Richard Knaak - The Well of Eternity

Tyrande! he silently called. He shut his eyes, trying to picture her, trying to come to her.

I have you …said a voice he could not identify.

The world turned upside down.

Mannoroth felt the loss. Mannoroth felt the emptiness even before it happened.

The huge, bestial commander paused in the rear of the horde, turning his ugly, tusked head in the direction of the tower.

The tower that was no longer there.

“Noooooooo!”he roared.

Rhonin felt it. He felt the sudden surge of power, the surge of strength. He suddenly imagined himself able to build worlds, take the stars from the heavens and rearrange them to his desire. He was invincible, omnipotent.

The spell sealing off the Well of Eternity had been destroyed.

Immediately he looked to Illidan, to see if the young night elf had sensed the same. Rhonin need not have feared, though, for Illidan clearly had experienced the same rush of strength as he had. In fact, not only did the Moon Guard all look strong and ready, but so did the rest of the defenders as well.

The Well and the night elves are one , the wizard realized. Even those who could not cast spells were still tied to it to some extent. Its loss had stripped them in ways that they could never realize. Now, though, Rhonin saw in every figure, from Lord Ravencrest down to the lowliest soldier, a renewed confidence and determination. Truly they now thought themselves unbeatable by any force.

Even the Burning Legion.

Horns blared. The night elves gave a collective roar well matching anything emitted prior by the demons. The front lines of the Legion faltered, not at all certain what this abrupt change meant.

“Have at them!” shouted Ravencrest.

The defenders surged forward. Demons suddenly found themselves harried as never before. Felbeasts were slaughtered before they could make their way back to the horde. Tusked warriors dropped one after another as each time the night elves’ blades sank true. The encroaching Legion was stopped dead in its tracks.

Illidan led the Moon Guard against the invaders, continuing to guide their efforts through his own spells. The land itself rippled beneath the Burning Legion’s feet, tossing demons about as if they were nothing. Several of the winged Doomguard burst into flames as they darted overhead, becoming instead fiery missiles that added further mayhem to their own ranks.

Rhonin did not stay out of the battle, either. With the memories of all those who had died this day and all those who would perish in the future war in mind, he struck again and again at the ones responsible. An Eredar warlock who foolishly sought to match him was enveloped by his own robes, which twisted tightly until they snapped the demon in twain. From the wizard then came a punishing series of blue lightning bolts that methodically hunted down other spellcasters among the Legion, leaving behind only slight piles of ash to mark the former foes.

For the first time, true pandemonium broke out among the fearsome warriors. This was not the battle expected, the bloodshed desired. There was nothing here now save their own deaths, a prospect even the demons found daunting.

Their lines buckled. The night elves pushed forward.

“We have them now!” shouted Lord Ravencrest. “Give them no quarter!”

The defenders rallied further around his cry. Despite the imposing size of the invaders, the night elves advanced undaunted.

And Rhonin and Illidan continued to pave the way to victory. The wizard looked up, spying several of the savage Infernals plummeting toward the defenders. As ever, the fiery demons were rolled up into balls, dropping like boulders to create the most disastrous results.

For once, Rhonin made some use of Illidan’s tactics. With the Well from which to draw, he created a huge golden barrier in the sky, one which the Infernals could not avoid. The barrier was not simply a wall, however, for Rhonin had another purpose in mind. He shaped it according to those desires, curving it and forcing those demons who crashed into it to bounce instead in the direction he chose.

The very midst of their own army.

Even the bolts he had cast down upon the demons earlier could not have done as much devastation as the fearsome behemoths did now. More than two dozen Infernals struck the Legion’s center at various points, decimating the ranks and creating huge, smoking craters. The bodies of the enemy flew everywhere, crashing down upon others and multiplying the damage tenfold.

From far to his side, the wizard heard triumphant laughter. Illidan clapped his hands in honor of the human’s successful effort, then pointed at the harried enemy.

A part of the Burning Legion’s left flank suddenly floundered, many immediately sinking to their knees. The solid earth below them had become as soup and the heavy, armored forms of the demons could do nothing but plunge beneath its surface like stones. A few struggled, but, in the end, any who had the misfortune of being where Illidan had cast vanished.

With a wave of his hand, the young night elf resolidified the earth, erasing all trace of his victims. He then turned back to Rhonin and, with a grand flourish, bowed to the wizard.

Rhonin kept his expression set, only nodding again. If nothing else, Illidan surely kept the demons at bay.

At last, under such brutal assault, the Burning Legion did the only thing it could do—retreat en masse.

There was no horn, no call. The demons simply began to back away. They kept a semblance of order, but clearly it was all their commanders could do to maintain that much. Even still, they did not move fast enough to suit the defenders, who took full advantage of the victory.

The Moon Guard in particular savored the turn of events. They hunted the felbeasts especially, turning some into gnarled bits of wood, others into rodents. Several simply burst into flames as they ran—their tails between their legs—for the questionable safety of the Legion ranks.

Here and there, pockets of resistance remained, but those were quickly whittled down by the eager soldiers. Fel Guard lay everywhere. Rhonin had no doubt that each night elf thought about the countless dead the Burning Legion had already left in its wake. There had to have been many friends and loved ones among Zin-Azshari’s victims.

However, one cause for which the night elves continued to fight concerned the wizard. Even now, Ravencrest shouted her name, using it to further rally the troops.

“For Azshara! For the queen! We ride to her rescue!”

Rhonin had heard Malfurion’s suggestion that the queen was likely as complicit in the slaughter as most believed her counselor and the Highborne were and he suspected that to be the truth. The wizard could only keep telling himself that the truth would come out if and when they reached the palace.

Back and back the Burning Legion went, edging into the very borders of the ruined capital. They died in droves, they died by weapon or wizardry, but they died . The battle raged unceasingly through the darkness, the ground buried under the corpses of the fiendish invaders.

Perhaps it would have gone on, perhaps they could have taken the fight into Zin-Azshari itself and even reached the palace, but as day forced its will upon night, the defenders at last flagged. They had given their all in an effort well worth praise, but even Lord Ravencrest saw that to go on would put the night elves at more risk than they could afford. His expression reluctant, he nonetheless signaled the horns to sound the halt.

As the horns called, Illidan’s expression grew cross. He tried to make the Moon Guard follow him forward, but while some seemed eager enough, all clearly had spent themselves of their physical energy.

Rhonin, too, was exhausted. True, he could still cast spells of great destruction, but his body was covered in sweat and he felt faintness in his head if he moved too quickly. His concentration slipped more and more…