Into the Light

12 | THE BATTLE BEGINS

"Tyrande. Wake up."

A scream, male this time, pierced Tyrande's nightmare. She opened her eyes, slow. She had stopped falling. Still encased within the sphere, she turned. Illidan hung suspended outside of it, doubled over, groaning. In the distance a huge tether whipped away, bloody.

She floated over to him, and pressed her hands against the sphere. He bled from every part of his body. He was filled with holes, huge pieces of him were missing. Most of his heart was gone. She shuddered. "Illidan . . . "

He groaned, clutching his torso. "The Light--give it to me. I will not survive the next assault."

Tyrande didn't know what to do. She was locked inside a sphere, a prisoner to Elune's Light. How could she channel the Light through an impenetrable wall? She called out to Elune for her aid. Silence greeted her. She called again louder.

"Gul'dan comes again!" Illidan panted. "Hurry!"

She could see the tether, thrashing its way across the Void, malevolent, dark, twisted. She could sense the evil in it. It hurtled towards Illidan. He cried out, retreating, helpless. A jolt. Elune had returned. Tyrande screamed, desperate, frantic. The tether was almost upon them.

"Tell me what I must do!"

"Do not let the tether reach Illidan," Elune answered, as though from far away.

Tyrande threw herself in the tether's path. It slammed into the sphere. A flash of foul green slid over the sphere's surface. Tyrande tasted metal, and a spasm of pain washed over her. She grunted, and hit the opposite side of the sphere, hard.

"Quick, while there is time, before the next one arrives," Elune said, her voice growing stronger. "Illidan must make contact with me."

Tyrande hastened to push the sphere closer to Illidan. He half swam, half crawled to her, reaching out, his hand trembling. Tyrande recoiled. His fingertips glowed with fel energy. He touched the sphere. Tyrande felt a surge flow through her, more powerful than even what she experienced at the Altar. She braced herself against the sides of the sphere, screaming as Elune's Light burned though her into Illidan. When it was over, she sagged against the sides, shuddering, weak. Elune's voice cut through the tatters of her mind, sharp, commanding.

"Another tendril comes, deflect it."

Tyrande shoved the tears from her eyes, and spun around searching for the thing. There. She hurtled into it, roaring with pain and fear. Another flash of green, another slam against the sphere. She turned and found Illidan. He reached out to her, quaking. She stared, incredulous. After all the Light she had transferred to him, he had barely healed.

"More," he gasped. "I need more."

She went to him, and began the transfer again, her gown caught on fire, another replaced it, it too burned, turning to ash in the scorching Light. Another tether came. She took its blow, screaming as the fel washed over her. Dirty, then clean, until she didn't know what she was real any more. Over and over the dance of light and dark continued. Tyrande fought on, for Azeroth, for Illidan, for Malfurion, and now, for Elune.

No matter the cost, Sargeras would not have her. Tyrande threw her head back as another course of Light pounded through her, her hair turning to flames of blue fire. She laughed, drunk with terror as she destroyed another tether, welcoming the pain of the Darkness within her prison of Light. Soon it became all she knew. All she lived for. It was a game, and one she would not lose.