William King - Illidan

Maiev had a tremendous view of the rooftops of the city and the great tower that housed the Terrace of Light. It was so tall, it threatened to touch the sky. Inside it, she felt the power of the naaru. It galled her that they had not agreed to help. With their aid, she would have had a much better chance of bringing Illidan to justice.

Sarius soared along beside the elevator, wearing the form of a storm crow. Maiev recognized him by his distinctive plumage. He was there to watch and observe. She did not expect these Aldor to prove treacherous, but she never ruled out the possibility with anyone. Traitors could be found in the most surprising places.

Anyndra said, “They say that sometimes the Broken ride this elevator just so they can throw themselves off at the top. You would think the sentries would prevent that.”

“Maybe they think they are performing an act of mercy,” said Maiev.

She was wondering whether she should have brought more guards. They would be outnumbered atop Aldor Rise, but at least their presence would have spoken of Maiev’s importance. In the end, she had decided that it would be better to appear as a petitioner.

The platform glided to a stop. She took one last glance down at the city and thought about those sad Broken making the long drop to the stones below.

Above them, two stone islets hovered in the sky. They had been curved after the fashion of draenei architecture, and lights glowed in their sides to leave the viewer in no doubt as to their magical provenance. It was clear that visitors were meant to be overawed by this display of magic.

Great crystals studded the sides of the buildings atop the rise. At night their glow could be seen in the sky above the city, a reminder to all of the purity of the Aldor and the Light they served. Maiev sniffed at the thought.

Aldor guards, clad in heavy armor and wearing the purple tabard of their faction, greeted her. They were not hostile, but they made it very clear that she was under observation. She stated her business, and they led her to the so-called Shrine of Unending Light.

A tall, beautiful female draenei, garbed in robes of blue and white moved to greet her. Maiev inclined her head to accept her benediction.

“Blessings of the Light upon you, Warden Shadowsong,” said the draenei. “I am Ishanah, high priestess of the Aldor. I have been told that you would have words with me.”

Maiev detected a subtle note of hostility in the high priestess’s tone. “I have come seeking the aid of those who follow the Light.”

“I have been told that a number of those already follow you.”

“I meant the Aldor.”

“You seek to slay the one called the Betrayer?”

“Or imprison him once more.”

“Why?”

Maiev’s jaw fell open. “Because he is evil.”

“We do not have such strength that we can afford to throw it away assaulting the Black Temple. It is all we can do to hold our ground. And we serve other functions.”

Maiev let her eyes dwell on Ishanah’s rich robes, then let them slide to their beautiful surroundings. “I can see that.”

“We do not all have to enter the darkness to fight against it.”

“Sometimes, defeating evil means getting your hands dirty.”

“And sometimes, getting your hands dirty turns you to evil.” Ishanah’s smile seemed mocking. “In order to work with the Light, you must be pure of heart.”

“And you think I am not?” Maiev’s anger simmered in her voice.

“I think you do what you believe is right.”

Maiev frowned at that hairsplitting distinction. “What I do is right.”

“No doubt. No doubt.”

“You will not aid me?”

“At this moment, I cannot.”

“Cannot or will not?”

“There are other struggles than your own, Warden Shadowsong. Some of them are more important.”

“Nothing is more important than the overthrow of Illidan.”

“Perhaps to you. We Aldor have different priorities and limited resources. We need time to gather our strength.”

Frustration filled the warden. Why was it so difficult to get the people of Outland to see the importance of her mission? She felt a tingling against her breast. It was from the stone Akama had given her. This was not the usual time they had set for their meetings. Something urgent must have come up. Perhaps it was just as well. She did not want to continue this fruitless circular argument with Ishanah anyway.

“I thank you for your time,” Maiev said, “and ask your permission to depart.”

Without waiting for it, she turned and strode back to the elevator, followed by Anyndra.

She needed a quiet place to communicate with Akama. She hoped that he would prove less useless than the Aldor.

The streets of Shattrath’s lower terrace seemed more crowded every day. More and more refugees flooded into the city, fleeing from Illidan’s wars of conquest and the aftermath of his losing battles with the Legion. They seemed determined to place themselves under the protection of the Sha’tar.

Maiev glanced over her shoulder. A blood elf hurried through the street behind her, face cowled, a scarf wound over her lower jaw. There was something in her manner that was familiar. Perhaps she was spying on Maiev. It did not matter. Sarius was out there in the crowd, watching her back. Perhaps sometime, she would order him to capture one of those who dogged her steps. At the moment, she had other matters to consider.

She stepped into the courtyard of the Refuge of the Broken. The usual wretches looked up from their sour watered wine, or stared at the ceiling in a numbed stupor. The air stank of the rough tobacco they smoked. It reeked of their unwashed bodies. She made her way to the chamber in which she had previously met with Akama, and she was unsurprised to find him there. Two of the Ashtongue guards who had watched over him before minded the door and let her pass without comment.

The Broken rose and bowed to her in greeting. At least he showed her some respect. Over the last few years, they had reached an understanding of sorts. She inclined her head regally in acknowledgment.

“What news?” Maiev asked. She hoped it was better than their last meeting, which had concerned only some minor victory in Illidan’s war against the Legion.

“Great news,” Akama said. The excitement in his voice communicated itself to her. “Prince Kael’thas is missing, along with some of his army. It is likely that he has abandoned the Betrayer.”

Maiev could not keep the smile of triumph from her face. “If that is true, then Illidan has lost one of the great props to his power.” She let the words hang in the air. In the past, Akama had refused to commit his people because Illidan was supported by Kael’thas and Lady Vashj.

Akama’s smile matched her own only for a moment. “Illidan may have found a new source of power.”

A chill of foreboding passed through Maiev. Perhaps the Betrayer had a trick to play yet. It would not be the first time. “What is it?”

“I am not certain, which is why I wanted to talk to you. They are recruited entirely from your people…”

“My people?”

“Elves. Desperate, ruthless elves, hardened fighters all, and all with a grudge against the Burning Legion, as far as I can tell. He takes them and he kills them.”

“What?”

“He infuses them with fel magic. Most of them die during the process, and those who live are changed, and not for the better.”

“What do you mean?”

“Their bodies are saturated with evil power, and there is something in them that reeks of the demonic.”

Horror twisted Maiev’s face. “He is transforming elves into demons.”

“Unless I miss my guess, he is remaking them in his own image. He works rituals upon them. He supervises as they receive tattoos like his. He teaches them magic, or at least so I gather from the rumors picked up by my agents. All of this takes place in sealed courtyards far from the everyday business of the temple.”