Into the Light

05 | AN ULTIMATUM

Malfurion scoffed. "The Chamber of the Eye? Do you even realise what an impossible task that is at this point in time? The Pillars must be collected and assembled before anyone can breach the walls of Sargeras's Tomb; the Alliance and the Horde are at each other's throats over the death of Varian and the Emerald Dream is crumbling." Malfurion flung his arm out in the direction of the group of wood folk surrounding the fallen Guardian. "Look at Cenarius, a demi-god. If he cannot withstand the Legion, what hope do we have? We have lost. Sooner or later, Azeroth will fall."

Tyrande gaped at her consort. "Who are you? You are not Malfurion. He would never speak like this."

Malfurion grabbed her shoulders, his grip hurting her. "What do you want from me? My blessing for you to run after my brother, a demon, and protect him with the Light of the Goddess? Where were you when I needed you? Tyrande, you are breaking my heart. It is too much. No matter what good you believe you are doing, if you do this thing, I will no longer be able to remain with you."

Anger poured into Tyrande. How dare he. She shrugged his hands off her shoulders. "So it comes to this, an ultimatum? You or Azeroth? Then I choose Azeroth, it is my home, and I will fight for it to my last breath."

He backed away, shaking his head. "I should not have forced you to choose. Of course you would choose Azeroth. As I would have, not so long ago," he sighed, and sank down onto a boulder. He looked up, his anger gone. "I am just so tired. It feels like I have spent my entire life fighting. I want it to stop. I saw too many things in the Nightmare. I saw the Legion win, led by a new and unstoppable dreadlord. I have reconciled myself to it, and have chosen the path of living in peace until we are vanquished."

Tyrande sank down beside Malfurion, she touched his thigh, tentative. "The Nightmare is a place of fear and lies. You saw one possible end, but we can also prevail. My love, Azeroth needs you. I need you. Illidan needs you. We can still stop the Legion."

Malfurion brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. Tyrande shivered. How long had it been since they had been intimate? Not since his first defeat of Xavius, during Azeroth's short time of peace. She thought of their wedding night. It had been magical. She smiled, soft, at the memory.

Malfurion brushed her cheek, tender. "Stay out of the Nether. Illidan has ever been The Betrayer, you cannot trust him. He will betray you, leaving you trapped forever in the Nether. I beg you, do not go. If not for my sake, for your own."

Tyrande caught him looking at her, his expression flickering between hope and fear. She tried again." The dreadlord you saw was Illidan. Gul'dan is bringing to life a new avatar for Sargeras, using Illidan's body. Your own brother has been chosen by Sargeras to destroy our home. No matter what Illidan is guilty of, he does not deserve this. I watched him endure unimaginable suffering to resist Gul'dan. He suffers for us, to protect us from himself. He will fight to his last, but he cannot do it alone."

Malfurion said nothing. His gaze lingered on a pair of golden wisps hovering over a lily pad, circling each other, caught in a dance of their own making.

He drew a deep breath, and let it out, slow. "Perhaps you are right in what you are doing. Ever since the Nightmare, my path--once so easy to see--is no longer clear. Everything is clouded, difficult. And this accursed fatigue, it never ends. Perhaps it is why I cannot heal Cenarius. Let me come and dine with you tonight. Since it seems you cannot be convinced otherwise, I would rather not waste what little time we have left together."

Tyrande smiled. "Only if you come to me as you were on our wedding, before your transformation into an Archdruid."

He blurred for a heartbeat, transforming into a night elf. Much better. This was her Malfurion. His other form, an enhanced hybrid being with stormcrow wings, stag antlers, bear paws, and the padded feet of a cat was the Lord of the Night Elves, and had no place in her sleeping room.

He stood, and lowered his hand to hers. "You know this is only an illusion, a memory. No one else can see me like this, only you. I lost the ability to shapeshift long ago. Thrall was kind to teach me how to alter perceptions."

Tyrande rose up, and pressed her lips to his. "Have you forgotten? I asked him to teach you."

Malfurion caught her in his arms, and returned her kiss. "It feels so good to hold you. When I was trapped in the Nightmare, it was the thought of you I clung to. You kept me from madness."

Tyrande lay her head against his shoulder, savouring his warmth. "I never stopped thinking about you, Malfurion. Ever."

The wood folk cried out, distressed, interrupting them. Malfurion turned away, abrupt, letting Tyrande go. "Cenarius! I must go to him. I will see you tonight. No matter what I will be there. I swear it."

He left her, and strode back to the others, the illusion fading, the Lord of the Elves once more taking her consort's place.

Tyrande waited for him to look back, but he did not, he made his way into the centre of the group, his voice rising above the others, filled with desperation as he cast one healing spell after another. Resigned, Tyrande turned back to the waiting Keepers, and followed them back into the tunnel.

She tried to be grateful for the brief reprieve they had shared, but somehow she could not. Already she felt the taint of bitterness overshadowing her thoughts; despite his promise, she knew Malfurion wouldn't come to her tonight. Just like it had always been, someone else needed him more.