Death Never Dies

by Milton Garby

  Sara tried her hardest to keep smiling. What?

  "If you'd follow me please, he'd like to meet with ya, chat about whatever that old hog is up to. It's not too far actually, just on the other side of the Ward."

  "Sure, no problem. Lead the way," she said.

  "Thank ya for being so understanding," the messenger dwarf said with a slight bow. "Alright now, come along!" The guard left the hall and, after a moment to realize what was going on, Sara hovered after her.

  She didn't even notice the guild hall around them. Her eyes were trained on the dwarf's back while her thoughts raced.

  Sara didn't know who Captain Hammerfist was, but he was likely at least somewhat high up. And he was looking through files. Asking for her. There were any number of possibilities as to what it was, but she knew in her gut it was about her deserting in Nethergarde. He wouldn't necessarily know that, of course. From the Alliance's perspective, she simply dropped off the face of Azeroth and reappeared in Ironforge. And Sara had built up all manner of lies to get out of this exact scenario.

  They left the guild hall and entered the open space of the Military Ward, heading for the opposite corner of the area.

  But now that this exact scenario was upon her, all of Sara's tricks and deceptions just seemed so flimsy to her ears. How would anyone believe it? How would she get away with mind magic? How could this end in any way other than her getting in a tremendous amount of trouble? Even jailed with antimagic? There was the chance this captain merely wanted to discuss her powers, but that was a reach. Sara had to get away. She had to... she had to...

  ... go back.

  There weren't any more opportunities. Stormwind was her last chance, and while both Talgath and the pit lord Argolash were gone, someone much worse had taken their place. She wasn't doing good here. She had to run to the Dragonblight and enlist with the Wyrmrest Accord. No, not even that would be enough. She was a crippled god, she could only be in one place at a time. Everyone was losing. There wasn't enough firepower left on Azeroth to win this war. She couldn't trust the higher ups. They hadn't done anything to win this war. She couldn't stay with the Alliance. She couldn't go to the dragons. There was only one option left for her. She had to go, right now.

  Sara's lungs were heavy and her breaths weak. She didn't have her distraction gem with her... but she didn't need it anymore.

  Her hands glowed, and the aura of distraction wrapped around her. Immediately she turned away from the dwarven woman and floated full-speed in the other direction. She passed over the crowded Commons and, nearly half an hour later, arrived in the Mystic Ward, her head pounding and her heart hammering. A plan. She needed a plan. A plan to go back to Ulduar, to perfect the ritual, to gather the reagents and servants needed to complete it. She would rise from the earth as a god, overwhelming and eternal, destroy the demons... and hope she could stop herself from destroying everything else.

  Her gut wrenched. Her parents. Her friend. If things went wrong, she needed to make sure she wouldn't be able to reach them. The grasp of an Old God was long, but she knew just how long it was. She could get them further away. Sara just had to figure out how.

  By the time she reached the Mystic Ward, she had a decent idea. She floated into the Hall of Mysteries, past the stretchers carrying the wounded, past priests and paladins summoning the Holy Light. She went up the stairs, past a few ramps, and arrived in the magister section, lined with bookshelves spiraling into the depths of the earth. It was silent and empty. The wooden cylinder had only a chandelier at the top, and unlit candles along the stairwell going down.

  She inspected the books, and after a moment determined they were organized using the Aegwynnian System instead of the Aranian System. She went down a few levels and found the tomes on portals. She brought out the one listing various portal location resonances and got to work.

  "Maybe I should have gotten something to write on," she mused, lightning a candle. She found a table and floated into a seat, the book spread on the wood before her. She flipped, inspecting the various portal locations. Dalaran, no. Ratchet, no. Ironforge, no. Stormwind, ha, no. Vale of Eternal Blossoms, no. Shattrath, no...

  .. wait. Shattrath! She flipped back and pressed her nose to the paper, reading over the coordinates. That could work. That would work. Send Leira and Mom and Dad to Outland. When she transformed back into an Old God, she could destroy the Dark Portal permanently. The only gambles were if her consciousness wouldn't be consumed when she changed back - but it was a risk she had to take - and if she could stay benevolent towards them long enough to do so. Once the portal was closed, Outland would lose its ties to Azeroth and go drifting away in the Twisting Nether, forever out of reach. Like a boat set loose from bay. It was the perfect plan!

  Excitement tingled inside of her. She got out of her seat and floated away from the book, having memorized Shattrath's coordinates. Sara could, in theory, use arcane magic to make a portal. Unfortunately, she'd never done any arcane work before, but there was a way to make portals using shadow magic.

  She had time. Not a lot, but some. Nobody would have noticed her go to the Mystic Ward and nobody would expect her to. The guard leading her probably knew she'd gone missing by now, so the clock was ticking. But Sara was confident. She looked over the knowledge burnt into her mind, placed the book back onto its shelf and extinguished the candle between her fingers.

  It was time.

  Sara's first attempt at opening the portal ended up in her casting a shadow bolt, which she stopped before doing any damage. The second attempt created a portal that would evenly spread her particles over the entire universe. The third attempt... the less said about that, the better. On the fourth try, however, she succeeded.

  It took her a minute to cast. The portal was initially a tall, vertical slit in the world. Then it opened up into a vast rectangle, pitch black in the middle and violet along the edges. Six ethereal hands appeared at the edges of the portal, holding it open. Sara double checked to make sure it would bring her properly to Shattrath, then made sure it would properly expire. Then she floated in.

  This wasn't like a mage's portal. Those made her feel like she was falling, then tossed her up as she arrived. This, however, was like sliding down a tunnel, dark and impermeable. She slid and slid, going faster and faster, until suddenly it ended and she was tossed out of open air, with only her levitation enchantment to catch her.

  Sara almost went blind instantly.

  She closed her eyes and bit down a scream as her skin seemed to broil. Something heavy and powerful closed in around her, scorching her soul and searching through her very being. There was not a single iota of herself she could hide from the spotlight as it inspected, turning over her every memory and action.

  Then, as suddenly as it came, the light faded and Sara could open her eyes.

  Sure enough, it worked. She was in Shattrath. The ground was patterned with swirling arcs, made of gray slate polished to perfection. The chamber she was in could have held the Cathedral of Light twice over. It was enormous, circular, with walls of gold speckled with sky-blue crystals. A secondary platform ringed the edges, with various personnel walking along it. The chamber rose to a point, barely open to the sky, and that point spewed a pillar of blazing light into the heavens.

  The source of the light was painfully obvious. Floating in the center of the chamber was a naaru.

  Its heavenly light was painful to look at. The glare it gave off was pure and white, illuminating the vast chamber effortlessly. The being was created of floating, rotating shards of light the size of her torso at minimum, forming a tall being that she couldn't compare to anything else she had ever seen, except perhaps a windchime. The comparison was aided by the fact that, from the energy being, she could hear a slow melody that made her dream of days at the park, vanilla ice cream, and having bed time stories read to her. It didn't appear to be facing her, but nonetheless Sara felt like its full attention was upon her.

  'I know why you have come, dark on
e,' she heard a handsomely masculine voice say in her head. She jolted in fright, wavering in the air. The naaru still didn't face her. 'Peace, dark one. You will find no danger from us.' Coming from a being literally made of the Holy Light, that wasn't reassuring. 'Know that those you have come to care for will find sanctuary here. The Legion tires of this world, and even now debates on writing it off as already being destroyed. Should they return, the Tempest Keep is long under our control,' it explained in her head, calm like a father and soothing like a volcano. 'There are many contingencies planned. Should the Burning Legion attempt to destroy us, there is ample room on the Tempest Keep structures even with the absence of the Exodar. Every citizen will be boarded, and will be translocated to safety.'

  Sara hesitated, and thought in the direction of the naaru. A glance back made her wonder if her shadow was darker than normal here. 'That is reassuring.' A pause. 'You know what I'm going to do to Azeroth.'

  'You yourself do not know. There is much conflict in you, dark one. A saying among the mortals exists, cautioning that those who spend time among monsters may take on their characteristics. This very saying is applicable to the fallen Titan. However, I would implore you to consider the reverse is also more than possible.' The energy being sounded like it was pleading. 'If you go through with this, nothing will be able to force you save the Pantheon, which is half a galaxy away and growing more distant at all times. Your nature will not force you to do anything. I merely ask you, once your planet is cleared of the Flame, to do as those you care about would wish you to do.'

  Sara considered that. It was what she planned already, but hearing the literal embodiment of all that was good and right tell her that was what she should do made her stomach churn. 'You speak as though my success is a foregone conclusion,' she noted. 'I know little of the ways of the Light. Are you mystics?' she asked bluntly, all hopes of deception burned away under the naaru's glow.

  'We can see possibilities, to an extent. In what you are to bring, I can see nothing. But I do know what has been established. The machinations set in place by your previous incarnation, by their nature, have a very high chance of success. Indeed, the only thing that may reliably risk those plans is you changing such that you would not wish to return. Your success is not guaranteed, dark one, but it is highly probable.' The chiming song grew fainter and darker, and Sara felt as though she'd performed a grave injustice just by moderately saddening this being. 'I only ask you take my words into consideration if you do succeed.' The song brightened once more.

  'Now,' it explained. 'I will lend you some modicum of aid, to expedite your search and hurry your nullification of the demons. The two homes you seek are located in the northernmost section of the Lower City, on the inner ring. Eight Hundred Poros road, and Seventy One Dioniss avenue. They are both for sale, and there is little interest in them due to their exorbitant costs. For the former, which you will find suited for your parents, it is one hundred thousand gold.'

  Sara nearly choked.

  'For the latter,' the naaru continued. 'It is fifty five thousand. Do as you will to accrue this money, but do no harm. Go in peace, dark one.'

  The naaru didn't turn, but Sara felt its attention turn away from her. The light it gave off seemed less intense than before.

  "Breathtaking, is it not?" a voice asked from beside her. Sara shrieked and spun around, only to be met with the sight of a draenic man. His eyes widened and he held a hand to his mouth. "Oh, my apologies. I hadn't meant to startle you. You just seemed deeply enraptured with A'dal."

  "Yeah," she muttered. "Enraptured. I shouldn't have spent so long staring, I have to get some potions."

  The man nodded. "I know the feeling. Go in peace, friend!" he said in his heavy accent.

  "Yeah, go in peace as well," she said, turning away to hover out of the chamber. She found a doorway and exited into a world of fresh air.

  Sara had never been in Outland before. It was... strange. The air smelled faintly of arcane magic, and if she looked closely at the off-blue sky, she could make out rivers of nether energy arcing across it. The gravity was lower, too. It wasn't easy to notice while levitating, but things definitely fell a great deal slower than on Azeroth, and the air was a tad thin as well.

  Shattrath itself was colossal. While not as busy as it had been during the Outland Campaign, the city still saw a decent amount of traffic. Even as she made her way north she saw wooden crates being shoved through portals, filled with weapons, potions, and more. At least Shattrath wasn't abandoning Azeroth in its time of need. The spire of light coming from the center pierced into the heavens, like a bonfire at Sara's back.

  Sara reached the Lower City in good time, hovering down into it. She'd read books about the place during the Outland Campaign, and was satisfied to see it had picked itself up. No longer were refugees squatting in every alley. No longer did piles of rubble outnumber homes. Shattrath wasn't a glorified refugee camp anymore, it was a proper city. It smelled of fungus and mold, but that was fine. Sara made her way across the streets, scanning for numbers, and first found the house A'dal recommended for Leira.

  It was hard to make anything of it from the outside, so she got inside with a touch of magic to prevent onlookers. Even so, it was hard for her to make many judgements. She didn't know anything about home ownership, and the fact that everything was in Shattrath's geometric architecture made it even harder to judge. But she didn't find any infestations or cracks, or anything of the like. And it was more than spacious enough for one person, with three rooms and a bathroom. There was even an attic consisting solely of a closet. Much better than the hole Leira occupied in Ironforge.

  She left that building and inspected the other one. It wasn't next to Leira's to-be house, but it was only a twenty minute walk so maybe they could see each other from time to time. It was big, too. A proper second floor, with rooms she was already scoping out to be bedrooms, restrooms, and so much more. It was empty, no furnishings in sight, but Sara nodded and gave mental thanks to A'dal. These two homes would be perfect. She just had to pay for them.

  The solution was obvious: Sara had to figure out how to conjure precious metals from thin air.

  All in all, Sara spent a week in Shattrath City. The first day she'd had to do some modest thieving just to have food, water, and a fresh change of clothes - and the sun felt unusually bright when she did - but by the second day she'd figured out the conjuration of gold. From there money snowballed in, especially as she upgraded to truesilver, adamantite, titanium, and even elementium. She sold them on auction, and demand for them was huge. She could even justify it if she had to: if her plan to become an Old God fell through, she'd provided a large amount of valuable resources for the defense of Azeroth.

  She went as fast as she could. Not only could she feel A'dal's gaze upon her at all times, but every minute that passed she wondered if now Ironforge was destroyed, or maybe now, or now. Alas, she could only gather over 155,000 gold so fast.

  She bought the houses, and had the deeds signed to her parents and Leira respectively, as gifts. And since the houses were both completely empty, she also bought basic furnishings for them, plus a few thousand gold left over for expenses... and she'd also written down the instructions for a dark ritual to summon precious metals much the same way she'd been doing, except it didn't require them to be magical. They would never want for anything.

  Sara browsed through a library and found the portal coordinates for Darnassus. She took a deep breath, floating inside what would soon be her parents' house.

  Her left hand came up, and filaments of dark purple energy flowed along her arm before condensing into an orb in the palm. She finished setting up the nether channels, set the proper values to the filters, and thrust her hand into the air.

  A dark rift in reality tore open before her, held open by shadow hands. In the city of Shattrath, the portal seemed far darker and more ominous than it had in the depths of the Mystic Ward. But she couldn't hang around to admire it, she had places to
go and things to do. Checking to make sure her pack was fastened on her back, Sara floated through.

  Again, she slid down a shrouded tunnel, and at its end she was again thrown out. This time, in the middle of a temple dedicated to the goddess Elune.

  Stomach churning in anxiety, Sara left without paying any attention to the scenery, or the statue, or the inhabitants. Were she not on a mission, she would've taken time to explore. Darnassus was a new experience, something she'd never seen before. But she was on a mission. She levitated into the wide open spaces of Darnassus, headed north from the temple. Even if she wasn't trying, she couldn't help but see the sights.

  Trees with magenta leaves sprouted from the greenest grass she had ever seen. Gentle clouds drifted in the air, with thousands of stars twinkling behind them. Shimmering blue orbs drifted back and forth. Sara thought they were lights for a moment, but then one of them came by her and she saw it had a face.

  Wisps.

  The wisp looked at her, raised a ghostly eyebrow, then sped away from her.

  Sara made her way to the central island, then turned east to head towards the main part of Darnassus. That was when a problem occurred to her. She had no idea where her parents were within Darnassus.

  She found a pair of sentinels on patrol. The night elven women were dressed up in elegant purple armor, their hair was tied back, and the glaives at their sides looked sharp enough to slice through elementium. She shook herself and made to show fear as she approached them. "Excuse me," she asked demurely. "I'm looking for my parents. I know they're here as refugees, but I've been looking all day and I'm really worried about them..." she explained, trailing off and forcing the beginning of tears in her eyes.

  "Calm yourself. We can guide you to them," one of the sentinels explained., holding our a hand gently. "What were their last names?"

  "Smithers," she explained, letting her demeanor calm down. "Last name Smithers."