by Milton Garby
The same sentinel closed her eyes and murmured to herself in Darnassian. Eventually, she opened her eyes and switched back to Common. "Should be in the 'S' group. Right this way, miss."
"Thank you," she said timidly, following the night elf.
As they crossed the bridges, Sara glanced down at the crystal clear water. The fish within all darted away from her. In the distance, Sara could see gray-roofed buildings belonging to the Tradesmen's Terrace. Some of the buildings were grown entirely out of trees, and others of some odd purple stone. Darnassus probably wouldn't be quite as crowded as Ironforge, but even still...
They came off the bridge and turned a few corners. Night elves rushed back and forth in a surprising hurry. Other races joined them, moving up and down ramps, forward and backward along streets, haggling in shops, buying, some selling, adjusting their packs, and so forth. Sara continued to follow the sentinels until they stopped at a four way intersection.
"The nearest refugee center is that way," the other sentinel said, pointing down one of the streets. "Take the first right, it'll be the second building on the left. I wish you luck in finding your parents, young one."
Sara tried not to show how much she hated being called that, instead putting on her 'grateful face'. "Oh thank you so much. You're lifesavers." She rushed forward and, once the sentinels were behind her, let scorn overwhelm her expression. She rolled her eyes, and followed the directions.
The refugee house was... large. It was one of the tree buildings. The trunk was wide and the bark was like purple shingles. The branches were wide and, were it day, the purple leaves would've cast a tremendous amount of shade. At the base of the tree was a rectangular hole carved through it with care, and from within a bright yellow light poured onto the streets. Within, if the sentinels were correct, would be her parents.
Sara stopped right before the entrance and took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Then she floated inside.
It really was a refugee camp. While it wasn't layered with sleeping bags and crowded to the point of immobility, there were a lot of people in the rounded room, gathered into groups and chatting with each other quietly. At the chamber's top was a lit chandelier of intricate design. A stairwell wound up the side of the room, vanishing into an opening in the ceiling to what Sara could only assume was the second floor. The other end of the stairs went into a hole in the floor, deeper and deeper beyond her sight.
She'd leave checking underground for last.
Sara got a few looks as she levitated in, but she didn't care about those idiots. Only two people in this entire building mattered beyond herself and she was going to find them. Looking left and right rapidly, she scanned over the crowd of assorted Alliance mortals. When her search proved fruitless, she moved to the next level, and then the next.
Reluctantly, she had to give the kaldorei credit. They were great at working inside trees. There were cubbies to sleep in, balconies, even a kitchen working overtime. But she wasn't here to marvel. She was here to get her parents to Outland, where they'd be safe. She had to remember that.
Her stomach twisted inside of her. It slowly began to dawn on her that this would be the last time she ever saw them. For so long her parents had been a constant in her life and that was the one constant she wasn't willing to change. But her hands were tied, and she'd come too far. The Alliance military was probably on a headhunt for her, and she'd already bought and furnished the homes in Shattrath. She couldn't turn back.
She swallowed a tight knot in her throat and went to the fourth floor. There, after a moment of scanning across a few dozen unfamiliar faces, she saw Mom and Dad. They were engaged in idle conversation, sitting on a bench near the edge of the room. They were exactly like she remembered from her last visit. Mom was dressed in a fine white blouse, blue pants, and blue heels. Vibrant red hair was tied up in a bun, but there were lines of age around her eyes. Dad, like always, dwarfed her. His hair was black and slick, and with carefully groomed sideburns and a short beard, though if she looked closely there were flecks of silver in his hair. They hadn't seemed to notice her yet, so she took a deep breath.
Then she approached them, her heart threatening to pound right out of her chest. She hovered between a few other refugees, then stopped a short distance from them. Mom was angled so that Sara was in her eyesight, and Sara could tell she was spotted when her mother trailed off her conversation and looked at her.
"Hi Mom, hi Dad," she said weakly, willing herself to hover closer to the floor.
Mom gasped and rushed forward, wrapping her arms around Sara. Sara returned the hug and tried to squeeze, but a slight ache in her arms forced her to stop. "Oh honey! I'm so glad you're alright! We weren't expecting to see you."
Dad joined in, and the breath fled from Sara's lungs as his grip tightened. "Ach!" she croaked. "Too tight!" They both let go and moved to a respectful distance, letting Sara recover her breath. "Yeah, surprise," she said with a fragile smile. "Mom, Dad, listen. I need to talk to you, it's important." She leaned in. "Preferably where nobody else can hear," she whispered.
"Oh," Mom said. "It's that kind of important, hmm?" she asked. "Alright, let's go outside then."
"Thanks," she whispered, turning around and floating down the stairs, Mom and Dad following after her. She led them out of the building and to a little out of the way street with nobody in earshot. There, she pivoted in midair to face them.
"Honey, why are you floating?" Dad asked. Then he smiled wryly. "Ground not good enough for you?" he joked.
Sara looked down. "I got hurt, I can't walk now," she explained. Before the hurt on her parents' faces could transform into apologies, she continued. "Listen, this is really important. The war's going badly. I mean, horribly. If we keep going the way we are now we are not going to win. If we want this to work, someone has to do something drastic and I... um, I have an idea."
Her parents shared a look. "The news has been rather dire," Dad said. "But are you saying you can end this war, what, on your own? Sara, honey, I know you have a lot of magic but not that much."
"I know I don't," she said weakly. "But... okay. Before the war I went on expedition for my Archmage title. In the process I learned of a way. It would... I can't give you any details, but it's a ritual that would take an inch and go a mile. It would completely win the war on its own if I can cast it but... there's risk involved," she said. "To me, and even more to everyone else. That amount of magic could, um, backfire. The Legion would still lose, but we'd all lose too." I wouldn't, she thought. Provided her consciousness remained, but that was a risk she didn't have any control over. No sense worrying about it. "I-I can't stand the thought of hurting you two," she stammered, her stomach twisting in her gut. "I came here because we need to get out of Darnassus. Shattrath City, in Outland. It'd be safe," she explained. "I portaled over there a week ago to set things up."
"Sara, sweetie, calm down," Mom said, taking a step forward and placing a hand on her cheek. Sara stuttered to a stop. "Say it again but slower."
"I'm going to cast a spell to win this war, but it might really hurt everyone too. I bought a house in Shattrath City for you two, where it'll be safe. Time's running out though, we have to hurry," she pleaded.
Dad's eyes went wide. "You bought a house?"
"I bought a house," she explained.
"Sara," Mom said with a frown. "Did you steal money?"
It hurt because that wasn't an unreasonable guess. "No, I actually didn't. I kind of conjured raw materials for the war and sold them. A lot of very valuable ones. Um, I learned a lot on my expedition," she explained, dancing around an issue she didn't want to explain to them. "Please, let's go over there. And if you don't want to, we can always come back. But it wouldn't be safe at all and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I.. if I... " Her lungs were tight. By the void, why wasn't she getting any air?
"Shh, shh," Mom hushed. "Sara, it's alright. I understand what you're saying. But you're sure you have to do this? You don't have to be a he
ro."
I'm not going to be a hero, she thought. "I know, but I don't know what else to do. Kil'jaeden's already here. Stormwind's gone, and I was on Outland for a week so I don't even know if Ironforge is still intact," she explained, panic hammering in her chest. What if her parents refused? "Please, let me just show you," she pleaded.
Mom and Dad looked at each other and seemed to share a silent conversation. Then Dad looked at her. "Alright Sara. We'll take a look at what you've set up. Can you, um...?"
"Right!" she chirped, brightening. "Portal, on it." She wheeled around and began summoning her magic, twisting and manipulating her dark powers into the proper form. She still remembered the coordinates for Shattrath, and within moments the portal opened up, help open by hands. "I know it looks scary, but trust me, it's safe." She paused. "Going through's gonna feel weird though, so just brace yourself." She floated in, hoping her parents would trust her enough to follow. She slid down the tunnel of darkness and arrived, again, in the Terrace of Light.
A'dal's light scorched her, but the heat abated after just a moment. Sara backed away from the portal's entrance spot and waited, wringing her hands nervously.
Seconds later her mother popped into existence, black smoke briefly wafting off her. She stumbled forward, but steadied herself. Dad followed soon after, catching himself expertly. He looked around and whistled. "So, this is Shattrath?" His eyes went towards the naaru in the middle and widened. "And is that - "
She floated behind her parents and began pushing them to an exit, unwilling to stay in the fountain of Light longer than necessary. "Yes yes, let's go!" she said excitedly. She couldn't stop worrying. What if her parents didn't think the home was adequate? Or... or...
She led them through Shattrath. Their steps were unsteady and uneven thanks to the lower gravity. Her parents' heads swiveled around, taking in the sights with rapturous awe. Eventually she brought them down a slope to the Lower City, where their inspection continued like before. She tried her hardest to keep her breathing even, but she couldn't help but feel like they knew everything that worried her. Eventually though, they ended up at Eight Hundred Poros Road, at the house she'd bought for them to live in for the rest of their lives.
"Well, this is it," she said. From her pockets she fished out the key, a hexagonal piece of green metal in Shattrath's design. She floated forward and fit it into the lock, opening the door after a few moments of effort. "I hope you like it." Her parents walked in behind her, heads turning as they took in everything. They fanned out, looking over everything. The living room, the kitchen, the couches and chairs and such Sara had bought.
"There's an upstairs," she explained, floating towards the stairs. "I wasn't sure which room you'd want as a bedroom, so I just chose the biggest one." Mom and Dad joined her on the second floor. Sure enough, in the largest room was a king sized bed with golden blankets, stylized with the symbol of a naaru.
Eventually, they'd inspected everything, and Mom turned to her with astonishment written on her face, and a hand on her heart. "Sara, you bought all this? For us?"
She looked down. "Well, our house in Elwynn's kinda... blown up," she supplied. "And this place is safer than anywhere on Azeroth. Even if the Legion attacks here, the naaru have a plan to evacuate absolutely everyone to safety. Do you like it?"
They both came in and hugged her again. "It's wonderful, sweetie!" Dad said. "I can't believe you did all this for us." They pulled away, and he cracked a grin. "Normally it's the parent's job to get things for the kid, you know. You're doing everything in reverse!"
"So, you'll stay?" she asked hesitantly. "The deed's in the drawer there," she said, pointing to a corner. "It's already written out in your name and everything. Even if you choose not to use it, you own the house, entire thing. No mortgage, nothing."
Her parents huddled up and whispered to each other, their backs to her. Mom gestured wildly with her hands, but Dad was more composed. Finally, they turned back to her. "We'll stay here Sara, if it means that much to you," Mom said, moving to sit on a bright blue couch.
She nearly cried in relief, floating over to the same couch. Sara dispelled her levitation and flopped onto it, briefly flaring the pain in her legs. "Thank you so much," she gasped. "There's... there's more stuff in the drawers. A way to conjure the things I did without needing your own magic, some money, and a letter."
Dad opened said drawer and rifled through it. "This letter? To be opened in a month?" he asked, reading the envelope.
She shifted nervously. "There's some things I... don't feel comfortable saying, and if this fails..." That wasn't entirely true. If she succeeded, she would permanently shatter all contact between Outland and Azeroth in both directions. Her parents would never see her again, so the least she could do is tell them everything about herself. Every secret she'd performed with her magic, every trick, every secret of her origin. Just not in front of them. And a month would be more than enough for her plan to sink or swim.
Mom wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in. "I understand, honey. Now come on, I think I saw some groceries already in the kitchen, alright? Let me whip something up real quick, alright?"
She wanted to go back to Ironforge. She still felt time weighing down upon her, urgency strangling her, but she couldn't deny her parents. "Alright, Mom."
Her mother made fried Icefin, but there was only water to drink. They went to the dinner table and lit the candles, and if it weren't for the surrounding decor, Sara almost would've believed it to be just like old times, before she left for Stormwind to study magic. Waves of nostalgia crashed over her, but the uneasy kind where you feel it was best left in the past, and reliving it was just not right, like it was spoiling the memory. She and her parents made small talk, heavy talk, but eventually the lights shining onto Outland dimmed and it was decided she had to go.
She gave them both hugs and plenty of kisses on the cheek. She tried her absolute hardest not to cry. In all her life she'd only cried once, after being overwhelmed with the knowledge of her past life, and she wasn't eager for her parents to see the sort of mess she'd become. Sara tried to delay leaving, and so did her parents, with what must've been a dozen 'one more' goodbyes. But she couldn't put it off forever, and under cover of darkness she opened a portal to Ironforge.
Shrouded with a distraction aura, Sara gave a longing look at the house. Maybe she could've stayed. Forsake Azeroth. Get Leira, bring her here, and live in Outland. She had the skills and she had the means. Forget the millions who meant nothing. Or maybe get them to Outland and then join the Legion, as Talgath had tried to get her to do. But that would be running. That would be admitting defeat. As loathe as she was to obey it, A'dal told her to consider what those she cared about would want. They would want her to do something to be proud of. They wouldn't want her to leave millions for dead.
She entered the portal and exited in Ironforge. Sara found an isolated nook, and then she cried.
"A-Alright," she whispered. "Two down, one to go." At least Ironforge was still visibly intact. There was still time.
She drifted through at top speed. Sara didn't know if Leira was even in Ironforge. But it was fine. She could do this. And if Leira was, by some unfortunate turn of events, dead? Yogg-Saron wouldn't be able to hurt her, and the draenei would enjoy the Light's peace for eternity.
It took her two hours to weave through crowds and reach the Chimes of A'dal's guild hall. From there, it was a short trip to Leira's room. She tried to open it. Locked. She knocked. No response.
So Sara just had to wait.
... and wait. And wait.
Floating against a wall, she even got a few winks of restless sleep. Eventually though, she was stirred back to wakefulness by the sound of hooves on stone. She glanced down the hall and sure enough, there was Leira approaching with a key in her hands. Her black hair was matted with sweat and she just looked generally dead on her hooves. Sara forced down a bite of guilt. Leira could have plenty of rest once they were in Outl
and.
She moved to the side to let Leira pass, open the door, and close it behind her as she entered. The moment that happened, Sara relaxed her distraction aura and knocked.
"Oh for fuck's sake!" came the shout from within. The door opened with a clamor, revealing a furious warrior. "What is it now - Sara?" She drew back and blinked. "Holy shit, where have you been?!" she hissed, eyebrows contorting.
"Outland, it's a long story. Can I come in? I need to talk to you," she replied, putting the same urgency in her words as when she'd come here, not knowing who to turn to, after learning she was an Old God.
"Oookay..." she said, raising an eyebrow. Sara floated in and closed the door behind her. "What about?"
"Alright. I was in Outland because I bought you and my folks a house," she said bluntly. Leira's eyes bugged out. "No, I didn't mind control anyone. I conjured expensive stuff and sold it, okay? Maybe flooded the market a bit but that's the least of everyone's concerns."
"You... what? A house? Outland? Why?"
"Shattrath actually." There was no easy way to say this. Sara took a deep breath, floating high enough to be eye level with her friend. "Leira, I'm going to change back into Yogg-Saron."
A moment passed.
"What?! No, no no no no! Don't do that!" Leira waved her hands frantically, then collapsed onto her bed. "Why?!"
"You know why!" Sara countered. "Everything on this planet sucks! I know you told me to have faith but you know what? Sometimes faith is misplaced. The demons have gotten smarter, they know all our tricks. If I don't do this, everyone dies."
"If you do do this, everyone will wish they were dead," Leira said grimly.
"That's not for sure," she countered. "Anyway, the house is in Shattrath. It's safe there, with the naaru, and if the Legion ever decides to attack it they've got the Tempest Keep to evacuate everyone offworld."
Leira narrowed her eyes. "If you're not going to do horrible things, then why even bother with this?" she asked.
Sara hesitated, then fiddled with her fingers. "Because I... I might okay? I admit it, I might. If my consciousness is swallowed, I want you as far away from me as possible. If I'm not, then if I ever lose control and go back to how I was before... I'm hoping I can shut down the Dark Portal before that happens. Shut down any portals between the planets at all, really. Then it won't matter if I stop holding back."