The Well of Eternity (22 page)

In a chamber lit by glittering emerald crystals positioned high in each of the five corners, Lord Ravencrest inspected his catch. The commander sat upon a chair carved from the same stone as his hold. The chair stood upon a dais, also stone, giving Ravencrest the ability to look down on the trio even while seated.

Armed soldiers lined the walls of the chamber while others surrounded Malfurion and his comrades. Ravencrest himself was flanked by his senior officers, each of whom stood with his helm in the crook of one arm. At the noble’s immediate right waited Illidan.

Present also were two high-ranking members of the Moon Guard. They were a late addition to the proceedings, having arrived at Black Rook Hold just as the commander had brought his prisoners to the gates. The Moon Guard, too, had detected Rhonin’s spell, but their spies had informed them of Ravencrest’s party before there had been any chance to send out searchers of their own. The sorcerers were not at all pleased by the noble’s actions nor were they pleased with Illidan’s presence, he being an unsanctioned spellcaster in their eyes.

“Once again, my Lord Ravencrest,” began the thinner, elder of the two Moon Guard, an officious figure by the name of Latosius. “I must request that these outsiders be turned over to us for proper questioning.”

“You’ve already had the beastman and lost him. He was to come to me, anyway. This simply shortens the procedure.” The noble eyed the three again. “There’s more here than what we see on the surface. Illidan, I would hear from you.”

Malfurion’s brother looked slightly ill at ease, but he answered strongly, “Yes, my lord, he is my brother.”

“That much is as obvious as night and day.” He studied the captive twin. “I know something of you, lad, just as I know something of your brother. Your name is Malfurion, yes?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“You rescued this creature?”

“I did.”

The commander leaned forward. “And you’ve an excellent reason why? One that would excuse this heinous act?”

“I doubt you would believe me, my lord.”

“Oh, I can come to believe many things, young one,” Lord Ravencrest replied calmly, tugging lightly on his beard.

“If they’re spoken in honesty. Can you do that?”

“I—” What other choice did Malfurion have? Sooner or later, through one method or another, they would pluck the truth from him. “I’ll try.”

And so he told them of his studies under Cenarius, which immediately raised doubtful brows. He explained his reoccurring dreams and how the demigod had taught him to walk in the world of the subconscious. Most of all, Malfurion described the disconcerting forces that had drawn him to, of all places, Zin-Azshari, and the palace of the night elves’ beloved queen.

They listened as he told of the Well itself and the turbulence that the sorcerers within the palace had stirred up. He painted for Ravencrest, the Moon Guard, and the others the vision of the tower and what he sensed went on inside.

The one thing he did not mention, assuming that from his story it would be obvious, was his fear that Queen Azshara sanctioned everything.

Ravencrest did not comment on his story, instead looking to the Moon Guard. “Has your order noticed any such trouble?”

The elder sorcerer answered. “The Well is more turbulent than usual and that could be from misuse. We have not monitored any such activity from Zin-Azshari, but then, such an incredible fiction as this—”

“Yes, it is incredible.” The bearded commander glanced up at Illidan. “What say you concerning your brother?”

“He’s never been one for delusions, my lord.” Illidan would not look at Malfurion. “As to whether it’s the truth…”

“Indeed. Still, I wouldn’t put it past Lord Xavius and the Highborne to instigate some devilment without her knowledge. They act as if the queen is their prized possession and no one else has a right to her.”

Even by the Moon Guard, this was greeted with nods. The arrogance of the lord counselor and those surrounding Azshara in the palace was well known.

“If I may,” Latosius interjected. “Once we’ve settled matters here, I will pass on word to the heads of our order. They will put into motion surveillance of the Highborne and their activities.”

“I should be most interested in that. Young Malfurion, your story—on the assumption that it is for the most part truth—explains some of your actions, but how does that fit into the freeing of a prisoner of your people, a most serious crime?”

“I can perhaps answer that better,” Rhonin suddenly said.

Malfurion was not so sure it was a good thing that the other outsider spoke. Night elves were not so tolerant of other races and although Rhonin had some vague resemblance to his kind, he still might as well have been a troll for all the good it would do him.

But Ravencrest appeared willing to listen, if nothing else. He waved a negligent hand toward the hooded wizard.

“In my land…a land not far from where he’s from,” explained Rhonin, nodding toward Brox. “A strange magical anomaly opened up. My people sent me and Brox’s sent him. We both discovered it separately…and were drawn unwilling through it. He ended one place, I another.”

“And how does this pertain to young Malfurion?”

“He believes…as I do…that this anomaly was caused by the spellwork mentioned.”

“That would be some cause for alarm,” commented the senior Moon Guard dubiously. “The green-skinned creature hardly seems what one would send to study a creation of sorcery or magic.”

“My Warchief commanded I go,” retorted Brox with a defiant snarl. “I went.”

“I cannot speak for the orcs,” Rhonin answered. “But I am certainly adept at such a study.” His eyes, so different from those of the night elves, dared the Moon Guard to deny him.

After a pause, both sorcerers nodded their agreement. Malfurion realized that they did not know what exactly Rhonin was, but they recognized one versed in the arts. Indeed, it was likely for that reason that the wizard had been allowed to speak at all.

“Perhaps I’m growing old, but I’m inclined to believe much of all this.” This admission from Lord Ravencrest drew some looks from his officers and sent a wave of relief through Malfurion. If the commander took their story to heart—

“We remain undecided,” Latosius declared. “Such information cannot be taken on faith alone. There must still be an inner interrogation.”

The noble’s brow rose. “Did I say otherwise?”

He snapped his fingers and the guards seized Malfurion tightly by the arms, dragging him toward the dais.

“Now I would like to test the faith I’ve placed in my new sorcerer. Illidan, we must ascertain the absolute truth, however distasteful that might seem to you. I trust I can rely on you to prove to us that
all
your brother says is true?”

The pony-tailed night elf swallowed, then looked beyond Malfurion. “My brother’s word I trust, but I can’t say the same for the robed creature, my lord.”

Illidan was trying to keep from having to use his powers on his brother by instead focusing on an outsider. While Malfurion appreciated that concern, he did not like the idea of Rhonin or Brox suffering in his place.

“Lord commander, this is absurd!” The senior sorcerer marched up to the dais, eyeing Illidan with contempt. “An un-sanctioned spellcaster who is the brother of one of the prisoners? Any questioning will be suspect!” He turned on Malfurion, silver eyes narrowed menacingly at the younger night elf. “In accordance with the laws set down at the very dawn of our civilization, in matters magical it is the responsibility and right of the Moon Guard to oversee all such interrogations!”

He advanced, coming within arm’s reach of the prisoner. Malfurion tried not to show his anxiety. Against the physical threats of Black Rook Hold, he hoped his druidic training would allow him to survive, but the delving of a sorcerer into his mind threatened him much more. Such a questioning could leave his body whole, but his brain so shattered that he might never recover.

Illidan leapt down from the dais. “My lord, I’ll interrogate my brother.”

Whatever his twin would do to him, Malfurion suspected that Illidan would be much more careful in his approach than the Moon Guard, who only wanted answers. Malfurion looked at Lord Ravencrest, hoping that the noble would accept Illidan’s offer.

But the master of Black Rook Hold only leaned back against his chair, stating, “The laws shall be followed. He is yours, Moon Guard…but only if you do the questioning here and now.”

“That is agreed.”

“Consider, in your work, that he may be telling the truth.”

It was the closest Malfurion guessed Ravencrest would come to trying to preserve Illidan’s twin from harm. First and foremost the bearded commander was protector of the realm. If that cost the life or mind of one night elf, then the sacrifice had to be made.

“The truth will be known,” was all the sorcerer would answer. To the guards, he commanded, “Hold his head straight.”

One of the armored figures positioned Malfurion for the Moon Guard. The robed figure reached up and touched the struggling prisoner’s temples with his index fingers.

A shock ran through Malfurion and he was certain that he screamed. His thoughts swirled around, old memories rising to the surface unbidden. Yet, each one was swiftly thrust back down as what felt like a clawed hand dug into his mind, seeking ever deeper…

Struggle not!
commanded a harsh voice that had to be that of Latosius.
Release your secrets and it will go the better for you!

Malfurion wanted to, but did not know how. He thought of what he had already told the gathering and tried to project that forward. Of Azshara’s possible duplicity, Malfurion still resisted revealing. It would lessen his chances of ever being believed if that suspicion leaked free—

Then, just as suddenly as the intrusive probe had bur rowed into his thoughts…it ceased. It did not withdraw, did not gradually fade away. It simply ceased.

Malfurion’s legs buckled. He would have fallen if not for the guards holding him.

Gradually he became aware of shouts, some in disbelief, others in consternation. One of the voices most strident sounded like that of the elder Moon Guard.

“It’s outrageous!” someone else cried out. “Surely not the queen!”

“Never!”

He had let slip his ultimate fear. Malfurion cursed his feeble mind. Barely had the questioning begun and he had already failed himself, failed Cenarius’s teaching…

“ ’Tis the Highborne! It has to be! This is Xavius’s doing!” another voice insisted

“He has committed evil against his own kind!” agreed the First.

What were they talking about? Although Malfurion’s head refused to clear, he still felt certain that something was not right about the shouted conversation. The speakers were too excited, reacting too adamantly to his beliefs. He was only one night elf and not even of high rank. Why would his vague suspicions throw them into growing panic?

“Let me see to him,” a voice said. Malfurion felt the guards hand him over to a single person, who lowered him gently to the floor.

Hands touched the sides of his face, lifting it up. Through bleary eyes, Malfurion met the gaze of his brother.

“Why didn’t you give in immediately?” Illidan muttered.

“Two hours! Do you still have a mind left?”

“Two—hours?”

Noting the response, Illidan breathed easier. “Praise Elune! After you spouted that nonsense about the queen, that old fool was determined to rip everything out of your head regardless of the cost! If not for his spell failing suddenly, he probably would have left you an empty husk! They haven’t forgiven the loss of their brethren and blame you for it!”

“H-his spell failed?” That hardly made sense. Malfurion’s interrogator had been a most senior sorcerer.

“All
of their spells have failed!” Illidan persisted. “After he lost control of the first, he tried another and when that didn’t work, his companion attempted a third…with no success!”

Malfurion still did not understand. What his twin hinted at sounded as if both of the Moon Guard had lost their powers. “They can’t cast?”

“No…and my own powers feel muted…” He leaned next to Malfurion’s ear. “I think I have some control…but barely. It’s as if we’ve been cut off from the Well!”

The commotion continued to grow. He heard Lord Ravencrest demand if the Moon Guard still maintained contact with their brethren, to which one of the sorcerers admitted that the ever-present link had been severed. The noble then asked of his own followers if any still retained their own skills, however slight.

No one answered in the affirmative.

“It’s begun…” Malfurion whispered without thinking.

“Hmm?” His twin frowned. “What’s that? What has?”

He looked past Illidan, recalling the violent forces carelessly summoned by those in the tower. He saw again the lack of regard for what such spellwork might do to those beyond the palace walls.

“I don’t know…” Malfurion finally told his brother. “I wish by the Mother Moon I did…but I just don’t.” Beyond Illidan he saw the concerned countenances of Brox and Rhonin. Whether or not they understood as he did, both looked as if they shared his growing fear. “I only know that, whatever it may be…it’s
begun.”

All over the realm of the night elves, all over the continent of Kalimdor, thousands of others sensed the loss. The Well had been cut off from them. The power that they had so blithely wielded…was all but gone. A sense of alarm swiftly grew, for it was as if someone had reached up and just stolen the moon.

Those living nearest to the palace naturally turned to their queen, calling upon Azshara for guidance. They waited before the bolted gates, gathering in greater and greater numbers. Above, the sentries watched blank-faced, neither moving to open the gates nor calling down to calm the growing crowd.

Only after more than half the night had passed and most of the city had emptied out into the areas before the palace did the gates finally open. The people poured forward, relieved. They were certain that Azshara had finally come out in response to their pleas.

But what emerged from within the palace walls was not the queen, nor was it anything ever imagined in the night elf world.