23 | HOPE'S END

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Uneasy, Khadgar followed the Eredar. He looked back just as the wall closed over again. The Eredar pressed on, focussed on its task. The tunnel descended deeper into the ground for several minutes, then began to make a steep incline. Khadgar followed the demon up a long flight of steps carved from the living stone. The stairs ended at another dead end. The Eredar muttered another incantation and the wall vanished. Not wishing to be left behind Khadgar hastened after him into the ruins of a collapsed Nightborne temple, which appeared to have fallen into an underground cavern. High above, in between the cavern's broken ceiling, Khadgar glimpsed a slice of sky, marred by the roiling of fel energy emanating from the spires of the Tomb of Sargeras.

Cries of terror rose up from the Nightborne bound together in chains of fel. Khadgar stared across the vast space, incredulous. There were hundreds of them. How many had he seen die already? Before he had sped up time, three hundred, at least. He shook his head, his hands clenching into fists. How he longed to intervene, and help these innocents, but, he reminded himself, grim: This is the past, these people are already long dead.

The Eredar went to the nearest group of Nightborne who scuttled away, crying out in desperation, pleading not to be taken. Fel energy crackled from the Eredar's hands, and bindings wrapped around their necks, linking them together, forcing them to follow him. Impervious to their desolation, the demon led them into the tunnel, the wall sealing over behind them. His time drawing short, Khadgar hastened through the cavern searching for a way out. There, in the shadows, a tunnel opening. He moved into it and crept alongside a river of fel lava, the tunnel's walls glowing a lurid green. He followed several twists and turns before the tunnel finally gave way to open sky.

Khadgar found himself on the beach of a wide bay, surrounded by high rock walls. A small contingent of demons--lesser ones by the look of them--herded Nightborne captives into groups. A little girl, holding a grimy stuffed toy murloc, panicked and ran, trying to get away. The nearest demon glanced up, and flicked its hand at her. A bolt of fire flew from its clawed fingers. One moment she was there, running, her eyes wide and fearful, clutching her toy against her chest; the next, she was gone, vaporised. Fresh screams rose up from the prisoners, but the demons ignored them. Anger seared into Khadgar, hot and dangerous. He fought it. He could change nothing. She was already long gone. They all were.

He crossed the bay to a sandy beach. Pleasure ships of the nobility clustered in the shallow harbour, offloading their cargo of Nightborne citizens. He stared, sickened, as the Royal Guard of Suramar pushed their own people into the waters of the inlet, laughing, cruel, at their pleas for help.

Another wave of anger threatened to undo him. He fought it. He could not allow his emotions to rule him while using the font, it was too dangerous. He forced himself to focus on getting his bearings. He looked up, in the distance across breadth of the Broken Shore, to his left, Dalaran's floating city beckoned, its spires shining in the clean light of the sun. Just in front of him the blackened, fel-laced Tomb of Sargeras loomed. If the Shore was between him and Dalaran, that put him to the east of the Tomb. Well there was only one place that lay to its east-the small island called Hope's End. His thoughts skidded to a halt. Wasn't this where Tirion was supposed to be held?

Khadgar touched his watch. He had fifteen minutes left, enough time to do a quick search before he retraced his steps back into the Chamber of the Eye. He hurried back from the crowded shoreline and climbed up onto a rock shelf, where he could get a better view. He scanned the bay, his eyes narrowed, as he fast forwarded through time. The boats coming and going lessened, and the numbers of Nightborne captives fell to a trickle. The beach emptied. There. What was that? He stepped back into time and approached a vast runic circle set in the centre of the bay. In its centre stood a large fel crystal. There was something within it. Khadgar moved closer. He gaped. Tirion? It couldn't be. The person trapped inside, immobile was Tirion. The Knights of the Silver Hand had been right after all.

Tirion opened his eyes, and looked right at Khadgar. Unsettled, Khadgar moved to the side, assuming the Highlord was looking through Khadgar at something behind him. Tirion's eyes followed him. A chill rose up within Khadgar. Somehow, impossibly, the Highlord could see him. Tirion's voice, filled with pain, entered Khadgar's mind,.

Khadgar. The Light will go on, even once she is gone.

Khadgar blinked, astonished. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but Tirion's eyes dulled and closed. Khadgar shook his head, disheartened. He had no idea what Tirion was talking about. Who was the 'she' he was referring to? Tyrande?

Seven minutes left. Khadgar backed away from Tirion, filled with regret. He longed to stay with him until the end, but Tirion's words made Khadgar nervous, filling him with urgency to continue his investigation. He hastened back into the tunnel to the cavern containing the collapsed temple. He reversed time until an Eredar opened the way, and followed it back into the Chamber. He had four minutes left. He sped time up again. A flash of light filled his vision. He entered time once more. Tyrande hung, inert, in front of the creature that was once Illidan. Brilliant orange tendrils, glowing like fire, held her place before him. She wore a fantastic gown, made of the creature's light, which shifted and changed, presumably driven by the creature's thoughts. The creature--itself spread-eagled and bound with fel tethers--stroked her face with tendrils of its energy drifting from its chest.

Khadgar had no idea what he was looking at, was the thing still Illidan, or was it part Illidan, part Sargeras? His fingers on his watch, aware of his own dwindling time, he watched the nascent avatar, waiting for its transformation. He needed to know how much time Azeroth had left before Sargeras's avatar was complete. Despite tens of dozens of green tethers flashing in and out of him, nothing happened. Wait. No. Dread clawing at him, Khadgar slowed time and changed position so he faced Tyrande. By the Light. The tethers were not going into Illidan but Tyrande. He watched horrified, as her transformation proceeded. Slow at first, it gained momentum until she was almost unrecognisable. He backed away. The creature before him was beautiful and terrible. A goddess transformed into a demon.

He understood now. Tyrande was being made into Sargeras's consort-and Tyrande was bound to Elune. Horror filled Khadgar as the implication of what Sargeras intended unfolded. The 'she' Tirion had spoken of wasn't Tyrande, it was Elune. Sargeras was draining Elune's Light through her connection to Tyrande in the Nether. The Dark Titan had captured a goddess, and was draining her Light. Sickened, Khadgar stumbled away from the pair. It was too much, how could he, a mere mortal, stop this, if a goddess could not defend herself against Sargeras, how could Khadgar defend Azeroth? Despair welled up within him. He needed more time.

He felt the pull of the font, dragging him back. He sped time up, as fast as he dared. He had to know before he returned how much time he had left before all hope was gone. Tyrande's transformation completed. Illidan followed after, morphing into a dreadlord. The tethers fell away, and together the pair stepped through a massive portal onto the Broken Shore. The last thing Khadgar saw was Dalaran, consumed by flames, falling from the sky.

The Chamber disappeared. Grey silence followed. A heartbeat later he rose up out of the font. He stepped out onto the top step, the silver liquid sliding away, pooling back into the basin. He returned to his body. His hands trembling, he cast a spell, opened the sealed door and swept out of the room back to the library. He was glad he had an hour to spare, he would need the time to do some research before meeting the Council.

They had a month. No more. After that, Azeroth would fall.

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