All looked as it should, but Malfurion could sense that the taint was as widespread up here as in the trunk. The archdruid approached the first branches with trepidation but necessary swiftness.
He passed the first boughs without any sign of threat. Indeed, deeper within, he even saw signs of fauna in the form of birds and squirrels. Was he wrong about the taint?
Higher and higher the storm crow rose. In one respect, Malfurion knew what he would find. Even before his disappearance, the discussions concerning the building of the new capital had been going on. Its location had not been decided then, but Malfurion had no doubt that he would find Darnassus atop the World Tree.
Which meant thousands of lives unaware that their very home had become something sinister.
Malfurion decided that he had no other choice but to plunge into the crown and enter Darnassus from underneath. It was the most direct path to where he sensed he would find the tauren…and possibly the secret of the World Tree’s foulness.
Despite the size of his storm crow form, Malfurion darted with ease through the huge crown. He eyed the World Tree with some sadness, not only due to the taint, but also because of memories of Nordrassil and what it had once been. If only they had waited!
Nordrassil could be restored…with time…
The foliage grew thicker and thicker, at last forcing Malfurion to slow. He could feel that he was nearly at his destination —
His path was suddenly a thick jumble of branches and leaves.
Malfurion veered.
They shifted, again barring his way.
The archdruid tried to avoid them, but it was too late. He collided.
The foliage enveloped him. It sought to constrict his wings, to bind his beak, and twist his body until his bones would break.
Malfurion felt the familiar and dread presence of the Nightmare Lord. It was not direct, but rather as if the evil force had left a part of itself here.
Gibbering laughter filled Malfurion’s mind. The leaves seemed to take on faces, shadowed faces that almost but not quite coalesced into awful creatures.
Transforming to his own shape only momentarily caught the smothering foliage off guard. The leaves immediately began shifting, becoming more and more hooved shadows eager to reclaim the night elf.
Regaining his breath, Malfurion concentrated. A powerful wind erupted in his vicinity. The huge branches were whipped back as if blades of grass, and the changing shadow creatures were blown away like the leaves from which they had arisen.
The night elf scrambled upward, then changed again. As the storm raged, he flew with all his might. More leaves followed up in his wake, seeking to catch him, but they were too slow.
Malfurion entered Darnassus.
There were two things that he instantly noted. One was the city itself. It spread proudly over the huge branches. His brethren and those others who had helped shape the new night elf capital had truly created a masterpiece.
But the second thing that Malfurion noted was that the city appeared utterly ignorant of all that was not only affecting Teldrassil, but the rest of Azeroth. He saw movement in buildings and even heard music from one direction.
How could they not know? How could they remain so ignorant?
The answer was simple. Someone wanted them that way.
Still, it was odd that the Sentinels were not at least informed to a point. Malfurion knew Shandris Feathermoon very well; in some remote fashion, he was almost like a second father to her. She would not have left the city quite this unsuspecting.
But he had no time to find out what the Sentinels did or did not know; Hamuul’s desperate contact had come from another direction.
Malfurion made his way toward that direction, avoiding all contact with other night elves, even druids. For their own safety, he did not want anyone knowing of his presence. For whatever reason, the Nightmare Lord had no desire to attack Darnassus just yet. It was a precarious situation and Malfurion did not like his choices, but so it would have to be.
He knew even before he reached it that he had arrived at the new Cenarion Enclave. This place of meditation and gathering in the proposed city had been long discussed. Malfurion himself had suggested many of the details that he now saw standing in bloom before him. But his heart was sickened when he sensed that the taint was strong here as well.
Malfurion alighted, his form shifting in the process. The area was silent, much too silent for a place where birds and other fauna should be in evidence day or night.
There was little choice but to avoid the trees lining the enclave.
The archdruid knew that they were like the branches against which he had fought.
A suspicion that had long been growing in him stirred. The attack had all but verified it, although Malfurion still wanted to deny the possibility —
The thought was interrupted by a brief contact by Hamuul. It was stark in its need for haste. Malfurion tried to reach the other archdruid, but to no avail.
But he knew from where Hamuul had contacted him. Malfurion headed toward the structure that was center to the enclave’s design.
It was also where he who had come to lead the druids since Malfurion’s absence had chosen to make his new sanctum.
Malfurion neared the building — and stopped short in horror.
There were three figures bound in the vines that covered the sanctum. Their limbs were stretched tight and pulled to the side as much as possible. One was Hamuul Runetotem. The second was Naralex. The third was none other than Shandris Feathermoon.
They all appeared to be unconscious…or worse.
Which meant that Malfurion had been tricked into coming here.
“So the legendary shan’do returns to grace us with his undeserved glory,” the voice of Fandral Staghelm declared from all around Malfurion. “Always the only one who can save the world, because he deems himself the only one. I sensed you coming long ago and prepared a proper welcome…”
Malfurion did not turn to seek Fandral, aware that this was what the other desired. Instead, he spoke toward the building. “What’s happening here, Fandral? Why are you doing this?”
“Is it not obvious?” the voice replied. “These three are a danger to our people! To all Azeroth!”
“These three?” Malfurion subtly sought Fandral’s true location.
In his mind, the Nightmare Lord had clearly played tricks on the other archdruid’s mind. If Malfurion could confront Fandral, then he might be able to snap his brother druid out of the spell. “Shandris is a staunch defender of our race and Hamuul is an honest, worthy member of our calling as is Naralex—”
“Lies, lies, lies!” The words reverberated through Malfurion’s head. “They seek to bring down everything! They seek to tear us apart! He has told me so!”
“Who, Fandral? Who?”
A section of the vines not being used to hold the pair in place suddenly curled around. They formed a thicker and thicker mass as tall as Malfurion.
The vines suddenly gave way.
Fandral Staghelm stared at his former shan’do. “You would want to know that, would you not? It is clear to me that you are a traitor, too!” His expression was one of honest grief — tinged with madness. “But you are too dangerous! The female, Naralex, and the beast — they’re misguided. But now they sleep and dream. They will awaken refreshed, as everyone else will!”
Malfurion took a step toward Fandral. “No one will wake! The Nightmare extends beyond the Emerald Dream now! Everywhere save here is under siege by its evil and that evil fills this World Tree!”
“You still dismiss the need for my Teldrassil!” the other archdruid snarled, a sudden ferocity overcoming him. “But I have done so much with it! It has helped reshape not only our race, but all of Azeroth as well!”
“Teldrassil is tainted, Fandral! The Nightmare Lord infests it!