Chapter Text
Screams echoed through the darkness.
Some voices were hoarse with bloodlust, bursting forth from monstrous throats. These were answered by the cries of mortals: fearful or furious, sometimes both at once. The cries reverberated off the rocky walls of the vast underground chambers, becoming more distorted with each echo. Cascades of dust fell onto the figures crowded below as great rumbles shook the stone walls. Stony owl statues guarded the halls of the compound, the only figures not at all disturbed by the commotion around them.
The sounds of battle also echoed through the dim hallways as the owners of the voices fought. Demons of every shape and kind thronged the place: bat-like creatures, fel hounds, hulking demons wielding massive axes, sayaad with their cruel whips, and more. They clashed with mortal figures clad in silver and green armor, their helms made in facsimile of the glowering owl statues. These figures were all female, wielding triple-bladed glaives and circular, serrated umbra crescents: the Watchers. They fought in groups when they could, back to back to protect each other against the swarm of demons. Not all the Watchers were so fortunate, however; silver-clad corpses gleamed even in the dim light of the hallways. They were covered in the fluorescent green blood of the monsters they had fought, but more demons stampeded over their lifeless bodies. The number of fel monsters seemed endless.
“The Legion has broken the seal! Quickly, sisters! Defend the Vault!” A Watcher shouted to her companion, and the pair rushed out from a dark chamber that housed several large, green crystals. A lone figure remained in the room, her elaborate silver armor glowing dully in the light of the crystal before her.
Maiev Shadowsong, head Warden of the Watchers, scowled behind her helmet at the demon encased in crystal. She had arrived barely an hour before the army of demons breached the Vault. The Vault of the Wardens was a vast underground prison compound, used to house demons and traitors. Maiev scarcely had time to warn her soldiers of the Burning Legion’s new invasion–pouring in untold numbers from the Tomb of Sargeras–and then demons were at her doorstep. But…they weren’t all demons.
Maiev sensed two familiar presences nearby, and while both were tainted with fel magic, neither were actually demons. One was a fellow night elf–a Warden like her. Or she had been. Cordana Felsong had been corrupted by evil magic and turned to the Legion, forsaking everything she’d once sworn to protect. The other was the one who had corrupted her: an orcish presence very much like the one Maiev had felt so long ago, the first time she’d ventured into the Tomb of Sargeras. The mere echoes of that presence made her skin crawl then, even surrounded by the utter wrongness that was the Tomb.
Nothing good had ever happened in the Tomb of Sargeras. Maeiv’s scowl grew. Today was the second time she’d barely escaped the place with her life. The first time, a demon she’d been hunting pulled down the walls to bury her alive. Not just any demon: Illidan Stormrage, a former kaldorei who’d sold his soul to the Legion for power. He claimed he’d done it to earn their trust, to infiltrate their ranks and learn their weaknesses. No one had believed him. After the Legion’s defeat during the First Invasion, Illidan had been locked away, imprisoned for ten thousand years below Mount Hyjal. Maiev had been his jailer the whole time. He’d led her on a desperate chase after he’d been set free by the woman he’d loved in his youth, Tyrande Whisperwind.
Illidan. Maiev’s grimace deepened into a rictus of pain. She’d thrown away ten thousand years of her life guarding him, and several more hunting him down after his escape. She’d thrown her soldiers at him until they were whittled down to nothing, ground down her reputation and sanity, even risked her own life as if it were meaningless. Nothing at all had mattered to her but his recapture. Or his execution.
Maiev Shadowsong had succeeded, finally, in achieving one goal: Illidan’s corpse was encased in a massive crystal far below, safely stored on the lowest level of the Vault of the Wardens. At least…he should have been safe.
Maiev’s chest constricted as though a massive hand squeezed her. What were the demons here for? Illidan? Surely they hadn’t come to rescue the other various demons imprisoned in the Vault–not when they had just come pouring en masse through a breach between worlds. Were they so determined to eradicate the few Watchers Maiev commanded? Were they simply there to sew chaos, to keep the Wardens distracted from the larger invasion? Her first instinct was to go to Illidan’s corpse. Duty pulled at her like the moon on the tides, commanding her to join the fray with her sisters. Maiev had always loved her duty more than any worldly attachments…but she felt keenly her duty to guard Illidan as well. Torn, her mind raced from possibility to possibility as the clash of battle echoed into the chamber.
“Lady Maiev? We need you!” The voice of a subordinate called from the hallway behind her.
She turned her head slowly, her whirling thoughts at last settling on a course of action. “There is something I must do first.”
Maiev raced down the dark hallway, armored feet scarcely making any noise on the stone floor. As desperately as she wanted to go to Illidan, she knew it was too dangerous to venture that far below without aid. There were too many demons for her Wardens to deal with unaided; their numbers had been decimated years prior by her mad war with Illidan Stormrage and had not yet fully recovered. Her throat clenched in pain. She’d made so many mistakes during her long, long life. Becoming obsessed with Illidan was the font of most of them.
The Warden turned a corner and came face to face with a slavering felhound. The beast growled and lunged at her with its toothy maw and grasping tentacles. It sensed her connection to Elune’s holy light, and would have sucked her dry of both magic and life if it touched her. It never came close. Maiev growled back, gathered her power, and teleported behind the creature, whirling to sever its spine as she reappeared. She took only a moment to shake its bright green blood from her glaive, and then she raced onward through the twisting halls.
Maiev finally arrived at her destination, another chamber housing several large, green crystals. The Vault was full of them: each was a cell for the demon within, a crystalline cage formed from the creatures’ own demonic magic. Except the crystals in this room housed beings that were not demons. Not fully.
“Illidari…” she rasped, pausing to survey the humanoid figures trapped in the matrices. They had been elves once, either night elf or blood elf, and had sacrificed much of their souls for power in the service of Illidan Stormrage. He had practically made them in his own image: they had vivid tattoos, and scales, and the curving horns of demons, just like Illidan. They even proclaimed everything they did was for the protection of Azeroth–just like Illidan. Maiev had captured them years before in the Black Temple, shortly after slaying their master. The very sight of them still filled her with revulsion.
But they could be useful. Maiev saw no alternative. She tapped her finger on the closest cage, the steel claw at the end of her gauntlet gouging a chip from the crystal. Maiev knew what she had to do. “I’ve spent my entire life as keeper of the wicked,” she muttered as much to herself as to the captive, drawing her finger down the surface of the crystal. “Thousands of years, my only solace, knowing the world was kept safe from your kind.” She winced even as she raised her glaive, hating herself for what she was about to do. “But I would do anything to save Azeroth…even if it means releasing you .” And she shattered the crystal, freeing the mutated elf within.
The demon hunter who fell to the ground was a female kaldorei–or had been, once. She was whip thin, with dark hair and short, curving horns. Despite herself, Maiev couldn’t help but wonder who she had been once, and what had driven her to seek out Illidan Stormrage. Kneeling on the floor, the demon hunter groaned and shook her head as if trying to clear her thoughts.
Maeiv turned to a nearby weapon rack that stored the glaives taken from the demon hunters years prior. “Will you help us, demon hunter?” she asked, holding a glaive towards the Illidari. The demon hunter nodded once and raised her hand. Maiev tossed the weapon to her, and the demon hunter rose to her feet, holding the weapon at ready without hesitation.
“Free the other Illidari,” Maiev ordered, spinning to crack open another crystal prison. To her credit, the demon hunter did not waste time asking questions. Instead, Maiev heard her break open another crystal, and before long a small troupe of demon hunters stood before the Warden. She could only pray to Elune that she was doing the right thing.
The loud roar of a demon thundered into the room, and Maiev heard the raised voices of her Watchers answer its challenge. She glanced at the freed Illidari; they had drawn their weapons, bodies tense for battle. Maiev grunted, then turned and ran out of the room towards the fray, not waiting to see if they followed. The demon hunters seemed to have recovered quickly, whether through great physical resilience or sheer force of will, Maiev could not tell. But they would figure out what to do next. Perhaps Illidan had trained them well after all.
Illidan. Maiev felt a sudden, cold urgency coil around her heart. She extended her senses, seeking Cordana Felsong and the tainted orc. Her mind flitted from room to room, from demon to demon, desperately searching for any sign of the pair. She sent her mind lower even as she ran through the chaos in the hallways of the Vault, her mind flying swiftly even as her body fought. Her reflexes had been trained over the millennia, and Maiev moved automatically through the dance of battle as if she had been born to it. Demons leapt for her, and her glaive moved almost on its own to cleave them asunder. Maiev barely saw the monsters in her path as they died. Still she searched.
There –on a level below, and moving lower–Maiev’s senses brushed over the pair she sought. They had not bothered to conceal themselves at all, and she frowned. Were they so arrogant, thinking they need not bother? Surely it was not mere carelessness. Not with Cordana. Not if the orc was who Maiev thought he was: Gul’dan. Maiev hissed to herself in consternation as she raced to the lower floors of the Vault.
Khadgar had told her about the second Gul’dan, the one from the strange Draenor that should not have been. The first Gul’dan–the real one?–had died in the cursed place Maiev had barely escaped earlier. Years ago he had gone skulking through the Tomb to look for power, and had instead been torn apart by demons as retribution for his treachery. Maiev had found the runes telling his tale, written by the warlock in his dying moments; even then, Gul’dan had to make sure he was remembered. This second Gul’dan, from some twisted alternate world that had never been–or had it?–had found his way back to the Tomb where he had died. Maiev smiled without mirth. Criminals always did return to the scene of their crimes. But this one was still alive, and perhaps even more dangerous because he had succeeded. He finally harnessed the power locked in the Tomb to tear open a gateway to let the Legion pour through into Azeroth. And now he was here.
Why?
Maiev fought back a wave of fear as she sensed the pair descend further into the black depths of the Vault. There was only one thing of importance so far down that could have tempted them. “Illidan!” she growled.
“Lord Illidan?” A strange female’s voice came from just behind her.
The Warden whirled around, bringing her glaive arcing towards the figure behind her in the dark hallway. The figure somersaulted backwards, fel green eyes leaving vivid streaks in the shadows as she leapt. She landed in a crouch several feet away, warglaives held up before her defensively as she waited for Maiev’s next attack. Instead, Maiev grunted and lowered her weapon: it was the female Illidari she’d freed. Foolish girl. Only her quick reflexes had saved her from learning a costly lesson about sneaking up on Maiev Shadowsong. Perhaps Illidan’s training really had prepared them for battle. At least a little.
Maiev turned without speaking and ran further down the hallway, seeking the elevator that would take her down to the lower level, to the Tomb of the Penitent. Beyond it was the Vault of the Betrayer. Of Illidan.
“What about Lord Illidan?” the Illidari female asked again. Maiev sensed the demon hunter racing after her more than she heard her footsteps. She hated to admit it, but the girl knew how to move silently, even in haste.
Maiev considered her response. These Illidari had been remarkably agreeable, at least so far. What choice did they have, suddenly freed–and surrounded by the very monsters they had been created to hunt? But what would they do when they saw what Maiev had done to their master? How far could Maiev trust them? It was not a feeling that came naturally to her.
“He is in danger,” she replied at last. “He is below.” She peeked over her shoulder at the Illidari; the girl’s face was grim with determination, her lurid green eyes narrow behind her blindfold as she considered Maiev’s words.
“I am Kor’vas,” the Illidari said finally in that strange voice of hers.
Maiev kept running. She didn’t care. Names did not matter. Only getting to Cordana and Gul’dan mattered. Only Illidan mattered.
Her heart constricted suddenly at the thought of him: Illidan, called the Betrayer. Maiev had sworn to guard over him, and she took her duties as seriously as the grave. For thousands of years she had stood watch over him, imprisoned in the darkness as surely as he. She should have hated him for that. And yet, impossibly, Maiev had found herself as his caretaker instead. Lost in the midst of madness, he would rage and wound himself, and then lie broken with only Maiev to tend to him. There had been no one else to do it. Illidan’s brother Malfurion, his beloved Tyrande–neither had come to see him during the many years of his punishment. He had been given to Maiev and then forgotten. Wasn’t it what he deserved, though? He had betrayed their people to the Legion, attacked her own brother! But…watching over him all those years had only revealed how pathetic he truly was, how pitiable. How…alone.
Maiev should have hated him…and yet she did not. Her feelings towards him now were…complicated.
Maiev gritted her teeth against the swell of pain in her chest. No. That was all behind her. She had lost herself to Illidan Stormrage once before. In her fury, in her madness, she had slain him and ended it all. It had taken her years to put the pieces of her life back together after that. She could not dwell on the past– should not. There were too many things at stake now.
Maiev and the Illidari reached the elevator that would take them to the lowest floor. The demon hunter was the first to break the awkward silence as they rode the circular platform down. “What danger is ahead?” she asked impatiently. “I need to know.”
The Warden tilted her head and eyed the Illidari, considering her response. As much as she hated to do it, she had released these creatures because she needed their help. They would be of no use if she sent them into danger blind–so to speak. Finally, Maiev spoke: “There are two traitors ahead of us–monsters who turned to the Legion for power. One, a former Warden, and the other an orc warlock named Gul’dan.”
“Gul’dan? But…he died long ago. I know that Lord Illidan–”
“Forget what you think you know, girl,” Maiev snapped. “This is not the same warlock. He is…from another world, but just as dangerous as the one you have heard of.” She paused, squeezing the grip of her glaive as if to reassure herself it was still there. This was why Maiev did not trust magic. “...Perhaps even more dangerous.”
The Illidari opened her mouth, but something in Maiev’s posture must have discouraged her from speaking, for instead she nodded silently. Maiev suppressed a grunt; the girl was smarter than she looked. That didn’t mean much, though, since she looked like Illidan.
Finally, the elevator reached the lowest level of the Vaut and the pair stepped off. The kaldorei architecture of the prison above ended with the elevator. What lay before them now was a roughly-hewn, switchback path sloping down into the darkness of a vast cavern. There was no sign of life ahead of them.
Maiev extended her senses again, desperately seeking Cordana and the orc. Next to her, the Illidari leaned forward, peering into the darkness with her sightless eyes. There! Almost at the end of the path, in front of the final lock before Illidan’s tomb–the foul aura of two who had been Legion-tainted. The Illidari girl must have sensed them at nearly the same time as Maiev, for she growled and took a step forward, warglaives raised in anticipation. As she did, a creaking sound and a dull thud echoed up through the black air of the cave: the door sealing the Vault of the Betrayer had been opened and closed. The Legion was almost to Illidan.
The Warden cursed and teleported forward, bypassing the path almost entirely and reappearing halfway down the slope. It was all she could do to restrain herself from barreling down as fast as her legs could carry her. She knew she had to conserve her energy; whatever the Legion’s intentions for Illidan, they would not leave without a fight. At least Maiev knew the path well and had no fear of teleporting into a bottomless pit; she had tread here so many times over the years, she could have navigated it if she were as blind as the demon hunter. As she reappeared, she looked back over her shoulder to check on the Illidari. The demon hunter had leapt into the air and spread a pair of leathery wings to glide down. She was fast–she had almost reached Maiev. The Warden nodded in grudging approval and Blinked forward once more to the bottom of the path. She heard a soft rustle as the demon hunter dropped onto the ground behind her.
The ground seemed to lurch unexpectedly as a nauseating pulse of fel energy swept over the pair. Maiev gritted her teeth and fought against a sudden wave of vertigo. Though the room seemed to spin around her, the ground was as stable as ever. It was only the aftershock of powerful demonic magic, the foul power at odds with the holy light of Elune that Maiev bore within her. Just hold on a little longer, she thought, steeling herself against the nausea. Just a little longer, Illidan.
The demon hunter recovered faster and growled, baring her fangs as she raced towards the massive door blocking their way. Of course the Illidari could withstand such foulness: she was half demon herself. Urgency lent Maiev extra swiftness, and she leapt forward and arrived at the owl-carved door just as the Illidari did. The Warden held out her glaive out and desperately chanted the words that would release the locking spells. She did not know the purpose of the magic Gul’dan and Cordana had unleashed. She only knew it involved Illidan, and that worried her more than she cared to admit. The magical lock flared with blue-white light, and the door creaked torturously open.
Illidan! I am coming! She wanted to scream down the hallway to him, go racing forward with reckless abandon. But even Maiev–who had sunk to almost the lowest depths possible in a long life full of mistakes–knew she could not be so foolish. She had to wait a few moments more while she pushed her senses along the way ahead of her to check for traps. There were none; Gul’dan and Cordana were indeed arrogant.
At last the door opened wide enough, and the Warden bolted through and down the walkway beyond, the demon hunter close at her heels. They were too late. Maiev skidded to a halt, staring in horror at the scene before her. The three sturdy chains that had anchored in place the crystal holding Illidan’s body now swung loose. Below them stood the strange orc warlock and the Warden who had once been Cordana Felsong. Three portals of fel magic spun in twisted loops behind them. There was no sign of the massive green stone.
Rage flashed like lightning through Maiev’s body, burning away the feeling of dread. “Cordana!” she roared. “You will answer to the High Council for this!”
The other Watcher’s armor had once been like Maiev’s, silver and modeled after an owl. Now it was a testament to the corruption of the night elf within: the metal plates had been warped and twisted by the Legion, glowing with the vivid green of fel magic. “Judge me all you like, sister ,” Cordana Felsong sneered, “but you cannot stop us.”
“You are too late, Warden.” The other Gul’dan lifted his hand as he spoke, and two hulking mo’arg demons lumbered through a portal on either side of him. “This Vault will be your tomb.” He turned away even before he finished speaking and limped into the central portal, Cordana at his side. The demons stomped forward, weapons at ready.
No! Her only link to Illidan’s body was about to vanish before her eyes. All sense of caution forgotten, Maiev lurched forward a step, then spun back as she remembered the Illidari behind her. “Demon hunter, you have to survive!” She glanced back over her shoulder; the forms of Gul’dan and Cordana were fading to nothing as the portal swept them away. “Find the one named Archmage Khadgar. You can trust him!”
The demon hunter nodded, face grim as she raised her warglaives for battle. Maiev had only a moment to acknowledge her discipline and lack of fear. Then she darted between the two enormous mo’arg before they could do more than stare at her, disbelief clear on their ugly faces.
“Illidan is still my charge!” the Warden shouted as she rushed through the portal. She felt no fear either, only outrage. After all, she had her duty to guard Illidan.
She had a duty to guard her mate.
Maiev Shadowsong roared a wordless challenge as her Watchers had done earlier, and the world around her dissolved into green mist.
❈❈❈
Kor’vas had no time to gape as the Warden leapt into a portal, nor to wonder at her last words and why her voice sounded so strange. The two demons roared and barreled towards her, swords raised. Burning green fire burst from the Illidari’s skin as she dashed towards the demons, and she left fiery footsteps in her wake.
“For Lord Illidan!” she screamed.
One of the demons swung its sword arm down at her, and she vaulted backwards as she had done earlier when she startled the Warden. The heavy weapon crashed into the stone where she had been, biting deeply into the floor. Too deeply; it was now wedged into the rock. Kor’vas darted forward, almost seeming to Blink through space the way Maiev had, and launched herself off the mo’arg’s forearm towards its face. It tore the sword free just in time, batting her to the side before she could do more than leave a superficial slash across its chest with her warglaives.
She tumbled head over heels across the ground before finding her feet, sliding into a crouch and bringing her weapons up over her head just in time. The second demon swung its spike-covered fist down at her with such force that the stone cracked and buckled below her. Kor’vas cried out in rage and shock, arms trembling with the effort of keeping that massive fist from crushing her into pulp. The first demon–the one she had wounded–stomped towards her, its face twisted with evil glee as it raised its weapon again. The demon pinning her in place chuckled in anticipation.
The green fire around Kor’vas exploded upwards in a massive plume, engulfing the steel gauntlet of the mo’arg holding her down. It bellowed in pain and stumbled backwards, the metal of its gauntlet half-melted and glowing bright red. The demon hunter allowed herself to smile as her flames died down. She could smell burning flesh.
“Your turn,” Kor’vas told the first demon. She rushed forward again as it turned from its injured brethren. The Illidari knew she had to be quick in her work, before the second one recovered enough to attack with the first. She turned inward, to the demon that lurked within her own soul, and set it free.
Shadows slithered over her skin as she transformed. Her muscles bulged as her limbs expanded, giving her added height and extra strength. A leathery pair of wings exploded from her back, and the tattoos winding around her torso flared with fel light. Kor’vas could not suppress a laugh as her veins swelled with power; this feeling, this metamorphosis, was sweeter than the finest wine, more dangerous than the most illicit drug. It was part of the reason so few Illidari survived their training. But she had no time to dwell on the added dangers now. She could only do as the Warden had bidden and survive.
The mo’arg again swung its sword artlessly down towards her. Its movements seemed slower now too. Kor’vas snorted in derision. “Don’t you know any other moves?” she shouted, batting its weapon away with almost as much ease as it had done to her before.
The demon snarled in frustration and kicked her in the face.
Kor’vas reeled a few steps back and shook her head, ears ringing from the blow. Something hot and liquid trickled down to her lip, and she wiped vivid green blood away from her nose with a forearm.
“Well, I suppose you do,” she growled, licking away traces of blood. And she rushed forward again, propelling herself forwards with a sweep of her wings. She practically danced around the demon, appearing behind it and before it and beside it with such speed the demon could barely perceive her as a shadowy blur–and then she was gone again. She slashed it over and over with her blades, her snarl rising into triumphant laughter as the demon howled in pain. It fell to its knees with a resounding thud before her.
Kor’vas felt a breeze on her neck and just barely dropped into a crouch before the second demon’s sword sliced through the air where she had been. She spun on her hooves to face it as it loomed above her. The demon within her struggled for control, and Kor’vas finally unleashed almost its full power. She let the demonic energy pour forth in a torrent of green energy from her eyes, blasting the demon from its belly up to its ugly head.
The burned demon finally fell onto its back and did not move. Kor’vas heard the first one struggling to rise and turned back to it. The mo’arg, covered in dozens of slashes from her weapons, howled in agony as she turned her burning gaze up on it. At last, it too fell down and did not rise again. Both demons were merely mounds of smoking flesh.
Kor’vas grimaced as she struggled to regain control over her inner demon, and the metamorphosis finally faded away, leaving behind only the lean kaldorei female. Exhausted, she dropped to her knees–and suddenly wished she hadn’t. She was entirely too close to the charred demons, and the stench made her stomach turn.
Groaning, she struggled back to her feet and looked back across the platform. All three portals were gone, and there was no sign of Warden Shadowsong. Despite herself, Kor’vas shivered; the Warden was just as terrifying as any demon, and even more unpredictable. At least with a demon, you knew it wanted you dead. The Warden was not so obvious. She seemed to take Kor’vas’s measure anew with each glance, deciding whether or not she was still useful from moment to moment. She must have been desperate indeed to set the Illidari free…just as she had sounded so very desperate when she claimed Illidan before vanishing.
Kor’vas sighed and shook her head, hoping to clear away her exhaustion. Well, the Warden was on her own now. The Illidari could only pray she would survive as well.