"Your arrival is most timely," the archmage said, stepping forward to shake the dwarf's hand and permitting his own to be enthusiastically pumped up and down. "We've a message to be delivered, and quickly."
"Aye? As long as ye promise me an' me boys we'll get a crack at those greenskins, we'll take a message for ye." He waved at some of the other Wildhammers, who hastened forward and stood at attention.
"We'll need to dispatch several messages to the various leaders," Turalyon said, the grin fading. Khadgar wondered if Turalyon really knew just how no-nonsense he could look when he had to. "Tell them this: The orcs are retreating to Draenor, but they have found a means to open new portals to other worlds."
The dwarves' eyes widened, but they didn't interrupt. "They are taking with them cartloads of something they obviously value, we do not yet know what," Turalyon continued. "We intend to pursue them through the Dark Portal, and stop them from opening those portals. By any and all means necessary."
"Are ye sure, lad?" asked Kurdran quietly. Turalyon nodded. Everyone stood silently for a moment, knowing that Turalyon spoke what had to be done, but even so rendered mute at the reality
"Now hurry," Turalyon said. "Make that gryphon earn her dinner." The scouts nodded, saluted, mounted their gryphons, and took to the skies. Turalyon turned to his friends.
"And now," he said somberly, "we prepare to leave our world behind."'
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The rest of that day and evening was crammed with chaotic planning. Who should go? Who should stay behind? What provisions should they take? How long should they wait? Debates went from discussion to argument to even shouting, and at one point Turalyon thought Alleria and Kurdran might come to blows over how best to utilize the gryphons. Finally a plan was drafted that all could be satisfied with. Some, including Alleria, wanted to head out right then. "My rangers can see as well or better than the orcs at night," she pointed out, "and even you humans have the moonlight."
"No," Turalyon had said, putting his foot down. "We don't all have your vision, Alleria. And we're exhausted. The orcs would definitely have the advantage at night. You'll notice they're not attacking right now."
Her eyes had narrowed. "No, they're probably resting up so they can be fresh in the morning to have at us then."
Turalyon let her words hang there for a moment. Once she realized she'd made his arguments for him, she scowled, but stayed silent.
"Turalyon's right," Khadgar said. "We're exhausted. Dead on our feet. The purpose here isn't to kill as many orcs as possible and go down shouting battle cries, it's to get to the other side with as many as we can so we can stop something bigger than the handful that's at the gates right now."
Turalyon suspected the comment wasn't particularly directed at Alleria, but it struck home nonetheless. She'd turned first red, then white as a sheet, and stalked from the room. Turalyon automatically moved to follow, but Khadgar's hand closed on his arm.
"Let her go," he said quietly. "Talking to her now will just make things worse. She's as exhausted as the rest of us right now and isn't thinking clearly at the best of times. Let her come to you."
Let her come to you. Turalyon wondered, as always, how much the young-old mage knew, and if the phrase had been calculated or casual.
"Verana, a moment," said Alleria as she and her second-in-command left the meeting room for their assigned barracks. She indicated that the other elf follow her outside onto the walkway, underneath the moon and the stars. Wordlessly, Verana obeyed. There had never been any question but that Alleria would be among those going through the portal at dawn tomorrow. Verana and a few others would remain behind, to aid the Sons of Lothar in case something went wrong. Verana turned inquiringly to her commander.
"I have a special task for you. One that goes beyond your military duties," Alleria began. "It is not maudlin to think that I might not return. That none of us might. We do not know what we face on the other side."
Verana looked troubled; they had been friends for decades. But she nodded. "Of course."
"If I do not come back… do not come home… bear a message for me to my family. Tell them I took the fight to the orcs' own world, to avenge Quel'Thalas and to keep our people safe from future attacks." She thought of Turalyon's impassioned, implacable words — that they could not release the horror that was the Horde on other, innocent people. A lump suddenly swelled in her throat. "Tell them," she continued, her voice rough, "tell them I went to try to save other worlds as well. Others who will, I pray, never know the pain of what we underwent. Tell them I chose to do this of my own free will, and that whatever happens to me … my heart is with them."
She fumbled in a pouch and emerged with three small necklaces. Each was graced with a glowing, beautiful gem: an emerald, a ruby, and a sapphire. Verana gasped and looked up, clearly recognizing the stones.
"Yes. They're from the necklace my parents gave me,"
Alleria confirmed. "I had the necklace melted down in Stormwind, and three lockets made from it. I will keep this one." She selected the emerald and fastened it about her throat. "I wanted to give the other two to Vereesa and Sylvanas when I—" She bit her lower lip. "Please. Take these home with you, when you are able to return. Give them to my sisters. Tell them this way, no matter what happens… we'll always be together."
Verana's eyes shone with tears that slipped down her cheeks. Alleria envied her the ability to weep. The other ranger studied the inscriptions, which Alleria knew by heart: To Sylvanas. Love always, Alleria. To Vereesa. With love, Alleria.
"You will return, my lady, and give these to your sisters yourself. But for now I will keep them safe until you do. This I swear."
Verana hugged her tightly, and Alleria stiffened. She had not allowed anyone to touch her in other than a perfunctory manner since —
Alleria let her arms go around her friend and hugged Verana back for a long moment, then dismissed her. Verana saluted, wiped her face, and hurried back to their barracks. Alleria lingered, letting the fresh air calm her. An ear twitched as she heard soft steps. Quickly she faded into the shadows, frowning to herself as she recognized Turalyon. He walked to the wall and leaned against it, his broad shoulders bowed in the moonlight. Her sharp ears heard her name whispered; her sharp eyes caught a glitter of tears. She turned and vanished, moving silently the way she had come. The talk with Verana had unnerved her sufficiently. To speak with Turalyon now could undo everything she had worked so hard to create over the last two years. She would not risk it.
The general of the Alliance forces stood alone in the moonlight. Despite his advice to his troops, he had found himself unable to sleep. Khadgar’s words and Alleria's expression had haunted him, and his mind went back, as it had countless times before over the last two years, to the night when his whole world had changed.
He barely heard the soft whisper above the pounding of the rain on the field tent, and at first Turalyon thought it was merely wishful thinking when he heard Alleria's voice whisper, "Turalyon?"
He lifted his head and in the dim orange glow of the brazier saw her standing just inside the tent. "Alleria! By the Light, you're drenched!"