The merciless and efficient strike caused the satyrs to falter somewhat as they tried to divine how best to get around Tyrande and the deadly blades.
But Malfurion did not want to leave her to face them by herself. “You can’t hold them all off!”
“With the others’ help, perhaps I can at least delay long enough!”
Before Malfurion could ask who she meant, Tyrande brought the glaive up in a salute and murmured something in the hidden tongue of the Sisterhood. At that moment, the satyrs regained their courage and charged.
The Mother Moon’s light shone down in front of Malfurion, bathing both Tyrande and the areas to each side.
As Malfurion stared, a line of glowing figures somewhat resembling priestesses in battle garb took up a stand with Tyrande. Indeed, each even bore some resemblance to her.
Tyrande had prayed to Elune for aid and it had come as she needed it, in the forms of guardians created from the moonlight. With glaives, bows, swords, lances, maces, staves, and other weapons, the gleaming line decimated the foremost satyrs. Yet more continued to pour forward.
Malfurion did not remain idle while Tyrande and those she summoned defended him. Aware that she was correct in her assumption that he had to focus on the true battle, Malfurion turned his attention on two things.
The first was to reinforce his original decision upon Varian and Hamuul. The Nightmare must be fought in the Dream! he pressed. The core of the Nightmare’s strength comes from the sleeping and from what it has thus far managed to tear from Ysera! Force it to draw its power there to defend itself!
To their credit, they acquiesced. Still feeling guilty that so many would likely perish despite this being the best hope, Malfurion then reached out to Broll.
Have you found Thura?
Broll Bearmantle’s response was immediate. Yes, Shan’do! But she’s not able to fight effectively here! Let’s return her to Azeroth, then —
No…you know what I need her to do.
As with Hamuul and King Varian, Broll agreed.
Malfurion looked to Tyrande again. She stood defiant against the odds, just as she had so often during the War of the Ancients. Face so very dark — the night elf version of being flushed — she threw the glaive again and again. The gleaming weapon severed limbs, cut deep into chests, and even removed the head of one satyr.
But the archdruid noted that the moonlight around her had grown slightly dimmer and as it did, so dimmed Elune’s guardians beside her. It was not merely physical foes that the high priestess battled; Xavius was feeding his gathered power into the satyrs, strengthening especially those that fought Tyrande. She was the nexus around which the guardians drew their substance. If she fell, they would quickly dissipate.
Malfurion turned to the second of his problems. He quickly sought out the mind of the male dragon.
Eranikus! Think this through!
No! I will not leave the Eye without her!
The night elf’s view shifted. Malfurion saw through Eranikus’s gaze as the Aspect’s consort descended. The dragon was nearly at his destination.
The Eye was not as the archdruid recalled it. Even as Eranikus approached, its appearance wavered. The structures became jagged, toothy things that looked ready to impale the dragon. The buildings began to change places with one another.
They can’t fool me! Eranikus said to him. Hide her in a thousand such places and they will fail! She and I are linked again and this time nothing will ever sever the bond! I will always find her!
Be wary! Malfurion called futilely.
Eranikus dove toward the least impressive of the structures. As he did, it suddenly began to grow.
You see? he said triumphantly. She is in the great building, though they tried their best to make it look other —
Malfurion, paying more attention to matters in the Eye beyond that of Ysera, noted a shift in the Nightmare.
Eranikus —
Lethon materialized above the fixated dragon, then dropped upon him.
Welcome back, brother Eranikus! he mocked as his talons dug into the other leviathan. The corrupted dragon sent entrails of dark green energy into Ysera’s consort.
Eranikus shrieked as his body pulsated madly. His scaled hide twisted and shifted as if some great worm bore through flesh and bone and sought to now burst to the surface.
Your greatest nightmare comes true… Lethon cooed. Welcome back to the fold…
Malfurion sought to maintain a link to Eranikus’s mind, but although he managed to do that, the link was so weak that he could not sense what, if anything, the dragon thought. Moreover, none of his attempts to make Eranikus understand him succeeded, either. The archdruid feared that Lethon spoke true; Malfurion was well aware of Eranikus’s dread concerning once more becoming one of the corrupted.
Indeed, the dragon moaned loudly as the foul energies of the Nightmare sank into him. Although still aloft, Eranikus curled as much as possible into a ball.
And then, with a raging roar, let loose his own power upon Lethon.
Caught overconfident, the corrupted behemoth hurtled back as the attack struck. With a painful roar of his own, Lethon went spiraling from the Eye of Ysera.
Again without hesitation, Eranikus returned his attention to where his queen was imprisoned. He sank all four sets of claws into the structure.
The prison shimmered. The green dragon was assailed by more of the Nightmare’s taint. Eranikus’s shape twisted, perverted, as the corruption sought to overwhelm him. Yet he steadfastly held on, pouring his own might into the edifice.
Already focused on so many directions, Malfurion could do little, but he gave Ysera’s consort what support he could. Between the two of them, the spread of the taint toward the male dragon halted.
The prison shook. The attack on Eranikus abruptly ceased. The leviathan let out a triumphant growl.
But then a powerful force ripped him from Ysera’s prison. Lethon, aglow with the Nightmare’s awful energies, swooped down to batter his adversary.
Malfurion tried to help Eranikus regain his momentum, but the dragon now refused his aid, shouting in the archdruid’s head, No! She’s nearly free! I’ll hold him off while you finish it!
The night elf could not argue. Freeing Ysera was far more important. She was the mistress of the Emerald Dream, bound to it and versed in its very essence. The Nightmare needed her to strengthen its connection to the Emerald Dream in order to manipulate its magic even more. Whatever the cost, Ysera had to be freed; the act would surely weaken the Nightmare’s hold and, thus, further the defenders’ chances. Indeed, Malfurion could now sense the Aspect herself testing her weakened cell. Eranikus was correct; there was far greater hope now of success.
Concentrating, the archdruid attempted to draw from both Azeroth and the stricken Emerald Dream as much as he could. He was surprised at how easy those forces, especially from the latter realm, came at his request.
Then Malfurion decided that it could not be by his doing alone; Ysera had to be assisting somehow.
As he struggled alongside the Aspect to free her, Malfurion felt Eranikus’s battle continue. The two dragons grappled, their power washing over one another. Neither at first seemed to have the upper hand, though the night elf feared that before long their surroundings would finally grant that to the corrupted beast.
He felt Ysera pushing harder from within. Yet her concern was not for herself, but rather her consort, Malfurion, and Lucan.