But the ax was even more powerful than the orcs knew, and no one understood that better than Malfurion. His own shan’do had imbued it with forces bound to the world, forces that made it as much of Azeroth as the very seas and land, the very air.
And it was with that ax that Malfurion hoped to vanquish the Nightmare and free himself.
Thura approached him. She did not question what she saw; the druid had influenced her dreams far too long. Thura took for granted whatever he desired. That filled him with even more regret; he had abused her mind, no matter what the reason.
“Night elf,” she growled low. “You threaten my people, my world!
And for me, there is the blood of my kin staining your dishonorable hands! I have come to put an end to your evil!”
Strike! he silently commanded her. Strike! Malfurion even suggested where she aim. It was vital that she hit him just so.
Eyeing what to her was the archdruid’s stomach and what was in truth the center of the tree trunk, Thura added, “I give you one chance! I will let you make amends—”
The archdruid was taken aback. Despite what she surely thought of him, she was still willing to give him a chance to save his life!
Strike! he repeated again, radiating an image of contempt.
Thura glared at him.
“That’s your answer,” the orc snarled. She pulled back with the ax. “I gave you a chance for life…now I give you the certainty of death—”
A great silver sphere surrounded the orc.
No! No! No! the archdruid pleaded. Not now! You do not know what you are doing!
But his beloved Tyrande did not hear him even though Malfurion tried with all his will to make her. The lithe high priestess strode toward the orc, who completed her swing — or attempted to do so.
If not for Elune’s light, the ax would have done its work well. As it was, although the ax did not reach the tree, the magic of the weapon weakened the sphere.
Letting out a grunt of surprise at the ax’s power, Tyrande immediately kicked at Thura. Her foot struck the orc in the side as Thura sought to spin toward her. The orc stumbled back.
The high priestess pursued her attack, kicking twice more. The first landed hard on her opponent’s chest, but the second the halfgasping warrior stopped with her forearm.
Thura then thrust with the ax, forcing Tyrande back. In response, the night elf summoned forth Elune’s light, but before she could cast whatever spell she had in mind, Thura made a slash with Brox’s weapon. Tyrande was forced to retreat.
All of this went on before an increasingly apprehensive Malfurion. The longer the pair fought, the less the chance that any of them would survive. He tried to steer his thoughts toward the pair but could not reach either.
How had Tyrande even located him at just this moment?
Malfurion had been very well aware just how far away she had been. He had also done his best to secretly divert her, yet that had failed —
Another figure entered the fray, an unexpected one. He was a ragged-looking human who at first seemed of interest only due to the impossibility of his being here. However, Malfurion knew exactly who it was and now had his explanation as to how Tyrande had reached here at this critical juncture.
In their one secretive contact, Ysera had promised that her servants would lead to Thura the means by which the orc, as part of Malfurion’s plan, could reach this realm without the Nightmare Lord knowing. Malfurion had assumed it to be a druid or one of Ysera’s very dragon-flight. But instead, she had somehow found a very unique human.
The ragged figure had crept up behind Thura. It was doubtful that he could have done so against a seasoned warrior if not for the current circumstances.
To Malfurion’s further surprise, the man’s sole attack appeared to be to grab Thura around the waist. What purpose that served became clear a moment later as both she and her assailant began to fade away.
And with her would go the ax…and Malfurion’s last hope.
At the last moment, though, Thura twisted away from him. She fell to her knees.
As she did, Malfurion felt the Nightmare Lord’s attention at last turn to what was happening around his precious captive.
It was too late, then, for the archdruid, but he tried his best to give warning to Tyrande and the others. His branches shook and the sharp leaves shivered as he threw all his will into alerting them of the danger.
Far too late…mocked the Nightmare Lord. Far too late…
Shadows draped over Malfurion, skeletal shadows of the unseen tree’s reaching limbs.
But it was not for the archdruid that those limbs stretched.
Instead, they aimed for the others.
Malfurion again sought to warn them, but only the human appeared to notice him. The man eyed Malfurion’s macabre form and then gaped. He started to say something to the two combatants, raising the archdruid’s hopes…
A tremendous emerald force swept over the area.
The shadow tree recoiled but held its position. However, the foremost regions of mist burned away and the horror that Malfurion alone knew still awaited within it likewise vanished, seeking the safety of those areas still covered by the foulness.
Tyrande and Thura paused in their battle to follow with their gazes the human’s outthrust finger. And though Malfurion could not quite see the object of their interest, with his other senses he perhaps understood the enormity of it even better than they did.
The sky was filled with dragons, Ysera’s dragons. All those that remained uncorrupted had come at this desperate point to attack the Nightmare and its sinister master.
More to the point, they had come to rescue him.
This was not how Malfurion had wanted it. The dragons risked themselves. Yet he could not help but take heart in how the Nightmare melted away before them. What had started out as a distraction in order for the archdruid’s plan to succeed had now become part of the actual rescue. The Great Aspect had clearly understood that she could no longer trust for the orc to act as intended. Tyrande’s intervention inadvertently threatened catastrophe.
The mists retreated as if burned. Wherever Ysera’s servants stretched forth their power, the sinister tendrils of fog pulled back and the Dream was restored. The carrion bugs melted under the great emerald glow of the dragons’ power, fading to nothing. The grasses and trees were restored.
And at that moment Thura used the battle to fulfill her quest. She abandoned a distracted Tyrande and shoved past the desperate grab by the human.
Malfurion urged her on. He watched as she raised the ax.
Tyrande saw her. The high priestess glowed in preparation of stopping the orc.
The shadow tree moved. Malfurion realized that Tyrande still did not believe that she could be manipulated. With nothing to lose, Malfurion began to maneuver another root that he had been working with since extending the other beyond his prison. That one had originally been set to aid Thura, not Tyrande. This one would now have to distract the other night elf, if only for a critical second.
But someone else suddenly came to Malfurion’s aid. Even transformed, his identity was known to the trapped archdruid. Broll Bearmantle, racing along in his giant cat form, snarled for Tyrande’s attention. That he did so meant that he knew what was intended, not a surprise to Malfurion as he had obviously arrived with the coming of the green dragons.
His appearance did as intended. Startled, Tyrande lost her chance.
Thura swung. The shadow tree that was the Nightmare Lord reacted too slowly.
The ax cut just as Malfurion hoped. Pain coursed through him, but after the continual agonies he had suffered at the whim of his captor, it was pain easily smothered. What was important was that in cutting into the tree, the ax — forged by Cenarius and with the life force of Azeroth fueling it — also severed the spells that had caught Malfurion by surprise and trapped him so.