Illidan

29

Maiev inspected the immense walls of the Black Temple. The fortress loomed over them, radiating terrible strength. Huge stone spikes emerged from the walls like blades thrusting at the sky.

Akama looked upon the structure as one dying of thirst in the desert might gaze upon a fountain of sparkling water. Hope and desperation warred in his eyes. He completely ignored the sights and sounds of the battle going on nearby. He had eyes only for the holy place itself.

Maiev could not ignore the war raging all around her. Already the combined forces of the Aldor and the Scryers had begun the assault that would provide cover for Akama’s attempt to infiltrate the Black Temple.

Bitterness ate at her heart as the naaru Xi’ri wove spells of protection around her, Akama, and his new allies from Azeroth. The Sha’tar had not consented to aid her when she had gone after Illidan. Things might have turned out differently on the Hand of Gul’dan if they had. Her companions might still be alive.

Maiev glanced at the Azerothian adventurers. She sensed their power and their nervousness. They had been secretly aiding Akama for weeks, acting as his agents to perform missions he could not. Now they were preparing to strike at Illidan himself. The prospect of infiltrating the Black Temple excited and scared them. Maiev herself could barely wait for the naaru to finish weaving its spells. The hour of her vengeance was almost at hand. This time the Betrayer would not escape.

Nearby she sensed the terrible presence of demons. Their brimstone scent filled the air, along with the stink of burning flesh and opened entrails. Something in it stirred her to the core. This was the scent of a battle worth fighting in, a war for the fate of worlds.

She shaded her eyes and watched a company of Aldor rush by the glittering form of a naaru on their way to engage a force of batwinged demons. Spells blazed through the air; enchanted weapons bit home. The Illidari were pushed back. Spectators jeered from the walls of the Black Temple.

Overhead, huge nether drakes circled. A wing of them hurtled in, breathing clouds of devastating arcane magic. She stood on the open ground and defied them to hurt her. In her armor, she was all but invulnerable to their attacks. She felt the naaru’s power complete its weave around her, setting the air to shimmer.

The earth shook as another wave of meteorites smashed home and another wave of infernals clambered from the craters they made. Dust devils arose over the site of the battle. A troop of riders charged past to enter the fray.

Akama gestured to her. “Now is the time, Maiev! Unleash your wrath!”

Maiev smiled as she raced forward. Behind her rushed Akama and his Azerothian allies and a strong force of Aldor and Scryers. Ahead she could see the seething mass of demons that filled the killing fields before the walls of the temple. Satyrs, felguard, and worse things charged to meet her. Exultant, she shouted, “I’ve waited for this moment for years. Illidan and his lapdogs will be destroyed!”

Ahead winged dreadlords emerged from the murk of battle. They towered above her, filled with fel power. She aimed her umbra crescent at the nearest and slashed through his flesh, cleaving off part of a wing and then a leg. The demon crashed to the ground, and she leapt upon his back and drove her blade so far through his spine that the point was buried in the earth.

As the demon’s life ebbed away, she pulled her weapon clear and blinked herself behind another, calling on Elune to aid her as she smote the creature.

The air crackled with magical energy as Akama and his other allies unleashed a torrent of spells. The dreadlords and their lesser demons fell before the savage onslaught, but more and more entered the fray. Fel magic pulsed in the air as a portal opened nearby. A huge nathrezim emerged from it. She recognized his massive crimson form. It was Vagath, one of the worst of the jailors Illidan had set for her. She remembered all his promises of torment. Somehow he had escaped the slaughter at her prison. She would ensure that he did not get away this time.

Akama bellowed, “Slay all who see us! Word must not get back to Illidan.”

Maiev sprang forward, lashing out at the nathrezim. They exchanged blows. Vagath was strong but Maiev was stronger. She drove her blade through the heavy armor encasing the dreadlord’s chest. “Meet your end, demon!”

Vagath looked down in disbelief. Akama limped over to Maiev’s side. Vagath fixed his gaze on the Ashtongue leader and, with his dying breath, said, “You’ve sealed your fate, Akama. The master will learn of your betrayal!”

Akama shook his head. “Akama has no master, not anymore.”

As the words left his mouth the portal pulsed once more. A tidal wave of demons surged forth. The sight of them filled Maiev with terrible wrath. She threw herself among them, striking left and right, cleaving through them like the prow of a ship through the waves of a bloody sea.

The enemy closed in all around her, seeking to drag her down into their midst. Felsteel axes glanced off her armor. Demonic claws bit into her chest plate. She unleashed the full fury of her blade, knowing she needed to close the portal through which the demons poured or her mission would fail before it began.

Behind her she thought she heard Akama give the order to enter the Black Temple. It seemed she was going to have to close the portal alone.

Vandel looked out through the murder hole deep within the walls of the Black Temple. He took a sip of the ethermead he had acquired from the blood elf revelers on the Grand Promenade. It tingled pleasantly on his tongue.

Another massive battle had erupted outside the gates. Glancing down, he saw a force of Scryers and Aldor charge into combat with the guardian demons.

Huge clouds of dust rose, obscuring the conflict. He caught glimpses of the battle through them. A blood elf warrior fell to a satyr. An Aldor priest blasted a felguard with the blinding power of the Light. There was something oddly thrilling about watching the fight, like having an arena seat for the end of the world.

He saw that the servants of the naaru appeared to be aiding a group of Broken—and could that be…Akama?

Rumor claimed that the old Broken had vanished, that he had gone over to the other side and was even now out there plotting the Black Temple’s downfall with the leaders of the Aldor and the Scryers. It appeared that rumor was correct.

Small dribbles of rage erupted from the demon inside Vandel. Flickering memories of battles and kills came to him. He suppressed them easily enough.

Some anger remained when he watched the attacking forces gather. The fools. Did they not realize what was going on here? They thought they had come to attack the demon ruler of Outland. They had no clue.

Ah, but it was an easy enough mistake to make. Looking down at the bound demons defending the temple, Vandel could see how the invaders could think like that. Illidan had never taken any time to explain his purpose to anyone outside his immediate circle.

Not that it would have mattered. Most likely no one would have believed him if he had. They would simply have thought it was part of some cunning scheme. Perhaps it was. Even now, after all Vandel had seen, all he had done, and all he had been through, he was not sure of that.

Who really knew what went on in the Betrayer’s mind? He took another sip of the ethermead and watched the pyrotechnic blast of spells claw away at the wards on the walls. How long would it be until the demon hunters were called upon to fight?

Akama led his small force toward the walls of the Temple of Karabor. In the distance Maiev battled to close the demonic portal. He prayed she was successful, at least for as long as it would take for him and his companions to enter the temple.

All around, demons made war with servants of the Light. Behind him, he sensed the heartbreaking presence of the naaru. It reminded him of all he had turned his back on when he had entered the Betrayer’s service, all he had lost and hoped to regain.

He looked at the eager faces of his allies from Azeroth, the trusting expressions of his Broken bodyguards. He inspected the hollow places within himself where once fragments of his soul had been. He had not felt whole for so long. He would rather die than continue this way.

Which was good, because that was exactly what would happen if things went wrong. In fact, that would be the best thing that would happen.

Still, these last few moons the lord of Outland had been distracted, caught up in his mad, grandiose plan. If plan it was. Even now, Akama was not sure whether the Betrayer was serious about opening a gateway to Argus, or whether it was all part of some great deception. Since Illidan had used the capture of Maiev to conceal the opening of the gateway to Nathreza, Akama was not inclined to take anything he said on faith. Akama remembered all the Broken and draenei slain in the opening of that gateway, their souls consumed, and all the draenei souls that met the same fate in Auchindoun. He would allow no chance for Illidan to repeat those abominations.

Felsteel bars and wards protected the sewer outflow. Those were the least of the defenses. Far worse lay beyond. Akama wove the spell that would open the way, and stepped through.

Ahead lay the sewers of the Black Temple. The path led up through a long rocky defile and then emerged into a chamber full of elementals and naga. Somewhere in the distance, he heard the naga champion High Warlord Naj’entus’s roar.

He hoped his people were ready.

As his spirit hovered over the pattern, Illidan became aware of a banging on the door of the sanctum and a female voice screaming for his attention. They were audible through the ears of his body, which lay beneath him. He let his spirit drop back into his flesh and surveyed his surroundings. He spoke the words of opening, and the seal on the entrance was removed.

Lady Malande stood before him, looking at the vast shape of the pattern with something like wonder in her eyes. “Lord Illidan,” she said. “An enemy force is within the gates. High Warlord Naj’entus has fallen at the entrance to the sewers. The enemy is on the move.”

It took Illidan a few moments to register her words. Naj’entus had been set along with a small army to watch over the sealed entrance to the sewers. Illidan had sent reinforcements. The naga champion and his forces should have been able to fend off a legion. Something had gone very badly wrong. Treachery. The temple had been betrayed from within. Perhaps it was the blood elves or Akama’s people.

It looked as if time had run out. Illidan picked up the Skull of Gul’dan. Its smile mocked him once more. There was only one thing left to do. He would need the power of the soul siphon. There was still a use he could put it to.