World of Warcraft: Wolfheart by Richard A. Knaak

Author:Richard A. Knaak
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery Books
Published: 2011-04-12T16:00:00+00:00

16

A MESSENGER’S RESOLVE

Malfurion rushed back to the temple, his sense of failure with Varian compounded by the knowledge that the Sentinel who had spoken with Tyrande at the summit—subsequently drawing the high priestess away—no doubt had news of some other disaster. He suspected that it might concern the Highborne, but prepared himself for anything at this point.

To his surprise, it was not one of the priestesses who greeted him but rather one of his own. The anxious druid bowed low as Malfurion approached.

“Parsis!” The other druid was skilled, capable of shifting to storm crow form, and, given a bit more seasoning, could someday become an archdruid of high standing. Naturally, Malfurion never quite mentioned this future he saw to the younger druid himself. “You were assigned to Ashenvale! Why are you here?”

“It is not for me to answer that, Shan’do,” Parsis respectfully responded, the younger druid clearly exhausted. “There is another who has more than earned that right.”

Malfurion did not question him further. Parsis led him to the area where but recently Shalasyr’s body had lain shortly after Jarod had brought it to Darnassus.

He heard voices within, the voices of priestesses at prayer. The archdruid glanced at Parsis and saw the younger night elf look disturbed. Something had changed for the worse since he had left this place.

As they stepped inside, Tyrande turned from where she had been leading four other senior priestesses in the prayer. The light of Elune shone down upon not only her and the priestesses but also a figure lying on the platform between them.

It was a Sentinel. Malfurion did not recognize her. Her violet skin had paled considerably, not a good sign.

In silence, he joined his mate. Tyrande leaned close and whispered, “Her name is Aradria Cloudflyer. She is a courier from Ashenvale.”

“A wounded courier?” Malfurion did not like the direction this was taking.

The high priestess started to continue, but the Sentinel suddenly moaned. Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed up at the pair, eventually fixing on Malfurion.

“Arch—Archdruid . . . you know, then . . .”

She fought to shift so she could face him better, and in doing so revealed a long, wicked scar running across her upper torso. Based on what Malfurion could see of it, it was a wonder that she was still alive. Other, smaller scars decorated what he could see of her body, but the huge one was clearly what had done the worst to her.

“The irony is, her own glaive did it,” Parsis muttered in his other ear. “She fell upon it during a struggle with several orcs. She had slain at least two before that happened.”

“What was she doing in orc territory? And why bring her here?”

“She was not in orc territory. She was well on her way here with an urgent missive from Commander Haldrissa.”

The archdruid looked to Tyrande for verification of the dread news. She sadly nodded.

“They—they snuck behind the lines . . . ,” Aradria rasped, evidently hearing well despite her condition.

“You must rest,” the high priestess advised her.

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