A/N

Sorry it took me so long, dear readers. I hope to make it up to you when I tell you that "calling to arms" is divided in three parts, the other two chapters already in the making!

Thank you, Taedae and Windcage.

I'm going to answer all the wonderful comments from the last chapters in the next chapter, ok? You may tell me if you like the many POVs...

"The drums of war thunder, once again..."

STORMWIND CITY, TRADE DISTRICT

The bell of the 'Empty Quiver' rang wildly when Mathias Shaw rushed in. The store was one of the most famous weapon shops in Stormwind when it came to bows, arrows, and guns. The business was run by Frederick and Lina Stover, a father and daughter, who were honest and sincere people. Other than that, Frederick was the royal bowyer of the House of Wrynn.

It was early in the morning and no customers were there, just as Shaw hoped for. Lina came from behind the counter, recognizing the spymaster immediately.

"Good morning, Master Shaw."

She opened the door wide to let a bit of fresh air into the dark interior of the shop. It was mostly made of wood, well equipped, and showed the goods in a very presentable way. The bowyer's workshop was in the backyard, the loud noises telling that someone was working there.

"Good morning, Miss Stover." Mathias greeted back, looking around. "Is your father here?"

"Yes, you can find him in the workshop rearwards."

Mathias nodded. "Thank you."

He crossed the shop and entered through a small passage. The room was stocked with the newest products and tools. Bows of all kinds hung from the ceiling, while Frederick Stover himself crafted a new bow on his big desk. He stopped when Shaw closed the door and turned around. A smile appeared on his face.

"Master Shaw!" Before Mathias knew it, they were shaking hands. "Now, what can I help you with?"

"I was searching for … a present?"

"Yes, of course. Anything for the royal spymaster. What were you looking for?"

"An arrow?"

The vendor winked. "You are just in the right place! What is it you want? A simple, rough arrow? Or a sharp one? I also have a razor arrow, or do you prefer jagged?" Stover pointed at the appropriate items while listing more. "Moreover, I amass Thorium headed arrows from my colleague in Ironforge. I even own Adamantite Stingers from previous times. Rare ones, which I collect, but I would offer one to you as well, Master Shaw."

Mathias followed Stover's detailed recital with attention, yet, the Blightcaller's description of what he was searching for met none of them. "I was thinking of something more extraordinary … of your field of expertise?"

Stover's grin broadened. "I see." He went over to his wooden cabinet and opened it. "I made a new series. I invested considerably more in this work. It demonstrates—"

"Good flight characteristics?" Shaw had already snuck a peek and recognized the arrows lying there. It seemed he found the right place. The only question was, how could he get the craftsman to open up a bit more, to get the information he needed without raising suspicion?

The bowyer took one arrow out before he closed the cabinet and handed the item to Mathias. "I tested them many times, and all the archers I gave them told me they were great to shoot with, making it easier to get the arrows straight into the target, even from a great distance."

Shaw gave his approval by nodding. "I acknowledge your efforts, Mr. Stover."

"It took me a long time to get the balance of the arrow right, Master Shaw. Look—" Taking the arrow, Stover balanced it on his index finger to show what he meant while he continued explaining. "Every archer-friend of mine told me I succeeded in the light-weight characteristics. The arrow is easy to draw and has a steady flight, which offers the possibility of a precise shot."

Mathias was taken with the enthusiasm of the royal bowyer and wasn't able to suppress a slight smile. He always honored dedication when it came to work and handicraft skills. "I think it is a good present, Mr. Stover."

The bowyer nodded eagerly. "You won't regret it, I'm sure, Master Shaw."

"I know that a lot of people from Stormwind value your knowledge and your skilled craftsmanship."

"Ah," Frederick blushed, "I'm only at service to the House of Wrynn."

"And his majesty appreciates your work, too," Mathias replied and added after a short moment, "he recommended your shop."

"Yes," Stover answered with an embarrassed smile and lowered his voice. "You know, Master Shaw, his majesty was here lately and ordered a similar piece to that one, too."

"Of course."

The vendor regarded the spymaster steadily. "He wanted something unique, with red-blue feathers. Would you believe?" He winked again. "I was thinking of the colors of the Alliance and the Horde side by side. I hope it is a good sign?"

Mathias was outright perplexed about the young king's choice but didn't let anything on. His nod was a gesture of consent. "I'm certain it is," Shaw responded with a polite tone. "This was some time ago if I remember correctly? It must have been quite a labor to carve something this intricate." Pretending to have an understanding of the exceptional wish, Shaw picked up his small smile again.

"His majesty was in a hurry, so I didn't have as much time as I wanted, Master Shaw. But I don't think it was some time ago. A few weeks, I guess?" The bowyer examined the arrow. "This one is likely better. I had more time to prepare. You need the present now? Or is there a special wish you would like to mention, too?"

Shaw shook his head. "I'll take this one, if you are so kind as to wrap it?"

"Always at your service, Master Shaw." Stover bowed and accompanied the spymaster, who was lost in thought, back to the shop, where he handed the arrow to Lina. "The spymaster would like to have it wrapped. Would you do it for me? Thank you, Lina."

Shaw looked up. "How much do I owe you?"

The bowyer put his hand shortly over Shaw's hand. "It's on the house, Master Shaw. Let me know if it served its purpose whenever you stop by again."

Shaw nodded. "I will, Mr. Stover. Thank you."

He accepted the gift from Lina, bid farewell, and left the shop, not able to speak more. He was stunned. No. He was confused to no end. The young king ordered that arrow? What did it mean? By the Light, how did it end up in the hands of the Warchief of the Horde? And why did the Blightcaller know nothing specific about it? Why was the undead human in the same dark as he was? This was a puzzle Shaw was more than ever determined to solve. Even if it meant … threatening Anduin again with nonstop supervision!

He headed over to the SI:7 headquarters, first busy with checking on the news about Nazjatar and with his agents. Then, he would confront the King of Stormwind himself.

STORMWIND, THE KEEP

Anduin was busy signing petitions in his father's study, appreciating the calm and the low rays of sunshine shining through the windows, warming him, which he was sorely in need of. He was cold inside, hopeless, and devastated. The recent news about Nazjatar topped it all. Sylvanas willfully lured both fleets—even the one of the Horde—into the hands of Queen Azshara to meet death? Worse, the Horde and the Alliance were trapped there as well? What was she thinking? What had come over her? He was so angry at her!

Yet, he missed holding her in his arms, craving her presence, savoring the feel of her body close to him. He missed her voice mocking him, teaching him or just talking to him. Each night before he slept he relived their moments in Havenswood. The way she made love to him. How she dedicated herself to his pleasure and intimate touches —such an anti-undead thing to do. And how this coupling of theirs was so different. Where did he go wrong? He wondered about their argument, how he could have changed it, how it could have had another ending? But no matter from which point of view he chose to look at it, he couldn't have swayed her, as much as he tried over and over again. She had a plan, and she had the bargain to uphold, she was quite clear about it. If only—

He sighed for the umpteenth time and gave up on his signatures for a moment, burying his head in his hands. Don't deceive yourself. There is no other ending possible for the two of you than the battlefield. He knew it from the beginning and should accept it! Even Valeera's words were in the back of his mind: Don't forget she is a cruel and vengeful sort of being. Please be careful. Well, it was too late, now. The happiness he hoped for with Sylvanas was not his to have. Neither in this life nor in the afterlife that would await him. What was he to do other than fight for what he believed was the right thing? What could be done—

"Your majesty."

Anduin slowly lifted his head, his expression carefully neutral. Following his train of thought, he hadn't even heard the door open, less the possible knock. "Master Shaw. It's good to see that you are back from Kul Tiras."

"It's good to be back in Stormwind. Kul Tiras has its charms, but these walls will always be home."

Anduin stared for a moment and had to smile despite his low spirits. He would never have thought the Leader of SI:7 could be something like homesick.

"We need to talk, your majesty."

Anduin's small smile vanished. He leaned back and sighed. "Tell me the news, spymaster."

Shaw stepped forward and put an opened gift box with an arrow down on his desk. Anduin glanced at it and looked up questioningly.

"Is there a conspiracy going on I know nothing about, your majesty?"

The young king raised his eyebrows. "A conspiracy?"

The spymaster scrutinized him. "An arrow such as that one reached the hands of the Warchief of the Horde."

Anduin remained calm. "And?"

"Strict security measures I arranged should have prevented an assassination attempt on your majesty."

"An assassination attempt on me? What are you hinting at, Master Shaw?"

The spymaster sent him a sharp look. "That we possibly have a breach of the rules?" He leaned forward. "It would explain the numerous presence of dark rangers here in Stormwind."

Anduin didn't say a word, so Shaw continued with his theories. "I was thinking the Horde was behind it—but no. I've heard from a reliable source that it wasn't the case."

Anduin rubbed his eyes. "Didn't you speak of strict security measures taken? I'm still alive."

"Has then a threat from the Defias recently reached you, King Wrynn?"

Anduin frowned. "Don't you think that blaming the Defias is a bit far-fetched, Master Shaw?"

Shaw placed his fists on the desk. "Allow me to speak freely, your majesty."

"Of course."

"The arrow that reached the hands of the Warchief of the Horde is similar to this one." He pointed at the opened box.

"I still haven't grasped—"

"And you just bought one not long ago as a present from the 'Empty Quiver'. I have a witness."

Anduin rested his elbows on the table. "Continue."

"Was the arrow a present for a Dark Ranger? How come it ended up in the hands of the Warchief of the Horde? Shall I remind you of our last talk and what it was about?"

"You are one of my most trusted advisors, Master Shaw," Anduin said wearily. "We talked about trust before."

"It still left the question open whether you fraternize with the enemy or not."

Anduin pressed his lips together for a moment before speaking. "So. Do you accuse me of treason, Spymaster? I, who was well taught by my father that the Alliance has to stand above it all?" His voice turned bitter. "I asked you to trust me. But even though you said so, you never did."

He turned away and was about to stand up when Shaw quickly rounded the table and came to a stop before him. "I beg your pardon, your majesty. But as we both know, we are still at war. What am I to believe after—"

The young king's face saddened. "To believe in me, Mathias? That was all I ever asked. What have I done that every one of you think me not worthy of making decisions of my own?" He gazed at his spymaster. "I survived Onyxia. I survived my father being split into two personalities. I survived the divine bell crashing down on me—"

He paused. "I survived it all. I tried to do as you all advised me. I took my father's place, I fought for it and I tried to please everybody. All I would like to have in return is the belief in me to do the right thing." He momentarily glanced away. "I thought I had at least the spymaster on my side."

"Did you plan an assassination attempt on Sylvanas Windrunner and disguised it as a present?"

"Speculating wildly again, Master Shaw?"

"Then explain, your majesty!"

Anduin squared his shoulders. "I don't think I need to do that."

"I know you are young, King Wrynn, but—"

"Being young doesn't mean that life didn't teach me enough lessons, Master Shaw," Anduin answered him reticently. "And you, as my clever spymaster, should know this."

"Your majesty!" Shaw's voice was blunt and turned dangerously low. "Shall we speak about what I told you before when another stunt of yours happened? That you are subject to full monitoring?"

"Master Shaw—"

A loud knock on the door interrupted their heated conversation.

"Please come in," Anduin said, not quite in the mood to discuss more of it.

One of his Lion's Guards entered with a scroll in his hands which he handed over to the young king. "Your majesty. The Alliance's champion just passed this to me. For you. He said it's urgent."

Anduin took it and nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

He opened it immediately, recognizing it was a letter from High Overlord Varok Saurfang. While reading, his heart skipped a beat. The battlefield seemed closer than he had foreseen. And, with it, Sylvanas.

Shaw had certainly wanted to ask more important questions, but upon the unexpected sequence of events occurring, which Anduin told him about, he seemed to postpone them. It was more than likely there would be no necessity for it later, the young king grimly thought.

ORGRIMMAR, GROMMASH HOLD, late at night

As was her recent habit, Sylvanas paced back and forth in the Hold while she contemplated every future possibility. Nathanos returned not long ago, telling her about Nazjatar, how the Alliance and the Horde had united, and defeated Queen Azshara in the Eternal Palace together, finding common cause. N'Zoth had risen from the depths.

But it wouldn't do to cross bridges before she came to them. The next steps should be prepared, the sooner the better. It wouldn't take long and Orgrimmar wasn't safe anymore at all. Yes, her plans seemed to be a success, but all in good time. Still, there was one longing left, one she wanted to give in so desperately she couldn't stop thinking about it. Even if it meant all would go down afterward, she wanted to have it against all odds. Despite all other options she planned.

Sylvanas closed her eyes. For one night, she wanted to have Anduin for herself! Again. The sooner the better. To take all he offered—because she would never be able to claim it afterward. The pain and the ache this brought to her cold heart was constant. Yet, she had to let him go, she told herself. There was no other choice.

Not in the slightest liking, she was interrupted in her thoughts. She looked up as a new visitor entered. "Lenara."

The impatience in Sylvanas' sharp voice made the dark ranger —who was an extraordinary archer and thus was usually ordered by the Dark Lady to oversee the training of dark rangers within the Underhold— come to a halt and bow her head. Since she sent her most trusted dark rangers for more tasks around Azeroth, she relied more and more on others, less experienced ones. However, she had to advise Nathanos and Areiel to drill them better.

"Dark Lady."

"Report for duty, Lenara."

"I have been tracking Saurfang and Thrall after we let them escape, Dark Lady, as you told me to do so. Their treason knows no bounds." The dark ranger shook her head. "You must know that they now conspire with our sworn enemies."

Sworn enemies? That could only mean one thing. "So what is Saurfang's plan?"

Lenara's eyes glowed. "They move against us."

"They are already on their way here?"

"Yes, Dark Lady."

Sylvanas' red eyes widened. "Tell me who, and how many there are."

THE RUINS OF THERAMORE, hours before

It was raining cats and dogs in the evening, a thunderstorm brewing for some time now. The weather was fitting for another meeting with Saurfang, Anduin thought while he galloped on Reverence, his white-coated warhorse, Valeera Sanguinar and Mathias Shaw at his side through Dustwallow Marsh to the ruins of Theramore. Saurfang's letter was still on his mind, which had arrived in the afternoon and set him on this path.

Anduin. Sylvanas' actions have threatened us all. And day by day, her power grows. If our world is to survive we must strike while we still can. Meet with me and we will speak.

Once they arrived, he dismounted Reverence outside a ruined watchtower, where he was greeted by Baine Bloodhoof and Lady Jaina Proudmoore. Good to know that his quick message reached his aunt, too, he thought. Besides, the necessary organization for the meeting interrupted Shaw's cross-examination about arrows and conspiracies, which he was also grateful for. He trusted his sword, Shalaymane, to Valeera, as agreed, and climbed the many stairs of the semi-derelict tower. With his heart heavy, Anduin spotted the old Orc at the window—or what was left of it—and stepped beside him, looking out at the encampment of Horde soldiers following Saurfang. Anduin showed concern.

"So few?"

"Hm," Saurfang snorted, glancing at him. "How many can you provide?"

"Enough for one final assault," Anduin replied quietly. "If that fails, we're done." There was something else that occupied his mind on his way here that he wanted to know. He gazed at the orc. "If we end her reign, what kind of warchief will you be?"

Saurfang's face had a thoughtful expression while he cradled the Horde's necklace of his fallen son in his hands. "The Horde I joined was birthed in blood. Tainted by corruption. The road that led to the Dark Portal was long and wide paved with the bones of innocents." He sighed. "We called it the path of glory." In a fit of anger, he pounded his hand against the stones of the watchtower. "That was the great lie upon which the Horde was founded, that anything we did was honorable. Thrall, Vol'jin … they were not the true heirs to Blackhand's blood legacy. Sylvanas Windrunner is."

Perhaps a part of her Anduin thought, but not all of her. "No," he, therefore, disagreed. "No, this is the Horde." He pointed down at the encampment. "Led by you. Someone who has—"

"Honor?" Saurfang snorted in derision. "I've never known honor. They deserve more. But the Horde is doomed to be shackled by the chains of the past."

"The Horde has no exclusive claim to regrets. Arthas, Daelin? The ghosts of the past haunt us as well," the young king retorted.

"We could not fill the chasm between the Horde and the Alliance if we labored 1000 years. You know this."

Anduin's gaze never left Saurfang's face while he spoke. "Then what are we fighting for?"

The Orc hesitated for a moment and made a sign toward Anduin to follow him. They headed down in silence outside the tower, and when they exited, the High Overlord grabbed his axe, raising his voice. "Soldiers! On your feet!"

The Horde troops stood, and Lor'themar Theron, First Arcanist Thalyssra, Thrall, Eitrigg, and Rexxar, together with Mathias Shaw, Jaina Proudmoore and Valeera Sanguinar, who all were also waiting outside, looked expectantly at them.

Anduin understood what Saurfang aimed for. "Start breaking camp immediately!"

Zekhan, the troll who usually didn't leave Varok's side, questioningly looked up at the Orc. "Lord … Saurfang?"

"Zekhan. Where is our home?"

The troll thought for a moment. "Orgrimmar?"

"Not our city. Our home." The Orc put a hand on the young troll's shoulder to make him realize what he asked for.

"Azeroth."

The same moment the answer was given, Anduin turned to Jaina. "And ours?"

"Azeroth," she replied in earnest.

That was the cue he waited for. The young king raised his voice so all could hear him talking. "Right now, there are only two forces in this world that matter. One bent on harming our world—"

Saurfang immediately picked up the young king's intent. "And one that will protect her."

"So, what are we doing?" Zekhan asked, finally.

Saurfang glanced at Anduin with a smile. "Breaking the cycle."

To protect Azeroth, they would set up camp at Razor Hill and plan to strike at Orgrimmar. While all others were busy getting ready to be on the move, Valeera took the time to remain at Anduin's side for a while, watching the preparations.

"You have made up your mind about where to meet your beloved Warchief again?"

"She's not my warchief, Valeera."

She watched him patiently, her voice low. "So you're determined to meet her on the battlefield?"

"I have no other choice, have I?" Anduin said, trying to sound humorous even if he didn't feel much like it.

"Do I have to torch the both of you, then?" She joked back.

"I don't think so."

"Do I have to watch you kiss?"

"Valeera—"

"You still believe you've gotten through to her?"

"Don't tease me." Anduin became melancholic. "I know I haven't."

ORGRIMMAR, GROMMASH HOLD

Sylvanas snorted upon hearing Lenara's report. "Saurfang has shown his true colors and now enlists the aid of the Alliance?" For a moment, she looked to the side. Even though she anticipated this, even though she had the young king more or less driven in that direction, she felt a pang of betrayal. The Horde would be reunited once they all stood in front of Orgrimmar with what she planned, in one way or another—she was expecting all kinds of final results. —Nevertheless, it wouldn't go without sacrifices that ... hurt more than she cared to admit. Sylvanas growled under her breath. Why did she think she would have more time to plan it all out and consider every possibility? Including that one night with Anduin? Why did she have to have that battle meeting him vis-à-vis so soon?

Anduin. Before the well-known agony hit her again, she turned back to Lenara and carried on. "Meet with those who have remained loyal to the Horde, Lenara. You'll find Overlord Geya'rah and Gallywix somewhere around Orgrimmar. They are to ready themselves for the battle against our enemies."

"What about Eitrigg, Dark Lady?"

"Eitrigg?" Sylvanas laughed derisively. "I know where he stands. If he isn't already outside the gates, bring him to Nathanos."

Sylvanas moved to the throne to pick up her bow and her quiver which was without Anduin's arrow now. No. Stop thinking of him, she scolded herself. While getting ready, she gazed at her dark ranger. "Report to Nathanos once you have rallied our forces. There remains much to do." Determined, she walked over to her and nodded. "We will grind these traitors into dust. Go, Lenara."

Just at this moment, another dark ranger entered Grommash Hold and made the Warchief stop immediately. Did she assume rightly why Areiel, her most trusted and one of her eldest rangers, came? What did she have to say? Sylvanas waited for Lenara to leave, and stayed quiet. They scrutinized each other until, finally, her Ranger Captain kneeled in front of her.

"Dark Lady."

Sylvanas eyed her suspiciously. "Areiel?"

"Dark Lady, I came—"

Fearing for those reasons, Sylvanas reacted harshly. "Do you bring important news? If not, just return to your post."

"My lady. Please do understand me. I have to go … and fight at his side."

A moment of silence followed. Frowning, the Warchief looked down at her. "So you have chosen your loyalty at last. Even though you are the Captain of my dark rangers?"

"My lady. It's not—"

"You are aware, Areiel, that the moment you stand on the other side of Orgrimmar, you are no longer my Ranger Captain."

"I am, Dark Lady."

Sylvanas continued watching her, knowing Areiel was determined. Why? Areiel had always been one of those who was supposed to stay forever by her side. Always convinced, as she was, to fight for the right cause. However, since her Dark Ranger Captain told her that Anduin saved her, she changed. As if she found a new reason to fight for, and it wasn't specifically one of those the Forsaken fought for so long: Acceptance. Recognition. Survival.

"You must know, Dark Lady," Areiel spoke, "that we all adore you. We give our life gladly for you. You are our family. You gave us hope. You gave us purpose. You gave us freedom. You gave us a reason to continue. But he—"

Sylvanas felt how the familiar pang of hurt returned. Yet, she tried to gather calm to let Areiel go on talking. "He?"

"He is to be adored, too."

There was silence again. The Dark Lady was shocked. Immense sadness, but also joy and admiration were in those few words. Did Areiel ... change her perspective, despite all that happened? Did they all, in the end? Was this what Anduin had referred to in Havenswood? You didn't care for the Forsaken as a collection of individuals. Anger and rage came back to her. Hell, how she hated him for saying that! Wasn't it a blessing not to know about feelings such as hope, or love, or trust, or joy, or the mere pain of a living existence?

She couldn't help but made a snide remark. "He saved you, that's why you adore him."

"No." Areiel shook her head. "Perhaps I do, but it's you he looks at and always comes for. You are lucky, my lady. And I think it's time to stop clinging on our outdated views on humans and people in general. You only have to open your eyes, my lady." Areiel stood up. "That's why I decided to take my place at his side."

"A betrayal after all, Areiel?"

"He needs my protection more than you do, my lady."

Sylvanas was rendered speechless, left wondering if Areiel interpreted too much by meeting an exceptional human or if she interpreted too little in these meetings with Anduin. "I'll pretend I didn't hear any of this," she hissed.

"Dark Lady—"

"I'll also pretend you went without my blessing."

"Dark Lady?"

"But I won't let you go without one last assignment."

"I—"

"You'll protect him with your life."

Areiel nodded. "I'll protect him." She looked Sylvanas straight in the eyes. "Even if it means I'll have to protect him from you."

Sylvanas' red eyes glowed deep. "You better go now, Areiel."

Her Ranger Captain bowed. "Thank you, Dark Lady. Farewell, my lady."

Being left behind, Sylvanas cursed herself for letting one of her most trusted Forsaken go. Why was Areiel's farewell like another stab in the heart? Again, and always, she would be left alone, in the end. She clenched her fists.

Was there nothing she could do?

RAZOR HILL, BARRACKS

It was all too quick for Anduin's taste: the march together to Durotar through the night, and the arrival at Razor Hill, making camp. Not far away from Orgrimmar, and thus, not far away from her, the Warchief of the Horde. The area was dry, baked red by the sun and littered with cacti and watering holes, mirrored the young king's unusual taciturnity. Even though the early morning in the desert was comfortably warm and bright enough to send some light into the Horde hut, Anduin was in a gloomy mood. They currently contrived their next steps and actions.

"For years, I guarded the gates of Orgrimmar. The city's greatest weakness has always been its multiple entrances. We should strike at all of them to seize victory," Saurfang repeated his suggestion.

Anduin tried to sidetrack himself from pondering too much. "If you think it best that we split up, I suggest the mages cover our flank. Genn could close in from the west, and the elves could take the north."

Saurfang nodded. "Not only this. We will send Mayla to reinforce Thunder Bluff's defenses in case Sylvanas launches a counterattack."

"Don't you think—"

"We have much to do. The Banshee moves swiftly."

"It is time to end this cycle of hatred," Jaina interjected.

"I know this is our one and only chance," Anduin agreed, "but we have to take into consideration that we are—" He didn't get further with the arrival of the Champions of the Horde and Alliance who waited to be informed about the details of the plan.

Zekhan, Varok Saurfang, and Thrall stood on one side in the middle of the hut, Anduin, Lady Jaina Proudmoore, Master Shaw, and Shandris Feathermoon on the other side. Anduin and Saurfang had planned the battle more or less in the last hour and discussed some strategies when Alleria and Vereesa Windrunner arrived, still, they remained in the background. It was strange to have Sylvanas' sisters present.

While the Horde's champion spoke to the Horde side, the Alliance's champion stepped forward, too, looking around. "Where is Tyrande?"

The question touched raw nerves, so Anduin shook his head. "She … hasn't responded to my missives since the departing for Darkshore. I fear vengeance has consumed her." He made a significant pause. "But your arrival is timely, Champion. We just heard that Sylvanas' loyalists have collapsed part of the canyon path to Orgrimmar. We are cut off from our vanguard and I fear they will be destroyed if we cannot reinforce them quickly. We cannot afford to leave them stranded for long. Tinkmaster Overspark and Gazlowe believe they have a solution. Hurry and aid them however you can. Join forces with the Horde's champion! We have prepared for this battle as best we can. I pray we all survive what is to come."

Just at that moment, Alleria stepped forward. "King Wrynn. May we speak?"

"Of course."

"Our sister is patient. She knows we have precious few soldiers left. While we lay siege to Orgrimmar, she will whittle away our numbers. But Sylvanas is not the only threat we face. The Old God has been freed. I can hear his whispers … sense his unseen tendrils writhing all around us."

Anduin nodded. "I know, Alleria. What are you suggesting?"

"Sylvanas commands what may be the only army capable of defeating N'Zoth. For the sake of Azeroth … perhaps we should stand aside and let her?"

Anduin took a deep breath. It wasn't easy for him to say this, but he did, nevertheless. During their united march toward Razor Hill, the windmills of his mind didn't stop. In the end, he had to admit to himself that if Sylvanas ever wanted to join hands with him, he had offered her enough chances to do so. And their last talk in Havenswood convinced him that she was about to go her own way. Not theirs. "Your sister will not fight for us, Alleria. When Sylvanas realized the war was on the cusp of ending, she lured both fleets into Azshara's hands. Not to find victory, but to meet death." The shock about it was still recognizable in his voice.

The long wait for a common position had worn Anduin down, but even though he was deeply convinced Sylvanas wanted the greater good, in the end, their methods to achieve it differed greatly. And that hadn't changed, whatever he tried. As a consequence, their strike on Orgrimmar must be seen as a strategic issue to force the Warchief of the Horde into cooperation. At least, that was all that he wanted: To stop her from doing more harm to individuals, may they be from the Horde or the Alliance! Still, he would never, ever stop hoping for peace, seeing too much good in too many people to paint them all as evil and worthy of slaughter. He saw even glimpses of it in Sylvanas, in making love to him! But the Warchief's obviously reduced interest in safeguarding Azeroth was a result of them standing here, in front of the capital city of the Horde. And a part of him didn't doubt that Sylvanas perhaps wanted them to unite to fight against her, whatever her reasons may be.

Saurfang, who watched him, seemed to realize his consternation. "In the end," he answered slowly, "death claims us all. Eitrigg told me those were among the last words Sylvanas spoke to Vol'jin."

Anduin knew those words of hers as well. He exhaled slowly, being tasked with a heartbreaking duty. "We cannot wage two wars," he spoke. "Sylvanas must fall. Here. Now. Before all is lost."

Before she replied in a firm tone, Alleria swallowed. "It shall be so, my king. Vereesa and I will scout her line for weaknesses. Good luck … to all of us."

Tired, worried, but attentive, the young king heard something swinging in the Void Elf's voice he couldn't define. Regret? "Is there something else?"

Anduin saw on Alleria's face that she contemplated several things. She pulled him aside, seeming determined. "I need to tell you something." While the others continued talking, she leaned closer to him. "Sylvanas … asked to meet me," she whispered.

From one moment to the next, he paled and frowned. "When?"

"Some days ago."

"What did she want?"

"She made me promise her something. And it feels … foreboding with the events now."

"What did you promise her?"

Alleria hesitated a tiny moment before she admitted: "To protect you at all costs."

Anduin was baffled. "Protect me … from what?"

"I can't tell you much," the Void Elf murmured. "We met at our parents' place and she came for something important, it was quite obvious. I should help her make a decision, but when I asked, the only thing she told me was that I should protect you. And she made me swear it."

The young king's eyes rested on her, searching, focusing. "She knew I would come to Orgrimmar?"

"Yes."

He inhaled sharply and shook his head. "Alleria—"

"I made a promise," she whispered again. "And if there's only one thing I can do for her than it is to keep this promise." Suddenly, the Void Elf looked sad. "I did not do much for her but take my anger out on her that she should have looked after Vereesa while I was away. Seeing her as an undead was very hard for me, to see that not much of my beloved sister was left. How could I forget that my Lady Moon had not chosen this fate for herself but that it was bestowed on her from a damn human? All she wanted was to protect her home." She put a hand on the shoulder of her younger sister who stood beside her. "And Vereesa chose her children over her. She apologized for it when we three sisters met, but I guess it was too late. Too much hatred is in our sister's heart. I have a feeling deep down she still lives for the vengeance. I guess being undead—"

For the first time, Anduin smiled. "No, that is where you are wrong, Alleria," he interrupted her quietly. "After meeting you, her sisters, she started to find a way back to life."

Alleria shot him a scrutinizing look. "Since we are at this topic, how come you were involved with her? And never mentioned a word about it?"

"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell. Besides, she … made the first step. I kind of forced her into it, but it was she who initiated it." Anduin's cheeks warmed while telling this in a low voice. "What became first an affair of secret meetings grew into so much more—" he stopped but feeling that he owed Sylvanas' sisters a bit more insight, he carried on, "and because of the given situation, I wanted to make it official."

Alleria stared at him for some time before she spoke. "You wanted to make it official? You put your faith in her?"

The young king nodded. "With all my heart, Alleria. I was tired of the secrecy and feared of somebody finding out having much more bitter consequences than admitting it by myself. But I guess it was too early. She denied," Anduin sighed, "and I still think about it."

Vereesa gasped beside Alleria, stunned by the news just as her eldest sister. "What happened?"

Anduin's heart lurched painfully but he composed himself. "She told me she had to uphold a deal, and that there was something she must do. She was quite persistent about it."

Both elves gaped at him. "How did you ... how did you ... get through to her?" Alleria choked, visibly perplexed. A bit hurt, too. "I tried so many times!"

"I talked to her," Anduin replied in earnest.

"I see."

"Alleria." Anduin leaned closer. "Don't stress yourself. Please. I just had more time. She loves you," he nodded toward the two Windrunner sisters, "and Vereesa very much. She will never admit it, but she does. More than you both know."

"I always knew she's not a monster, but—"

"She isn't," Anduin said matter-of-factly. "She's just lost. Unable to cease enacting her own fate over and over again. And she's alone and isolated. But, she doesn't know when to stop. This war, for example. She doesn't know how to quit the 'The end justifies the means'- attitude of hers, plus omitting to pursue the survival of the fittest." He remained resolute. "Her mentality will never allow her to. And that's why I will stop her. But I never planned to let her die, Alleria." No, he added in his thoughts, we'll have a different outcome, I'm certain.

"What could you possibly see in her?" Alleria wanted to know, as curious and obstinate as Vereesa who nodded her assent.

The heat in his face intensified. "You mean because we differ that much? Because she is from the darkness and I am from the light? I'd just say take a look at you and your husband, Alleria."

"I ask because she's our sister, Anduin."

"It's in the way she opens up to me." Anduin was sure he was flushed a deep red. "She always stayed tender toward me. I can't describe it otherwise."

His remark raised a small smile out of Alleria. "You make it sound like magic. And you must have caught a part in our sister that is still alive, Anduin," she acknowledged, "otherwise she would've never stood in front of me, making me swear to protect you from going to Orgrimmar."

In the meantime, the others turned toward them, and Jaina called out for Anduin.

"I'm going to ask more later," Alleria murmured and moved back with her sister while the young king turned back to the others.

ORGRIMMAR, GROMMASH HOLD

Sylvanas paced back and forth again. Alongside Nathanos, Overlord Geya'rah, Jestor Gallywix, and the champion who stayed loyal to her, some of her dark rangers lined up.

Nathanos snorted. "It seems the rats have finally come out of hiding, my queen. Which will make it easier to exterminate them. We won't delay. We have waited for this moment long enough."

"These traitors will be dealt with." She nodded. "No more leniency. No more weakness! The fools who follow Saurfang have grown bold enough to launch a direct assault. We cannot allow these pests to swarm before our gates!"

Nathanos picked up her line. "Our operatives are collapsing the pass between Razor hill and Orgrimmar as we speak. Saurfang's treasonous forces will be cut in half. Our task is to sneak into their ranks and sabotage their siege engines." He turned to the Dark Rangers. "Wear this disguise, but know that it will not hold up under close examination. Slay anyone who discovers you."

"Recently, dissidents have been posting propaganda around the city and spreading all manner of lies," Lenara continued reporting.

"This is no time to entertain delusion. An army of traitors and sworn enemies assemble at our gates. These ingrates would see us become pincushions for the Alliance's archers." Nathanos rolled his eyes. "Tear down the rubbish. It can only lead to panic in the streets. And should you encounter any… resistance… you are hereby authorized to respond with force."

RAZOR HILLS, OUTSKIRTS

When Anduin stepped out of the Horde hut, the sun almost blinded him. A last detonation of the minebots was to be heard. Did it give away that they were successful? He searched for his soldiers, passing the High Overlord's Vanguard and the High Overlord's Raiders, Dwarven Riflemen, Darnassian Archers, some Darkspear Hunters, and the 7th Legion flank with siege tanks, until he reached the Alliance Guard and the Stormwind Knights. He neared his Lion's Guard when he was held up by the running Champions who breathlessly reported that they had cleared the canyon.

"Thank the Light you were able to open the passageway into the Dranosh'ar Blockade. We may have rejoined the vanguard but Sylvanas' forces have been harrying our front line." Anduin nodded. "It's time for us to move forward—"

An outcry and a sudden disquiet went through the gathered crowd and onlookers the moment a dark ranger stepped into the circle closest to Anduin, and interrupted him. Recognizing Areiel with horror, he sprinted in front of her with outstretched arms, not a moment too late, thus shielding her from his armed Guards.

"Stop." His sharp voice made the soldiers pause, clearly stunned that their king was in the middle of them, and protected the Warchief's Loyalist.

Areiel, calm and cool, stepped in front of him and sank to her knees. "Let me stay close to you, my king."

With a mixture of being bewildered about her courage but liking her for it, and knowing her nature at the same time, Anduin couldn't help but tease her. "Then, I fear, you have to be willing to wear a Lion Guard Chain Mail, Areiel."

She eyed the soldiers next to him who still had their swords pointed at her. "That uniform, my king?"

"Yes," Anduin nodded, grinning inwardly, but keeping a severe manner. "There's no other choice."

Areiel frowned but stood up and nodded back, determined. "If it allows me to remain close to you and protect you, then I will do so."

Now he couldn't hinder a grin from escaping him. She was really up for it? Had Sylvanas let her go or did she just leave? "You know, Areiel, I would never force you to join—"

"I was serious, my king. Give me that damn armor. I'll wear it."

Anduin was still grinning. "The color may suit you," he said with a wink.

She only raised her eyebrows. "Tell your soldiers I'm not one for flirts. But I will fight among and for them if needed."

"I'll vouch for her." The voice of the person that stepped toward them both belonged to nobody else but Shandris Feathermoon, General of the Sentinel Army who stood amongst her Kaldorei Sentinel next to them.

Areiel nodded her head again. "General Feathermoon. Thank you."

"I second that."

The next person walking in their circle was John J. Keeshan. Areiel looked over to him, and to all their surprise, he raised a smirk out of her. "Are you certain, Keeshan? A human vouching for an undead?"

"I am. If our king trusts you, I will do the same. Besides, it takes a lot of courage to appear amid your enemy."

Areiel pointed toward Anduin. "I'm here to protect him."

Keeshan grinned. "I can see that our majesty won you over, Dark Ranger."

The young king smiled now. In a rush decision, he took his own tabard from his armor and put it over the head of the Dark Ranger Captain. "There, my Guard. It makes you my personal one, Areiel."

Areiel looked at him, surprised again, and a smile flew over the undead elf's face, which all the soldiers saw. She dropped to one knee in front of the High King of the Alliance once more, and took her bow and quiver down, lying them at his feet. "Then I am at your command, my king."

If the vouches of their King, Shandris Feathermoon, and John J. Keeshan had not convinced the Alliance's soldiers crowding around them that she was to be trusted, the undead elf's sincere words did. They put their weapons aside and stepped back.

The same moment, Anduin pulled Shalamayne from his back and cautiously tapped Areiel's right and left shoulders with his sword. "I, Anduin Llane Wrynn, High King of the Alliance and King of Stormwind, promote you, Dark Ranger Captain Areiel, to be a part of my Lion's Guard from now on. Do you swear to protect and honor your king?"

Areiel looked up to him and bowed her head with a serious expression, seemingly aware of the sudden ceremonious atmosphere. "I swear that I will protect and honor my king with my undead being, sacrificing it if necessary to defend you."

Anduin didn't lose his smile, seeing that General Feathermoon and Keeshan had come to stand next to the kneeling undead elf. His soldiers fell silent and looked at them with awe.

"Now, rise, Lion Guard Areiel," he noted.

While Areiel did, glancing down at the blue-golden tabard she now wore over her dark coat and took up her bow and quiver, Anduin searched the crowd. "Captain Shwayder of the Lion Guard."

The one called for hurried to hasten beside Anduin, who nodded toward him. "Please welcome our newest member to the Guard. Instruct her on what to do and make sure she stays close beside you all. Understood?"

The man nodded. "Of course, your majesty."

"You can trust her with your life. If she says she will do it, she means it. That's one thing to learn from a Dark Ranger Captain."

Shwayder, who was an experienced man himself, knew what the title meant and blinked. "She's … their Captain, your majesty? Why did she leave—"

"Not a Captain anymore as you can imagine, Captain Shwayder," Areiel interrupted him dryly.

The young king had more to say. "The same reason why there are so many other Horde members here, Captain Shwayder? That they believe in the same thing we do? To end this war? To fight together?"

"I ... I think … I understand, your majesty."

Anduin bowed his head in agreement and readied Shalamayne. "I believe it is time we set out—"

Saurfang arrived in the meantime, getting visibly alarmed when he recognized Areiel beside Anduin. "She is one of Sylvanas' dark rangers! A spy in our midst?" he bellowed, looking grimly but also questioningly at the Forsaken who wore a blue-golden tabard now.

"She means well, Saurfang," Anduin replied, coming to stand once more in front of Areiel to shield her. "She's a member of my personal Guard now. We met in Vol'dun, and she helped me gain some insight into Horde's movements. Moreover, she just swore an oath of loyalty to me, which is why I believe in her."

Silence followed Anduin's clear and determined words.

Saurfang was seemingly confused. "You know one of Sylvanas' dark rangers?"

Anduin nodded. "I know many members of the Horde, Saurfang, which is why I want to end this war, among other reasons. As I said, there will be peace."

The High Overlord shook his head but reacted in a composed way. "So be it, then."

"Our forces are in place," Anduin remarked. "The way is clear. Let's just get to the front."

And then, they were all on the move, through the canyon, reaching for the Dranosh'ar Blockade, which was a massive system of fortifications outside the Gates of Orgrimmar, stretching east-west in front of the northern mountains of Durotar. It was built after the end of the war against the Lich King for defense purposes.

For a moment, Anduin was plagued by his conscience while running. Didn't Sylvanas tell him not long ago that Orgrimmar was more exposed than Stormwind? Draw off our navy, land troops in Durotar and Azshara, isolate the city, begin the siege from two directions, wait for the city to starve... What was he doing now? The same thing?

Yet, he had no more time to muse about her words. With the arrival of all in front of the imposing Gates of Orgrimmar, squads of soldiers of the Alliance and the Horde, reinforced by ballistae, tanks, and siege towers, as well as Azerite war machines, he was informed about important news. And when Saurfang beckoned him to follow, he hastened to meet him.

The rebellion's leadership was about to discuss the details of the last step.

INSIDE ORGRIMMAR, late morning

The warm sunrise had turned into a very hot morning. Was it appropriate for a battle? Even though it played in favor of Orgrimmar's citizens, who were mostly used to the unusually high temperatures at that time? The sun burned the earth of Durotar, its searing light almost blinding. The Horde's capital city was eerily silent since the Warchief locked the city down, though the streets of Orgrimmar were filled with various citizens. It was a silence the Forsaken were used to, but the living not.

Sylvanas reinforced the Gates of Orgrimmar with a cadre of dark rangers among the positioned Forsaken warriors on the rampart, including many archers. The rest, namely the Mag'har forces, more Dark Rangers, Goblins, and Forsaken waited on the Gate for the inevitable beginning of the fight. Sylvanas' spies were still out there, doing their best.

She stood a bit away from the others upon the crenelated ramparts, watched every move toward the city like a hawk, having already spotted Anduin coming out of the cleared canyon with his guards in tow. Watching him for a long time, she was torn over whether she should get angry or be relieved that he was here despite her wishes. Her look followed him even when he disappeared into a hut, which was a part of what was called the Jaggedswine Farm.

They were all down there. All who she once knew and worked together with: Thrall. Varok Saurfang. Lor'themar Theron. First Arcanist Thalyssra. Rokhan. Not long ago, they fought together. The feeling of betrayal intensified, even though Sylvanas knew nothing else than her chosen path led them here. The young troll who didn't leave Saurfang's side since the Siege of Lordaeron was part of it as well. He reminded her of Vol'jin. For a moment, she had to turn away. The words of the former Warchief of the Horde were still in her ears, and from time to time she wondered if his Loa told him those, or if they had been his own interpretation. You must step out of da shadows and lead.

If it was the latter, had Vol'jin perhaps seen much more than what he should have seen? Much more of what she knew was planned? The shadows were her place. Always had been. So did she overlook an important step? The pain inside of her deepened. Let me be the Light in your darkness. Anduin's words accompanied her wherever she went. Did she make the right choice? Why did she start to doubt now?

It took some time, then they walked into her sight again, the hatred puppy leaving earlier—not on Anduin's side, then?— and the young king went on foot to the forefront, toward his soldiers. The first flank was a mixture of humans, dwarves, and night elves, and he was there, like a shining beacon, like a star, a shimmer of Light in his shiny armor. The Light she was about to destroy today.

AT THE DRANOSH'AR BLOCKADE

Anduin walked behind Saurfang into the hut, and Genn, who just arrived in time to take part in the battle, came as well, already in Worgen form.

"We just got new information on Sylvanas," Saurfang mentioned to Thrall and nodded toward Anduin.

"I was told that in the chaos of the rockslides, Sylvanas dispatched her saboteurs to sneak past our sentries and plant bombs on our siege weaponry. Several of them have already been lost. We cannot afford to lose more," Anduin reported. "Our people are tired and our resources are dwindling. We need every weapon and soldier at our disposal if we are to take the city."

Saurfang agreed. "As a consequence, let's go with the consensus as follows: I maintain that the key to taking Orgrimmar is to exploit its multiple points of entry. I led the city's defenses for years, and know its vulnerabilities better than anyone. We are spread thin as it is, but we must also fortify Thunder Bluff in case Sylvanas plans to assault it while our forces are committed here."

Anduin turned toward the Worgen. "Genn, we need you and your best soldiers to flank the city from the western gate."

Genn gave the orcs a suspicious look. "And leave you here, unguarded? With them?"

The remark made Saurfang scoff. "If I wanted to harm him, I'd have done it in Lordaeron or when I left the Stockades."

Anduin was eager to appease Genn. "No one knows Orgrimmar's defenses better than Saurfang. We need to trust each other if we are to succeed."

Genn didn't sound convinced. "... Very well. But the Banshee is clever. Dividing our forces might play right into her hands."

Anduin shook his head. "It's the only chance we have. Your forces attack from the Northern Barrens, and Mathias Shaw and his men will accompany you. Shandris Feathermoon and Lor'themar Theron lead their forces from Azshara, and I, Thrall, and Saurfang will attack from Durotar. Mayla Highmountain will protect Thunder Bluff and Baine in case of a counterattack. The orders are already deployed."

Genn listened to Anduin, seemingly not being content with the outcome, but he complied and left in search of Shaw.

It was only the three of them now, giving the young king the chance to add something else while he turned to the two orcs. "I must insist to go first, Saurfang. Thrall can follow me and you'll be the last. You have to advise the ones arriving here late, just in case." Anduin was determined to lead the battle.

Varok shook his head. "Anduin—"

"I want to stop her." The young king raised his hands to hold the two men back from whatever they were about to say. "I don't want to shed any more blood than necessary. When Sylvanas sees me first, she will mostly blame me. I am the High King of the Alliance, her sworn enemy, embodying everything she hates. I am a follower of her personal nemesis. Not you."

"I'm not certain that—"

"But I am," Anduin interrupted. "That's why I'll be the one standing in front of us." It was the strong tone in which he spoke that made the orcs hesitate to say something more. He was very resolute. "It was a great honor to get to know you, High Overlord Varok Saurfang. As well as you, Thrall, son of Durotan. Good luck to all of us," he bowed and left the hut first.

Stepping outside, the unbearable heat made him stop for a moment, taking a deep breath. He glistened with sweat. He was heartbroken. And yet, there was no way out. Slowly, shouting out to every unit he passed, no matter Horde or Alliance, and getting as an answer: 'For Azeroth!', he walked to the front with the aching knowledge that he would meet Sylvanas right away. Not in his arms but with weapons.

Then, it happened all too fast. In passing, a Horde siege tower where Tauren Earthshaker and Darkspear Hunters joined the rebellion, too, Anduin saw himself confronted with a skirmish going on. Saboteurs? Not thinking further, he stormed toward them, the Light already collecting in his hands. Yet for a tiny moment, he wished to have Areiel by his side. He told her to stay with his soldiers and mentioned that he only was going to the last tactic meeting. He could've used her experience now!

The same moment, some Mag'har Orcs were seen, who sallied out on the left and the right side of the united rebellion's line-up. Anduin was without protection and left to his own devices when all hell broke loose.

ON THE RAMPART

Sylvanas went through a kaleidoscope of emotions while she incessantly observed what happened in front of the Gates of Orgrimmar. She saw Anduin nodding, shouting out to every unit he passed, talking, smiling —painfully?— yet he was every inch a King who went into what was likely his last battle the way he encouraged those around him. Walking alone and upright, Shalamayne in his hand.

One part of her mocked him. Poor boy-king. They left him all alone at the forefront. Why did puppy decide not to fight at his side this morning, but chose the side flank? Why did the orcs? Did it mean there had been a dispute between them? A cruel smile played around her lips, even though the other part of her was furious. So far, the young king had not sent one look her way. As if he was avoiding her. Why? Did all the time he spent with her mean nothing, in the end?

Well, she would force him to look into her eyes. In a fit of hatred, she imagined how her arrow would pierce his heart. How she would reanimate him, after. Oh yes, he would have regrets, she would make sure of it. He made his choice. She would make him follow her forever! But never coming close again. That was her revenge. Just like Nathanos—

That was the moment the feelings in her came out on top. How she had wanted to keep the intimate bond with Nathanos, and how being undead reversed all her hopes. The very vivid memory of Vol'dun with Anduin shot through her, too. When he yanked her from her brooding and showed her what was still in her heart, what she believed to be dead and over, and suddenly there was so much hurt—

There was another stab through her heart when she saw Vereesa —she was here, too? Her little moon?— running over to Alleria and hugging her. Both her sisters at the forefront! She wanted to run over to them and throw herself into their arms as well. Yet, she couldn't, anymore. She was the outcast. Frozen to the wooden planks, she stared. Jealousy and pain streamed through her with such ferocity, she trembled and was shocked about herself.

Another moment of her past was present, a moment where she swore to herself to protect her people, always. The vision of a battlefield projected in front of her eyes, flowers, a mother with a child. Silvermoon. Arthas. Sylvanas battled herself through it when her eyes, wildly glowing, started to search for him. Where was he, that young blond boy-king she missed seducing, who she longed to have his length inside of her, to satisfy her cravings, to make her feel alive? How she pined for him, for nights, for days, to meet him, to have another battle of words with him, and to address this living side in her he ignited in Vol'dun! With him, she wasn't the cold Banshee Queen anymore, as much as a part in her might wish for it!

She quickly skimmed through the Stormwind Knights, only to notice a strange stature among them with a bow and a quiver. It took a moment before she recognized Areiel, her former Ranger Captain, who —now dressed with a ridiculous tabard of the Alliance, and wasn't it Anduin's own?— seemed to call the shots just when she set her eyes upon her. Shouldn't that be her place? Beside the little lion? Not against him? The painful emotions were the last straw and threatened to bring her to fall.

Where was Anduin now? Areiel ran around, obviously searching for him, and then she not only discovered some skirmishes unfold between the neat order of the united rebellion's line-ups, but she also watched some of Overlord Geya'rah's Orcs sally out. Who had given the order for this? Nathanos? Geya'rah herself? Cursing the whole world that conspired against her, she grabbed for her bow and arrow, hatred and rage consuming her in an instant and shouted some commands.

AT THE TALON GATE OF ORGRIMMAR

To say that Nathanos Blightcaller wasn't pleased was an understatement. No. He was furious. His queen just ordered him to leave Orgrimmar, telling him where he would meet her again. Now? It wasn't in his nature to leave when the situation might have dire consequences! When he was needed! But remaining as loyal as ever, he found himself compelled to submit to her wishes.

What went not according to his plan was, watching those SI:7 men, accompanied by some High Overlord Raiders and, what was worse, Genn Greymane and his Worgen, waiting in front of the Talon Gate, his secret exit. They must have come from the Northern Barrens to Orgrimmar's west gate, Nathanos assumed, knowing it was a weak spot in Orgrimmar's complex infrastructure, leading to the Valley of Spirits, a long-standing seat of the Darkspear trolls. Since his queen had locked down the whole capital city, the gate was closed.

This was why the soldiers brought an Azerite war machine with a battering ram with them, a Doom's Howl, possibly wanting to thunder against the gate. Nathanos stood on the platform of one of the two towers and observed the circumstances. Damn it! He just wanted to leave and saw himself confronted with many more problems than expected. Did he have to jump into the pool of water in front of the Talon Gate? Not his favorite strategy but there seemed to be no other possibility.

Then he recognized the Alliance's spymaster, Mathias Shaw, speaking to the soldiers. Shaw was here? The Dark Lady's champion wondered about it. However, he wondered about a lot, lately.

Since he knew about Sylvanas having met someone else —and being out of balance for a while because of it— which still left him in murky waters because he had never gotten a clear answer from her of how deeply involved she had been, his dysfunctional thoughts started to appreciate the moment with Shaw in Boralus more than he wanted to admit.

That there was someone else who wasn't content with what his position forced him to do and had to operate on so many levels as well, had somehow helped him to get through Nazjatar and all the other tasks his queen sent him on. Who would have thought another human took him seriously? Sylvanas had positioned him between prejudiced elven comrades because she believed in him, even though he was a farmer's son who didn't have many talents other than to shoot a bow. People looking down on him was something he had gotten used to, not only from the elves but humans, too. For loving an undead elf, for following her path unconditionally because she had always been loyal to him in life and undeath. So Shaw's understanding reaction in Kul Tiras had been a surprise.

They remained where they were, waiting, when Shaw walked a short distance away and took place on a stone close to the pool of water a bit aside from the rest. Nathanos recognized his chance and elegantly dived into the water.

Thus, when the spymaster scooped some of the water into his hands, the same moment a pale face popping up from the clear water watched him.

"Blightcaller." Shaw's eyes widened, apparently not having expected him there. They stared at each other for a short moment and Nathanos was well aware that just a whistle from the spymaster was enough to alert the entire group close to them, to take him prisoner. Yet, for the first time, he was inclined to put some faith in the human above him as the other one had done in Boralus. His effort was not in vain.

Shaw scooped more water, murmuring in a low tone: "What are you doing here?"

"Plan B."

He saw that the spymaster realized something had gone wrong. Shaw hesitated before he whispered, "I found out about the arrow."

Nathanos, stunned by the spymaster's honesty, waited patiently, focusing on him while he quietly remained in the pool of water. A pair of intelligent green eyes looked back at the undead human, not judging, only curious. It hit Nathanos unprepared. Should he have found something like a comrade among the enemy?

"It was a present," Shaw mentioned in a low voice while he pretended to refresh himself with water. "Not from the Defias. Neither from Stormwind Nobles."

The Dark Lady's champion froze. Did Shaw give him a direct answer?

"It was from King Wrynn himself."

Unfortunately, at the same moment, noises and movements made the spymaster turn around. Moving over, so his body shielded the undead human in the water, he murmured, "You should go. It's not safe here anymore."

Always, always he had a snide reply on his tongue, but this time, Nathanos was ringing for his composure. "I won't forget it, Shaw," he rapped out before he vanished.

Expecting a sarcastic remark from the known sharp tongue, Mathias was stunned that he got an almost warm answer from the undead human. Besides, he would never forget the look Nathanos sent him some moments before. It was more human than he had ever seen on a Forsaken's face. Was there still humanity in him? Even if it mostly referred to the Banshee Queen? Perhaps love was something … that went beyond all understanding.

Did he forego his loyalty to his king by telling the Blightcaller who bought the arrow? As strange as it was, he felt he owed the undead human honesty, which tipped the scales toward his decision.

The young king was on his mind again, and things they talked about. It was his duty to get information on everyone, yet, asking himself questions about his enemy and querying results was unfamiliar to him. What he did here wasn't politically correct. Similar to what his young king did? What it meant to give a second chance to someone—who still might belong to his race, anyway—and what it meant to talk rather than act hostile?

Mathias scratched his head. When he looked back in the clear water, he wondered how powerful they could be if they started to fight together instead of against each other.