“Yes, it involves the druids… and Malfurion, in particular.”
Shandris nodded, her expression unreadable.
“We must find a way to bring him back to us, Shandris. For many reasons. Whatever is going on in the Emerald Dream not only involves the druids, but I believe that it is touching Teldrassil… and perhaps other parts of Azeroth as well …”
The general’s eyes narrowed to slits. “There were some vague reports… mostly scattered and uncertain at first… from the human and dwarven lands. They mentioned in part something about those who can’t wake up. Something like Malfurion’s situation, come to think of it …”
Tyrande glanced at the moon for reassurance. Then, putting a hand on the other’s shoulder, she murmured, “Elune indicated to me that Malfurion is dying. I expect you know that already.”
The general gazed into her eyes. “I do. And I’m sorry. So sorry.”
Tyrande smiled sadly. “Thank you. But Elune also indicated that this is beyond my own personal concerns and that I must look to absolutely whatever must need to be done for the sake of Azeroth itself… and that is why I have summoned you.”
Shandris Feathermoon immediately went down on one knee.
“Give whatever command you must of me, mistress! I will do what you say, go where you say. My life is yours… always!”
The old guilt returned. “I have a tremendous favor to ask of you.
A favor, not a command …”
“Ask it!”
“You know of Broll Bearmantle.”
“More warrior than druid, that one, mistress,” Shandris said as reply.
“Broll is heading to Ashenvale in the hopes of rescuing Malfurion. You understand how?”
In her desire to be the best commander possible, Shandris had created a network for gathering information that stretched far beyond Darnassus and the night elf lands. Thus, Ashenvale, a part of the latter, was easily within the province of her studies.
Shandris’s expression tightened, but there was also a hint of approval.
“It’s daring. Dangerous. And the only hope at this point, I’d say.”
“I do not intend for him to enter alone.”
“I suspected you had something in mind, so I prepared in advance for a longer journey!” The other night elf’s eyes glowed with anticipation. Shandris leapt to her feet, her fist pressed against her breast. “I can depart immediately from here! I know the danger and the necessity of this mission! It cannot be entrusted to just anyone—”
“Exactly.” Tyrande straightened, determined that she speak now as ruler. “And that is why I shall be the one who will join him.”
Her words struck like lightning. Shandris stumbled back a step.
She gaped at the high priestess.
“You? But Darnassus needs you! I am the one who must go—”
“Elune has shown me that I, as her high priestess, am best suited. This task will require the full teachings of the Sisterhood and as its head I could ask no other to do this. In addition, no one knows Malfurion as I do… no one is bound to him as I am. If his dreamform can be found, I am the one who will be able to do it.”
Her gaze was strong. “And while saving Malfurion is of the utmost desire for me personally, he may also be Azeroth’s only hope. As high priestess I must be the one who accompanies Broll …”
Shandris finally nodded. But though agreeing, the general still had questions.
“What does Fandral think of this?”
“I do not answer to Fandral.”
“Sometimes he seems not to understand that.” There was a brief moment of humor in Shandris’s eyes. She was one of the handful aware that he and her mistress did not always see eye to eye on matters of how Tyrande governed, especially when her decisions affected the druids and his sphere of influence. Then, growing serious again, she continued, “And Darnassus?”
“Darnassus must be yours to guard, Shandris, as you have done when I have had to leave it for other matters of state.”
“This is hardly the same …” Still, once more the warrior went down on one knee. “But I will protect the city and our realm as always until your return.”
Her pointed emphasis of the last word was almost a demand that Tyrande make certain that she would come back. The night elf ruler reached out and touched Shandris on the cheek.
“My daughter …”
At those words, the hardened warrior leapt forward and wrapped her arms around the high priestess. Shandris buried her face in Tyrande’s neck.
“Mother …” she whispered in a voice that sounded exactly like that of the frightened orphan of so long ago.
Then, just as quickly, Shandris pulled back. Other than a tearstain down one cheek, she looked again like the seasoned commander of the Sentinels. She saluted Tyrande.
“I’ve just the mount for you,” Shandris said. “As I said, he’s ready for a long journey. Also, there is no finer. He’s not far away.
Just follow me.”
Shandris turned crisply and led her deeper into the woods.
Neither spoke, but both were deep in thought.
After almost five minutes Tyrande heard the shuffling of a large creature. As Shandris did not show any concern, the high priestess was content to follow.
A moment later they confronted a large male hippogryph tethered to a massive oak. His plumage was more striking than those animals ridden by the group, the feathers darker and more dramatic, with crimson lines across the ebony wings and slight turquoise markings on the upper edges. Crimson feathers also lined the otherwise blue-black head. The hippogryph also wore a protective helm over his head and some body armor. Although all hippogryphs were powerful, this one was of a species especially adept at war.
“He and I have flown into battle together often. You may trust him as you trust me,” the general said quietly. “His name is Jai’alator.”
“‘Noble blade of Elune,’” Tyrande translated. “A proud name that.”
The hippogryph bowed his great head. The winged creatures were not simple beasts. They had an intelligence and were considered allies, not servants. They allowed themselves to be ridden.
“I am honored to fly with you,” Tyrande told the hippogryph.
Shandris undid the reins and handed them to her mistress. “He answers to ‘Jai.’ If you fly just above the trees, the others won’t see you depart. I’ll join the party in a few minutes, then delay them some more.”
Nodding, the high priestess took the reins. “Thank you, Shandris.” Tyrande recalled one last thing. “Shandris… be on alert.”
The general’s eyes narrowed. “For what?”
How to explain what she had fought against? “For that which the light of Elune must melt away …”
Shandris frowned at the explanation, but said nothing. She saluted once more, then whirled around and marched off in the direction of the other priestesses.
The high priestess wiped moisture from her own eye, then turned her thoughts to her imminent journey… not the least problem of which would be convincing Broll Bearmantle to take her to Ashenvale.
To the Great Tree.
And to the portal into the Emerald Dream.
7
AUBERDINE
Broll landed just beyond sight of Auberdine, already impatient to be on his way from its vicinity. Although officially part of the night elf realm, the region in general — called Darkshore due to the odd mist that tended to blanket everything — was mostly shunned by his race.
There had been attempts made to settle this land — some of them not by his kind — but all had fallen to failure. Ruins dotted the wilds, many of them now housing threats to travelers willing or forced to journey through the area.