Keith DeCandido: Cycle of Hatred

The steward brought a pile of assorted meats, cooked to a fine brown. Aegwynn only recognized some of them, but she assumed the livestock on Kalimdor was different enough to account for that. It had been years since she ate meat, and, unlike the smell of the colonel's drink, the smell of the meat was almost intoxicating. As a mage, it was her constant companion—the exhaustive requirements of casting spells required regular infusions of protein—but since her self—imposed exile to Kalimdor she hadn't the wherewithal to hunt her own meat, nor the physical need to consume it, so she had become a vegetarian.

"Mind if I have a bite?" To Aegwynn's surprise, she asked the question shyly—another emotion she didn't think herself still capable of.

Pushing the plate to the center of the table they sat at, Lorena said, "Be my guest."

As Aegwynn hungrily chewed a piece of what looked like boar sausage, Lorena asked, "I have to ask, Magna—what's it like?"

"It's Aegwynn," she said while chewing her sausage. "I stopped being the Guardian when I passed on the power to my son. And I'm certainly unable to fulfill the responsibilities of the title now." She swallowed. "What's what like?"

"Living for so long. I'm a soldier, born and bred, and I've known from the beginning that I probably won't live to see my fortieth year. You've reached your fortieth decade—twice over. I just can't imagine that."

Aegwynn let out a long breath—which now smelled of boar sausage, an odor that was still more pleasant than the grog named after the same animal. "There really wasn't much time to reflect on things. Guardian is a full—time job, sadly. Demonic threats have been a constant since before I was born. The attacks became more overt in recent times, which probably made things easier. But when I wasn't stopping demons I was covering up evidence of their perfidy. Most people didn't know about it—or about me—and the council preferred to keep it that way." She shook her head. "It's odd—I defied them in so many ways, but that particular credo I kept to. I wonder if that was a mistake. Yes, people probably felt safer not knowing the truth, and more people died in the recent wars—but the demons have also been more roundly defeated. Your Lady Proudmoore and her orc friend did more damage to the entirety of demonkind than has been done in thousands of years."

"We're contentious beings, mortals." Lorena smirked. "Give us a foe to fight, and we'll go after it with our dying breath. And beyond, if needs be."

"Indeed. Colonel—may I have another piece?"

Lorena laughed and said, "Help yourself."

Taking another piece of meat—this time one she didn't recognize—Aegwynn wondered what would happen after this was over. She found the prospect of returning to her little hut in the Bladescar Highlands to be less enthralling than she would have thought. Jaina had been correct—humans and orcs had built a life here, and it was because of Medivh. Which meant, ultimately, it was because of her. Perhaps it would be best if she reaped the fruits of her labors…

Before she could ponder further, Jaina entered the dining hall. "I've found them. We must move quickly."

The young mage looked ragged. Aegwynn stood up. "Are you well?"

"A little tired. I'll be fine," Jaina said dismissively.

Aegwynn pointed at the plate of meat. "Eat something—you'll be of no use to anyone if you collapse, and I know better than anyone what happens to spells that aren't cast with full concentration."

Jaina opened her mouth, then closed it. "You're right, of course, Magna."

Lorena leaned over to Jaina. "She doesn't like to be called that."

At that, Aegwynn barked a laugh. She was really starting to like this colonel.

After Jaina wolfed down some of Lorena's meat—Aegwynn was amused to realize that Lorena had gotten the smallest share of her own meal—the lady said, "The Burning Blade is operating out of a cavern atop Dreadmist Peak."

Lorena winced. "Oh, great."

Looking at Lorena, Aegwynn asked, "What's the problem?"

"Dreadmist Peak is aptly named. The upper regions of the mountain are choked with this orange mist."

Dismissively, Jaina said, "It's residuum from an ancient demonic curse on the place. That's probably why Zmodlor chose it—that, and its location, since it's about equidistant from both Orgrimmar and Theramore. In any case, my magicks will protect all three of us from the effects of the mist."

"Good," Lorena said emphatically.

"Also, Duree was able to find this." Jaina pulled a familiar—looking de—sealed scroll from inside her cloak and handed it to Aegwynn.

She took it, noted that the broken seal was that of the Tirisfalen, then opened it and laughed. The scroll's lettering was in her own handwriting.

Handing it back to Jaina, Aegwynn said, "That's my refinement of the banish—demon spell. I wrote that three hundred years ago, after Erthalif died and I got access to his redoubt." She shuddered at the memory of the old elf's library, which would have had to be several orders of magnitude neater before it could be considered merely a mess. It took her and Erthalif's staff ten weeks just to organize the scrolls, scrub away the desiccated food and drink, and chase off the vermin. When she found the notes taken by the legendary elf wizard Kithros on the moving of objects from one realm to another, Aegwynn had been able to incorporate them into a more efficient spell for banishing demons. "I daresay if I'd had this eight hundred years ago, we wouldn't be dealing with Zmodlor today."

Jaina put the scroll back in her cloak. "Actually, no. I checked up, and it turns out that you were completely successful in banishing Zmodlor the first time. But when the Burning Legion attacked, they recruited many demons, including ones that had been banished by the Tirisfalen. When the war ended, several stragglers managed to stay in this world even when the legion was driven back."

"And Zmodlor was one of them?" Aegwynn asked.

"Yes." Jaina nodded.

Unsheathing her sword—and sounding to Aegwynn remarkably gung—ho for someone who was so appalled by the notion of going to this Dreadmist place—Lorena said, "Milady, if I may ask—what are we waiting for?"

"This warning," Jaina replied. "I was unable to scry too closely, for fear of being detected, so I'm not sure what kind of protection Zmodlor and his warlocks will have. We must be ready for anything." She turned to face Aegwynn. "Magna—Aegwynn—you need not accompany us. It may be dangerous."

Aegwynn snorted. This was a hell of a time for her to say that, and a bit of a reversal from her earlier lecture on her responsibilities as Guardian. Then again, at the time they had thought that she had failed in her banishment of Zmodlor, and now they knew that was not the case. Yet, she still felt some measure of responsibility. "I was facing dangers far worse than that little twerp of a demon when your great—great—grandparents were infants. We're wasting time."

Jaina smiled. "Then let's go."

Corporal Rych had no idea who it was who started the fighting.

One moment, he was standing there in the skirmish line in front of Northwatch Keep's wall, Private Hoban on his left, Private Allyn on his right. They stood about twenty paces behind Major Davin. The major himself was amazing, just standing up to that orc like the war hero he was, not scared or nothing. Did them all proud, the major did.

The next moment, the skirmish line was shattered, and orcs, trolls, and humans were getting into it. All around him, he heard the clang of metal on metal, and the shouts of both sides imploring their fellows to kill their foes.

Not that Rych minded all that much. The orcs had their nerve, they did. Wasn't enough they had to pull their stunts in trade at Ratchet, leading to a good man like Captain Joq getting pinched by the bruisers, now they had to come and try to kick them out of their rightful place in Northwatch.