, returning to the simple physical reality, and exchanged weary smiles. It was time to rest.
Aggra’s strong brown hand curled around Thrall’s, and she looked at him with approval and admiration. “My Go’el has become a rock instead of a whirlwind,” she said. “Since your return, we have made great strides.”
He squeezed her hand. “If I am a rock, then you are the sturdy soil it rests upon, my heart.”
“I am your mate, and you are mine,” she replied. “We will be, like the elements, what each other needs when times are trying. Stone, wind, water—or fire.” She winked. It had been Aggra who had pushed him toward his destiny when he had been ill at ease with the other shaman. There had been nothing of subtlety about her. Thrall had been angry at the time but had grown to see her wisdom. Since his return, they had been inseparable—working together as if in a dance, delighting in each other’s company when at rest. He thought again of his words to Jaina and sent a silent prayer to whoever might be listening that she be blessed as he had been.
Thrall’s good mood faded when they returned to camp and saw a young orc dressed in light leather armor, waiting at attention. The dust and mud on his clothing proclaimed him a messenger, and the grim look on his face spoke eloquently of the nature of the news he bore.
He saluted smartly. “Go’el,” he said, bowing low, “I bring news from Orgrimmar. And… from elsewhere.”
Coldness seized Thrall’s heart. What had Garrosh done? Others, too, were approaching, looking mildly interested at the stranger in their midst. Thrall debated reading the news privately but decided against it. News was news for them all, for he was no longer warchief of the Horde.
He waited until the rest of the Ring had arrived, then motioned for them to come forward. The unfortunate young orc shifted his weight, clearly expecting the request that Thrall gave him. “Read your missive to everyone, my young friend,” Thrall said quietly.
The messenger took a steadying breath. “‘It is with a heavy heart that I inform you of nothing short of disaster to any thought of peace in this troubled continent—indeed, perhaps in the entirety of Azeroth. Garrosh gathered the Horde armies and marched on Northwatch Hold, razing it utterly. He then waited several days, allowing the Alliance to build up its defenses at Theramore. Against our navy and army, Theramore brought in the 7th Legion’s fleet and several well-known military advisors, among them Marcus Jonathan, Shandris Feathermoon, Vereesa Windrunner, and Admiral Aubrey. The Horde fought bravely but was defeated—seemingly.
“‘Go’el, Garrosh utilized enslaved molten giants to gain his victory in the Razing of Northwatch Hold. And to destroy Theramore, he—’”
The courier paused as a series of gasps rippled through the crowd. Former Horde and Alliance members were both gathered here, their loyalties placed aside in the face of the greater need, but still precious. And as shaman, to hear of the enslavement of elementals—and such elementals!—to wage war was horrifying. The words “destroy Theramore” hung in the air.
“Continue,” Thrall said grimly.
“‘To destroy Theramore, he stole an artifact from the blue dragons and used it to power the most potent mana bomb ever created. Theramore has fallen utterly, in an arcane ruin, and our scouts say that no one inside the city walls survived.’”
No one survived. Jaina, his friend, the constant voice of peace, was gone. Thrall found he had difficulty breathing, and Aggra squeezed his hand. He tightened his own grip until he knew it was painful; still Aggra held on, loving and supporting him, knowing more than most the stabbing pain that was in his heart.
Quiet sobbing could be heard as one of the draenei turned to her troll friend for comfort. The troll embraced the draenei gently but looked furious. Everyone was stunned, even those Thrall knew to be opposed to peace. Such wanton slaughter held no honor for the Horde. And such recklessness would have a dear price to pay.
Unbelievably, there was yet more to hear. Unable to speak just yet, Thrall motioned for the courier to continue.
The young orc’s own voice was heavy with sorrow as he spoke. “‘Our navy has dispersed, to form a ring around Kalimdor and blockade the Alliance. There will be no aid coming to Feathermoon Stronghold, or Teldrassil, or elsewhere, nor will any significant number of their inhabitants escape. Garrosh has openly boasted of conquering the entire continent and either driving out or wiping out all traces of the Alliance. The only light I can offer, my friend, is that not all the members of the Horde throng about Garrosh delightedly. Some of us see the dangerous path he is treading and fear that the Horde itself will suffer for it. With apprehension for my people, I remain your friend, Eitrigg.’”