“They still fight in the Nightmare, but their chances are waning, as are those of the few left fighting with them! They have no time or numbers to deal with this…”
The night elf gaped. “Darnassus!”
The Aspect eyed him. “Darnassus?”
“The portal there! It was open when I left! It may—”
Without another word, the Life-Binder veered toward the capital.
Her speed was such that in moments the city came into sight.
Alexstrasza tilted to her left, then headed toward what was left of the Temple Gardens.
She landed, then released the archdruid. Quickly looking around, Malfurion discovered Broll, Hamuul, and some of the other druids rushing toward him. In addition to them, a handful of Sentinels, including Shandris, also remained. Stunned stares took in the sight of the dragon.
“Shan’do!” Broll called as he ran. “Teldrassil is — is whole!”
“Would that the same could be said for Darnassus,” Shandris muttered as she joined those gathering around Malfurion. “Or the rest of Azeroth.”
The archdruid waved off further comment. “The portal? Is everyone through? Is it still function—”
As he spoke, Malfurion once again felt light-headed. The rush of adrenaline was fading. Broll and Hamuul had to grab hold of him.
But as Malfurion fought to recover, he suddenly felt a comforting presence nearby, one that he had never known before. It had a similarity to something that the archdruid had thought lost forever
…and that was what allowed him to identify it.
Teldrassil was reaching out to him. As it had been healed, so did it offer healing to Malfurion. Gone was not only the taint, but also Fandral’s touch. The World Tree was nearly as it would have been had it been Malfurion who had guided its creation.
“You know, then?” He heard Shandris growl. “It sealed just as the tree healed! We thought it at first something you’d done, but—”
“The Nightmare is sealing off all physical routes to the Dream,” the red dragon informed them. “So, it is too late here, as well.”
Malfurion said nothing as his head cleared somewhat. In touching him, Teldrassil had also revealed to the archdruid something of great interest.
Malfurion straightened. “The enclave…we must go there.”
Without waiting, the Aspect seized up not only him, but, as they stood with him, Broll and Hamuul, too. It was a simple thing for her to carry them the short distance to the enclave and then land again.
Fandral’s sanctum lay in ruins, the vines that had guarded his abode dead. There had been nothing to salvage in them; they had been the result of the mad archdruid’s work combined with the evil of the Nightmare.
“Is this where Fandral has always made his home?”
“Nay,” replied Broll. “He originally chose the top chamber in the largest tree. That tree there.” The other night elf pointed to an area not far away to the right. “But a short time back, he suddenly had this created.”
Malfurion nodded. “That verifies what I thought. I need but a moment.” He handed the small branch to Broll. “Watch this for me, but be wary of it.”
“I understand, Shan’do,” Broll murmured.
Malfurion stood with arms raised in the middle of the enclave.
Time was of the essence, and he prayed that what he attempted would not take long. He also prayed that he was not wrong in his assumption.
Though he stood, the night elf set himself into the beginnings of a meditative trance. Long experience enabled him to swiftly reach the state he desired, a place between the physical and dream worlds. It risked leaving him vulnerable to the Nightmare and Xavius, but it also opened him up to what Teldrassil offered.
He reached out with his mind and soul to the World Tree…and the tree welcomed him. Feeling its gentle touch both thrilled and saddened the archdruid. He prayed for Teldrassil’s recovery, for all of Azeroth’s recovery, should the world survive this assault.
Teldrassil prayed with him.
The night elf opened up his defenses to the tree. If there still remained any hidden hint of Xavius’s evil, Malfurion also opened himself up to his foe.
But all he felt was Teldrassil’s wondrous warmth. All the suffering, all the lack of food and rest, began to diminish. Malfurion smiled.
A primitive part of Malfurion wanted to escape into Teldrassil, become part of it and abandon his mortal existence. That was always a risk for druids, becoming so caught up in the glory of the natural world that their own existence paled.
But then the face that always pulled Malfurion’s heart and soul even more than this desire brought him back to harsh reality.
“Tyrande…” he whispered to himself.
Teldrassil seemed to echo his sentiment, for its leaves shook even though there was no wind and Malfurion swore that the sound they made was akin to the high priestess’s name.
Malfurion did not know how he could succeed in saving Tyrande.
He could only fathom one possible course.
The Life-Binder was the only one remaining with him, Malfurion never daring to ask an Aspect to leave. Yet, Alexstrasza remained patiently silent, apparently deciding that the night elf was the one whose actions meant most at the moment.
He crouched, setting one hand on the ground before the sanctum. As he did, Malfurion spoke with Teldrassil, asking it to help him reveal the truth.
The power flowed from both the archdruid and the tree. The damaged structure trembled. The once-deadly vines became ash and the artifices set in place by Fandral fell away. The sanctum reshaped, becoming something familiar yet astounding.
“Impossible!” Broll muttered.
Rising, Malfurion stepped toward his discovery. He had sensed its presence. He had known it would be here, despite the fact that it should not.
Fandral had in secret created his own portal to the Emerald Dream.
It was simple, its round form shaped by winding branches and stonework. Powerful spells had masked it from the others.
“It is still open…” Alexstrasza said.
Malfurion nodded, then reached out with his thoughts to the other druids. My friends…come to the enclave…
The other druids came but moments later. All gaped at what Fandral had wrought, but Malfurion could not give them time to digest its presence.
“It is all up to us,” Malfurion said to the others. “We must make the final stand against the Nightmare. This is what our calling has prepared us for. A taint seeks Azeroth; as those who tend the forests, plains, and other lands that are its gardens, encourage the bounty of life that is its fruit…we must end this infestation…”
The gathered druids went down on one knee before him and even when he gestured that they should rise, they remained in the respectful position.
“What would you have of us?” Broll, who seemed to be speaker for the rest, solemnly inquired.
“What I should not ask. I need you — and, yes, all those we can still summon to come together be they druids or not — to march upon the Nightmare itself through this, possibly the last portal on Azeroth…”
24
GATHERING THE HOST
Tyrande, Lucan, and Thura found themselves deposited in a murky valley. Around them, they heard the incessant shrieks and cries as the Nightmare’s victims both suffered and served at Xavius’s will.
The ground crawled with the dark vermin of the Nightmare.
“See what I’ve brought you…” Lethon said to the mist.
A huge portion of the mist melted into the putrefying figure of Emeriss. The other dragon grinned at the prisoners he displayed.
“So wholesome…so untouched…” she cooed. “Won’t it be fun twisting them?”
“You know what the master desires.”
Emeriss did not look pleased with being reprimanded. “Of course I do!”