To Erin's great surprise, Redrumei was returned safely within the cradle of Maldanormu's talons and Bellendore arrived soon after.
Maldanormu aided Redrumei in explaining to Bellendore what they needed, and Bellendore eagerly complied.
"Why, of course!" he exclaimed, striding in the direction of his tent, "Come, come. We will get to work immediately."
Everyone followed at a brisk pace, and as they reached the warlock's tent he had them wait outside.
"He's awfully eager," muttered Redrumei, to which Erin replied, "Ya know, maybe you should give him a bit more benefit of the doubt."
Redrumei scoffed, "Yeah, sure."
Erin sighed hopelessly, and soon Bellendore poked his head out, carrying a sack of supplies with him.
"Come," he said, striding away in the direction of a tall office building, "We have no time to waste."
They all followed him, each somewhat aggravated at his erratic movements. They approached the entrance to the office building and were greeted by two guards outside, "How can we help you?"
Bellendore fumbled with the back and blurted, "We need the top!"
The guard glanced at his partner, then back at the warlock, "Pardon?"
"We're trying..." still fumbling, "To get to the top. The roof!"
The guard nodded, "Of course. Go right on in. Elevator to your left."
They did so and all entered the elevator. It was cramped.
They finally reached the top and spilled out from the tiny room.
"Right," announced the old man, "I'll need everyone to follow my instructions to a tee. Can you all do that?"
They nodded, Redrumei grumbling slightly.
"Great."
He dropped the bag, which landed with a thump and turned to his party, "I'll need you, Redrumei and Erin, to watch the doors. Make sure nobody comes through them and if they do, politely ask them to leave. If they don't leave, just make sure they don't get to me. Maldanormu, I'll need that amulet of yours."
The warlock smiled innocently and reached out a gnarled hand. Maldanormu did not budge, "What are your intentions with it?"
"Correct me if I'm wrong, which I rarely am, but I do believe the amulets you share with Redrumei and Kaldrun contain some of each of your power. It will be much easier if you let me use your amulet, I can connect with him much more easily."
"Use Redrumei's amulet."
Bellendore's expression faltered slightly, "Very well."
He turned his gaze to Redrumei, who fished out her necklace reluctantly and handed it to Bellendore, "Return it."
"Of course," Bellendore bowed and backed toward the center of the platform upon which they stood, and where the bag of materials was sitting.
He stroked the amulet with his thumb in one hand, his other reaching into the bag and pulling out a large jar of grey-green powder, which he placed on the ground. He then fished through some more and pulled out a thin piece of tattered, charred purple leather. He put the leather next to the amulet, causing the green gem to shimmer gently.
He then put the amulet around his neck and crouched. He opened the jar and took a handful of the gray powder. He sprinkled it on the piece of leather, and it immediately ignited into a bright green flame, which was absorbed into the leather, revitalizing it. It seemed to plump up, and the fire licking its surface slowly died and sunk into it. It pulsed once.
⇋
It was like the reverse of how they describe death.
It was a tunnel of light, all colors of light, zipping around him, with a dark abyss at the end.
He didn't know for sure what would happen when he reached the end, but he knew it was nothing good, and that he couldn't stop it.
His will was strong, but not stronger than the fundamental laws of magic, laws which were all the more viciously enforced in the primitive energies that whipped around the newly imbued planet.
As his soul was whipped around the magical maelstrom that surrounded the world, he noticed that the whipping was slowing down. He was stabilizing.
Finally, he was gaining control of himself again. He looked around, trying to find a vessel to carry him out of this twisting storm of magic.
He imagined this is what it must have been like to be in the Twisting Nether during the formation of the universe. Extremely dangerous.
He directed his gaze to a particular blue blurb of energy that seemed to have lost its way. He approached it slowly, and upon examination found that it was searching for... him?
⇋
"No..." Bellendore opened his eyes, which shimmered with white light, "We have a problem. Erin, if you would, please find Raynor."
Erin's brows furrowed, "Why? What's going on?"
"Do it!" he snapped, "And hurry!"
Erin sighed, but nonetheless started toward the door. But then she stopped.
What if...
She raised her wrist to her mouth and concentrated, and then a speaker materialized on her wrist. She reached out and released a fist-sized clump of nanoparticles, which buzzed in the air like a swarm of flies. She directed them over the roof and closed her eyes, focusing hard.
The image of the pavement barreling toward her was encouraging, because it meant that her plan had worked. She was seeing what the nano particles were seeing. She searched the perimeter of the command center, flew into his tent, and found nothing. She then directed her swarm higher, and began flying toward the front line. She arrived alarmingly soon, in only a couple minutes. She could have only flown a couple miles. The Old Gods' armies were gaining ground.
Sure enough, Raynor was there, Iron and Justice in each hand, blowing away N'raqi and Black Terrans and caving in their chests and skulls.
She flew down, and then formed the swarm into a walkie-talkie, which fell on his foot. He picked it up and retreated briefly to inspect it, just barely dodging a blow from a N'raqi's huge greatsword.
He clicked the button and said, "Hello?"
"Oh thank god," blurted Erin, "It worked. Listen, there's no time to explain, but Bellendore needs you, now. And it would be best if you brought Joanne."
Raynor sputtered, "Well, pff, I... You can't hardly expect me to just up and leave! I'm in the middle of a battle!"
Bellendore shouted from his crouched position, where he was drawing a huge spell circle around himself, "Let me talk to him!"
Erin ran over and held the receiver to his face.
"Do what you will with this information, commander," shouted Bellendore over the din of the battle pouring through the speaker, "But I'm quite sure there is a spy in our midst! We can't--"
Bellendore was silenced by a jagged dagger flying through the air and burying itself into his spine.
He screamed and spun around before collapsing. Maldanormu ran to his side and knelt, trying to stem the flow of blood.
The door that Erin was supposed to be guarding was open, and leaning out was masked assassin, dressed in all black robes, with two savage black swords on each hip. He was reaching for another dagger, several of which were stored in a belt on his chest, and two shining purple eyes peeked from behind his mask, which covered his face entirely.
Erin thought he looked like Noob Saibot from the Mortal Kombat series, but less robot-y and more ninja-y.
Redrumei dashed toward him, and halfway to him she blinked forward and slammed into him. Both were sent sprawling to the ground, and the knife went spiraling across the concrete.
Redrumei leaped up and straddled the assassin, who was on his stomach. She grabbed each hand and pulled them behind his back, like she was going to handcuff him. He struggled wildly, and she was barely holding him down.
She was about to call out for Erin, but the latter was already there. Erin reached across her torso and pulled out the sword that she had stolen from the guard in the garrison. She leaned down and went to remove his mask, but the assassin just struggled harder. Erin grasped the cloth and the assassin's throes of resistance only aided her in removing it.
His face was definitely familiar.
It was pale, like Atarax's or Sentaerai's, and the rest of his features matched that of the Void-touched.
He spat at Erin and snarled, eyeing her sword, "A stolen blade that you do not deserve to wield, heathen."
Erin kicked him in the ribs, "Who sent you?"
He grunted and grinned, "Who do you think?" Laughing he said, "The president of the United States."
Erin glanced at Redrumei and they locked eyes briefly, each with a grim, exasperated look engraved upon their face.
Erin raised the speaker to her mouth, "Raynor, you still there?"
"Yeah."
"We have a prison or something we can throw this guy in?"
"We have a big repurposed warehouse. That's where we keep the spies. And Atarax."
Erin nodded slowly, contemplating. She looked at Redrumei and then glanced back at Bellendore, who was curled up in a pool of blood, with Maldanormu at his side, nursing the warlock's wound. The piece of charred leather was glowing softy and burning with the green embers, gripped in his hand tightly. He was muttering silently, eyes closed tightly.
Erin looked back to the prisoner, then back to Redrumei, "I don't know what to do, Red..."
Redrumei adjusted her grip on the assassin, who had stopped struggling, "Go call the guards."
"Right, okay."
Erin asked Raynor, "Do you have some connection to the guards here at base?"
"'Course I do. I'll send some up. Where are y'all?"
"That tall office building, next to the command center. I think it's used as an armory now?"
"Yeah, yeah. Just a minute."
Raynor's voice quieted, and he spoke into a separate mic, issuing orders, before turning back to Erin's mic, "Alright, they're on the way. Anything else?"
Erin glanced at Red, the latter shaking her head.
Erin responded in the negative, hung up, and just a minute later the swarm of nano-particles she sent out returned to her arm and her outfit rippled as it reorganized its mass.
After a few minutes of tense waiting, several armed guards burst through the doors on either side of the roof and ran to the prisoner. One pulled out a pair of handcuffs made of a gold-ish steel alloy that cut off Void powers. It was made by a rare metal that was imported from Azeroth. There were only four pairs available to the resistance.
A soldier shackled the assassin and lifted him up to his feet after Redrumei let go of him. They patted him down, confiscated his throwing daggers, and reached for the swords on his hip.
He lashed out, swinging his head backward and smashing the nose of the guard holding him. The other guards reacted a second too late, raising their guns just after he had already slipped past them. He reached up, bending forward, and with his hands shackled, reached over his head. His shoulders crackled and then suddenly his hands were cuffed in front of him, rather than behind him.
Erin and Redrumei stood ready, each with the sword they stole - now recolored and reforged to be stronger, sharper, and lighter, and match their outfits - brandished toward the assassin. They ran forward, and the assassin grinned. He swung his hands up and Erin blocked the blow, like a fool.
The cuffs shattered with a bright flash of light, blinding everyone and burning the assassin's skin severely.
He staggered back, screaming in pain, his hands covering his face. When he lowered his hands, Erin and Red cringed backward, seeing the horrible wounding that dripped the void-blood substance.
His skin was scarred horribly, but he snarled and ran forward, barreling over Erin and Redrumei.
He sprinted as fast as he could, bullets whizzing past his head, until he reached the edge of the roof.
The soldiers froze, and Erin and Redrumei stood and stared.
The assassin turned around, back to the edge of the roof, and smiled, "Checkmate."
⇋
Kaldrun's soul struggled in the unstable whitewater river of magic, fighting off the nodules of Void magic. He had been hit multiple times, forced to absorb the energy of his attacker, but if the battle continued to go on like this, he would break under the stress, wiped from existence, or he would be corrupted fully by the Void.
Just as survival seemed to be a distant dream, a huge tendril of Fel magic snaked through the crowd of Void nodules, vaporizing them.
Kaldrun dashed to the current of Fel, letting himself be carried away by it.
He was ripped through the young nether currents, soaring through Earth and over it, until finally the river of Fel energy delivered him to an end, a bright, roaring end that felt all too familiar.
⇋
Maldanormu gestured from his position on his knees, throwing a spell at the assassin. A bronze sheen enveloped the latter, and he was perfectly still.
Maldanormu muttered quietly to himself, "Checkmate."
The guards approached carefully, reaching out to pull him back from the edge of the roof, but there was a bright flash of golden light and the assassin was gone.
Erin, Redrumei, and the squad of soldiers ran to the edge and found him plummeting earthward. Just before he hit the ground, shadows swallowed him, and he was gone.
Redrumei wasted no time in running to tend to Bellendore, and Erin followed her while the guards ran to the elevator.
Red crouched by Bellendore and asked Maldanormu, "Will he live?"
Maldanormu nodded, "Yes, it seems so. For now we must keep the blade in place so he does not bleed out. I have placed a spell on him that slows his internal processes, like a deep hibernation. His blood will pump slower and his body will require less oxygen, so we will have time to transfer him to a medic."
Erin hesitantly reached out, pulled out the dagger, and like the cloth from a mummy her sleeve unraveled from her wrist and wrapped around the warlock's abdomen, acting as a bandage. The sleeve repaired itself quickly, and she stood.
Turning to Redrumei, she said, "Can you help me carry him?"
Redrumei seemed reluctant, but nodded and muttered in the affirmative. They bent down and gingerly raised him, each supporting half of his body.
Neither one noticed as the once-smoldering piece of leather fell from his hands and crumbled to dust.
As Redrumei and Erin walked toward the elevator, Maldanormu bent down and picked up the knapsack that carried the warlock's supplies. He ran his hands through the small pile of dust on the ground, taking a handful and scattering it to the wind.
The assassin's bloody dagger glinted in the sun, catching the dragon-mage's eye.
⇋
It was not too long before they were able to get help for the old man.
He was unconscious since he had collapsed, occasionally muttering to himself or taking deep, shaky breaths and letting them out in pained groans. The medics, however, assured them that he would survive and be cared for well, and that they would send word when he was awake.
Erin, Maldanormu, and Redrumei thanked the medics and left, making their way toward the nearest commissary. All restaurants had been repurposed and there was no presence of private corporations, instead being made as storage facilities for rations and places for soldiers to go to buy food that was separate from their entitled meals.
There was a nip in the air.
It was budding on winter, and that was never good for war, especially when the enemy was an unfeeling mass of tentacles.
When Red and Erin finished their lunches - tuna sammiches and mashed taters - Maldanormu lead them again to Bellendore's tent, and when they got there, a medic shushed them and led them to his bed, where he laid on a cot under a blanket, undressed, his abdomen properly bandaged. As they walked in, the particles that were used in Erin's makeshift bandage materialized from the atmosphere and reassimilated them into her clothes.
She felt a warm, familiar feeling, like the feelings she would have back at home as a child, when she would walk into the foyer and her old black and white lab would trot excitedly up to her.
Redrumei approached and noticed Bellendore's medallion dangling from his neck. The purple gem shined weakly, as did the green gem. They flickered, switching and swirling their colors. Each was marbled with the other's color.
Maldanormu gently pushed past the girls, holding his own amulet, which was showing the same results.
Glancing between the two, Erin asked, "What does that mean?"
Maldanormu did not respond, only asked them to back up. The medic noticed and stepped forward, seeming to be offended, "Excuse me, what are you trying to do here?"
Maldanormu only gazed sternly at the medic, who was intimidated by the dragon-mage's commanding gaze, "Stay back. Your qualifications, while significant, have no use here."
The medic cleared his throat, clearly annoyed, but walked away and continued his work at his desk.
Maldanormu reached down and whispered in Bellendore's ear, and the old man's eyes opened wide, and he took a deep breath, before lurching forward and retching horribly.
Maldanormu stood over him and helped him turn, his legs swinging over the cot.
The frail old man - emphasis on frail - shivered slightly, his eyes barely opened, and he stared at the ground.
"Can you stand?" asked Maldanormu softly, his hand on the warlock's shoulder.
Bellendore opened his mouth to speak, and his lips twitched wildly, his head turning here and there oddly. He stopped, paused, and then simply shook his head.
Another pause.
Then he muttered, roughly, like he had laryngitis, pausing every few syllables, "I... cannot feel... my... legs..."
It was at this moment the medic stepped forward again, a bit more humbly, and said, "He took severe damage to his spinal cord, from what we can tell non-invasively. He's likely to be paralyzed for the rest of his life."
Bellendore seemed to have no reaction to this, but the girls gasped softly and Maldanormu nodded grimly, "I see."
"I'm sorry," whispered the medic.
Maldanormu glanced at the amulet in his right hand, noticing how the two purple and green gems whirled wildly and the colors appeared to fight for dominance, the purple trying to push the green back to its home, and vice versa. But the green gem was darkening slowly, graying out, and the purple gem was slowly being filled with green.
The dragon-mage used his left hand to tilt Bellendore's face to his own, trying to make eye contact. The warlock's face slouched, and his eyelids sagged over his eyes.
"Open your eyes," commanded Maldanormu.
There was a long pause, but the old man worked up the willpower to look up. His eyes were bloodshot, and his irises were not the usual purple color. They swirled just like his representative gem, green flashing here and there.
Maldanormu stood, and Bellendore's eyes closed again, his body slouching.
The dragon-mage looked at Redrumei and Erin, and hesitated before saying, "I have news."
Erin cleared her throat awkwardly, "Is he going to die?"
Redrumei's face was expressionless, and her eyes glimmered with fear, "Which one of them is going to die?"
Maldanormu sighed and looked at the ground, "I could not say. They both fight for control. The only way for either to survive is to work together, but they must first reach a compromise. When you are a shapeless being of pure intent it is hard to repress the resentments they have for each other."
Erin looked annoyed, "Can you please explain what the hell you're saying?"
Maldanormu locked his gaze with hers and spoke like a lecturer, with no emotion, "Bellendore's spell trapped Kaldrun's soul within him. The spell, while it likely prevented Kaldrun from being torn apart in your planet's young magical currents, also caused such a clash between their energies. Kaldrun is trying to take control of the body he likely thinks is his, and Bellendore fights back to protect his vessel. We can do little for them now. We must let them work out their conflicts. If they cannot, then one of them will die. If Bellendore is killed, Kaldrun will be able to live in his vessel for only so long before the vessel decays and Kaldrun's soul is rejected. Kaldrun cannot truly be killed, but I predict that, were it to get this far, Bellendore may trap Kaldrun's soul in an external storage module. A Soul Gem."
Erin blinked, "Wasn't that the whole reason Bellendore was pursuing Kaldrun? Because Kaldrun stole a Soul Gem?"
Maldanormu shifted and cleared his throat, "Hmmm... somewhat. It was a Void Crystal, a shard of physically manifested power from the Old Gods, or any creature of the Void. His was specifically taken from C'thun, and I wouldn't be surprised if it was Bellendore's most prized possession. To say it contains a soul would imply that Void Lords and their subsequents have souls, which it just something we do not know."
Erin's brow crinkled slightly, "'We'?"
"The Dragonflights. The magical authorities across Azeroth. We who study these things."
"And so what's the problem with that? Being trapped in a soul gem?"
Maldanormu sighed and glanced around, thinking, "Nothing, particularly. I am not entirely familiar with Fel magic and demonology, or the darker soul magicks, but I do know that soul gems are meant to be expended. They trap souls to be used later, their energy coalesced into a spell or offered as a tribute to summon a demon. The soul is but a vessel for the energy, and the consciousness within it is cast aside, perhaps even destroyed."
The half of Maldanormu's last sentence was drowned out by the loud inhalation and thud of Bellendore as his eyes shot open and he lurched forward onto the floor.
The medic immediately ran over and watched the warlock, but did little more watching as the old man reached up, clutched the medic's throat, opened his mouth, and sucked the life from the medic.
Screaming, paling, thinning, the medic's eyes rolled back in his head and his skin became gray. Erin was frozen in disgust, but Redrumei and Maldanormu had rushed forward trying to pry them apart.
Redrumei nearly threw up when she pulled the medic away by his shoulder and her fingers sunk into the dusty flesh.
Bellendore released the medic and closed his eyes as the last of the latter's life force was consumed by the former. The medic crumpled to the ground and pieces of him crumbled to dust.
Maldanormu reached beneath the warlock's armpits and helped him back onto the bed, and Bellendore, eyes closed, breathed heavily as he let himself be heaved up.
The dragon-mage fumed, and the warlock looked directly into his eyes. A bitter, hateful pause, as Bellendore's purple irises stared into Maldnanormu's own golden rings. They didn't notice as three guards, armed with automatic rifles, burst into the tent, and were distracted for the moment by Erin and Redrumei.
Shaking with rage, Maldanormu said in a low, threatening voice, "Why?"
Bellendore, his arthritic hand shaking, reached out, holding his palm up. His fingers twitched and he breathed with a rough, pained rhythm. A green haze began to form above his hand, and very small shards of grey crystal rapidly formed and multiplied in the air and shot toward the haze of green, sticking together and forming complex crystalline structures.
The main crystal grew from the center of the haze, which was absorbed into the shards, and eventually encompassed it, becoming a long green crystal about the size of a water bottle.
Bellendore hefted it and handed it to Maldanormu. The former smiled and whispered hoarsely, "Thank me later."
Maldanormu took the crystal and glared at it, "You are a criminal. A threat to this world and Azeroth. A threat to everyone around you."
Bellendore's smile faltered, "What are you saying?"
Maldanormu looked up slowly. He gazed at the guards and stood. He commanded, "Throw him in whatever prison you have."
They nodded and stepped forward, immediately restraining the old man, who was too weak to fight back. He tried yelling, but began hacking painfully. After his fit was over, and he was being dragged out of the tent, he glared over his shoulder at Maldanormu.
He said nothing, but his gaze sent the message.
The Grand Warlock would not forgive. And he would not forget.