Chapter 24
Ysera's rage at the sight of Xavius eclipsed any embarrassment she might have felt due to her current appearance. Her power surged in response to her fury, initiating her transformation. However, a sharp tug on all of her piercings shocked her, momentarily stunning her.

Observing this, Xavius erupted into uproarious laughter. "The great Ysera, nothing but a pet now," he taunted. He turned toward the Meddler. "Your doing, I presume? I must applaud you, stranger. I can sense your void essence, yet your identity eludes me. Care to introduce yourself? I am Xavius," he declared, gesturing around them. "And this is my contribution to our master's work."

The Meddler regarded Xavius with a raised eyebrow and a dismissive look, thoroughly unimpressed by his words. He shifted his attention to Ysera, his voice dripping with contempt. "Who is this chittering animal that presumes the right to address me?"

His words left Ysera and Merithra dumbfounded, unable to comprehend his attitude toward one of their greatest adversaries. Both women gazed at him wide-eyed. Sylvanas, however, rolled her eyes and regarded Xavius coldly, anticipating his growing anger and preparing for a potential attack.

"Animal? ANIMAL? You worthless wretch!" Xavius erupted, his fury evident. "I am the Nightmare Lord! I will cast this world into darkness. I was willing to extend cordiality, even welcome you as an ally, and this is how you treat me? I will make you serve me!" He seethed, poised to strike at them all.

The Meddler turned back towards Xavius, his expression still unimpressed. With a lazy wave of his hand, he effortlessly quelled Xavius's attempt to conjure magic, causing him to stumble back with widened eyes.

A sneer formed on the Meddler's face as he spoke, "Worms crawling in the dirt shouldn't dare raise their heads to gaze at the God above them." His words were accompanied by an oppressive pressure that enveloped them all. By the end, Xavius lay smashed into the ground, unable to move or lift his head.

Sensing the escalating pressure, Merithra quickly dropped to a knee and pulled her mother down with her. She didn't want to be caught in the Meddler's wrath. As for Sylvanas, though she felt the pressure, she let her own power rise and remained standing. Her narrowed eyes revealed her surprise; she had never witnessed this side of him before.

The only time she had felt his anger was when C'Thun had addressed him. It was apparent that he truly despised the Old Gods and their minions. Xavius, perceiving them as equals, had ignited his rage.

The Meddler extended his arm, and his power surrounded Xavius. All they could hear were the Nightmare Lord's agonized moans as his bones snapped and flesh contorted.

When Xavius was finally revealed, he looked like a grotesque parody of a four-legged creature, bearing a large throne on his back. Under its weight, Xavius remained on all fours.

"Much better," the Meddler declared, sniffing imperiously. He levitated towards the throne, before gazing at Sylvanas and levitating her to him and placed her on his lap in the newly formed throne. Initially taken aback, Sylvanas eventually rolled her eyes and put her arm around his shoulders, leaning into him. Meanwhile, he wrapped his arm around her back and caressed her thigh with his other hand.

He turned toward the kneeling Ysera and Merithra before issuing a command. "Come, this place disgusts me. I wish to be done here." With a swift strike to the transformed Xavius, he commenced his departure, carrying both the Meddler and Sylvanas away.

Merithra and Ysera understood the fortune of their circumstances, relieved that all he sought from them was mere lechery. Glancing back at the transformed Xavius, they could discern his eyes filled with rage and fear, while his mouth remained completely sealed shut. It was clear that the Meddler had no desire to hear anything more from him.

~~~~

As they ventured deeper into the corrupted Dream, Ysera observed the corruption being siphoned and absorbed by the Meddler, evidently augmenting his power even further.

She found herself uncertain why both she and Merithra were present here anymore. It was evident that he had no need for them. He hadn't even acknowledged their presence, simply reclining on his throne and, at some point, engaging in intimate behavior with Sylvanas.

Despite this, they were hesitant to provoke him by trying to leave. A part of Ysera was intrigued to witness how this would unfold. Occasionally, her gaze would flit towards the transformed state of Xavius, sending a shiver down her spine.

Deeper they walked, encountering an even more pervasive spread of the Nightmare than Ysera had anticipated. Nevertheless, witnessing its eradication offered her some solace, even if it meant enduring personal humiliation.

"I am sorry, Mother," Merithra whispered softly. Ysera turned to her daughter, sensing her remorse, and offered a gentle smile. "It's alright, my child. If it means seeing this corruption removed, enduring this small discomfort is a small price to pay."

As they approached the World Tree Andrassil, she finally grasped their destination: the very root of the corruption. Yet, she pondered over how he intended to confront it. Ysera had no doubt that the Old-Gods were now aware of his betrayal and would resist his efforts. Even though he wielded the power of one of their own, it seemed he had shared it with Sylvanas, depriving him of full access to its might. His plan couldn't rely solely on brute strength unless he had devised a distraction akin to what he did with C'Thun.

As they halted before the corrupted World Tree, the Meddler dismounted from his new mount. With a negligent wave of his hand, he ended Xavius's life and absorbed his power.

His narrowed eyes fixated on the World Tree as he scanned the area. Spotting remnants of lingering corruption, he extended his arms, drawing it all towards himself. Soon, the only remaining corrupted part in the Emerald Dream was the World Tree.

"This is going to be annoying," he muttered, plopping down and striking the ground so his fist was submerged. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled, causing a surge of power to radiate outward.

Ysera and Merithra cautiously stepped back, alarmed by the power surging out. Yet, it seemed the energy wasn't directed at anything specific; it simply overflowed from the Meddler in an uncontrolled buildup. Ysera turned her attention to Sylvanas, only to find her collapsed on the ground, unconscious. Concerned, she knelt by her side, trying to comprehend what was happening.

Merithra's hand landed on Ysera's shoulder with a force that conveyed both urgency and fear. "Mother, we need to leave—now," she urgently whispered, her voice tinged with an unmistakable dread.

Ysera's eyes widened as she gazed upon the roiling corruption emanating from the World Tree. Its tendrils stretched outwards, distorting the once serene landscape of the Dream. She hesitated, weighing the urgency of Merithra's plea against the impending danger.

Before they could make a move, the Meddler's voice thundered through the turmoil. "You are not going anywhere. Come here." His command reverberated with a raw urgency that brooked no defiance. Fear gripped Ysera's heart as she watched the corruption surge, tendrils of darkness lashing out.

"Pour the magic of the Dream into me so that I can take control of this tree," the Meddler commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos. Ysera's instincts screamed against it, but the overwhelming surge of darkness from the corrupted Andrassil forced her hand.

Reluctantly, they knelt behind him, Ysera's hands quivering as she channeled the Dream's magic. Waves of energy coursed through her, each surge draining her essence, yet she pressed on, driven by desperation.

The ground quaked as the corruption spread, blackened veins snaking across the once-lush landscape. Ysera's heart raced in panic as the decay crept closer, almost consuming them. With sheer determination, she continued channeling the Dream's energy, her very being straining against the overwhelming darkness.

Andrassil, once a majestic symbol of life, now withered and decayed, the source of darkness slowly waning. Ysera's vision blurred, her strength waning with each passing moment.

In a desperate struggle, the Meddler strained against the immense power within the tree. His efforts were evident as sweat beaded on his forehead, his expression a mask of fierce concentration. It was a battle of wills, an unfathomable force against an unstoppable darkness.

Merithra, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of power, collapsed, her body unable to withstand the magical exertion. Ysera gritted her teeth, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders.

Andrassil, once an epicenter of life, now relinquished its grasp on the Dream, the darkness finally subsiding. Ysera's heart swelled with both relief and trepidation as the corrupting energy dissipated.

In a final burst of energy, she released the Dream's magic into the Meddler, feeling herself losing consciousness. As her eyes closed, she witnessed the cataclysmic demise of Andrassil—the colossal explosion ripping through the Dream, leaving behind only a gaping void where the World Tree had once stood, a testament to its tragic fall.

~~~~

As the tree was destroyed, he fell back on his back, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, attempting to subdue the power he had stolen from both Yogg-Saron and N'Zoth, their rage and threats still echoing in his head.

Fortunately, none of their essence was contained in the power he drained from them, so he had no need to eradicate it as he had with C'Thun. Unknown to anyone but him, he had been close to losing that struggle, believing that splintering C'Thun's will with the arrow Sylvanas pierced him with before he consumed it would make it easier to deal with him.

Sadly for him, it seems even fragmented, the parasite still possessed tremendous willpower and a desire for control. He had to offload a lot of C'Thun's power to Sylvanas just so that he could weaken it enough where dealing with the fragments was made easier.

This time, his problem came not from wills, but the simple differences in the power of both Yogg-Saron and N'Zoth. While both of them were similar, their power had diverged over the eons, gaining different properties almost.

Fortunately, he could use the power he gained from C'Thun to purge any influence the power carried and absorb it. His body began to crack open, and his power began to leak out as his form became unstable.

His chosen vessel was simply not strong enough to contain the power he now wielded. Painfully, he extended his hand towards Sylvanas and began pouring back the power he took from her before. As more and more power flowed into her, it became easier to control the remaining power.

Still, he had to cut off pouring any more magic into her once he felt her own vessel was close to its limit. As the magic began to settle, he began to make changes to his vessel.

Using the magic of the dream still floating within him, he poured it into strengthening his vessel, healing it, and changing it so that it could contain his new power and even more.

As his body grew stronger, he began to breathe easier as the pain caused by overwhelming power passed, and the magic of the dream healed him.

Gazing at Ysera, he smirked, knowing that exploiting her daughter would bring her. While Merithra was no slouch in the power department, the power she could provide paled in comparison to what he could extract from Ysera.

Laying on the cool floor, allowing himself to rest, his gaze settled on Sylvanas. She would need to be empowered as well; her body must be able to contain more power; otherwise, he would not be able to use her as storage for the excess he could not contain.

A smirk appeared on his face. Fortunately for him, he knew exactly the person to approach for this. It was time he and Alexstrasza had a little talk; he had not forgotten her uppity attitude back in Silithus.
 
Chapter 25
As Alexstrasza stood atop the frozen mountaintops of Coldarra, the biting chill of the icy winds swept past her, carrying with it the crisp, invigorating air of the high peaks. With a deep breath, she filled her lungs with the bracing cold, the freshness of the high-altitude atmosphere a stark contrast to the turmoil within her.

From her vantage point, she observed members of Malygos' flight soaring across the sky, their forms silhouetted against the distant backdrop of the Nexus. Within its ancient, shimmering structure lay a fount of pure arcane magic, a source of power that once held a different significance—now corrupted by her brother's descent into madness.

Sadness and a sense of resignation gripped her heart. She was slowly coming to terms with what she knew she would have to do, a burden that weighed heavily upon her, more so than any physical weight she'd ever carried.

Amidst the swirling flight of dragons, Arygos's form caught her eye. Her son Caelestrasz feared she might intend to harm Arygos, but she had no such intentions. She possessed enough power and control to ensure that Arygos wouldn't divulge any forbidden knowledge—there was no need for violence or coercion.

Yet, the worry about the potential consequences of her actions lingered. She hoped fervently that Merithra and Ysera wouldn't act recklessly. She had already stirred the creature with her own missteps; she didn't want anyone else to suffer due to her mistake. The weight of responsibility rested heavily upon her shoulders, a mantle she bore with a heavy heart.

She couldn't shake off the memory of the day she made the deal with the creature. The sweet whispers that had promised her freedom, safety, and unparalleled power echoed in her mind. In moments of quiet contemplation like this, she often found herself replaying the scene, the vivid recollection of that fateful day.

~~~~

Within the confines of her prison, Alexstrasza, the Dragonqueen, found herself at the mercy of her captors yet again. The mocking, gravelly voice of her warden echoed through the dimly lit chamber, each word a cruel reminder of her captivity. Wearily, she lifted her head, the toll of her prolonged imprisonment etched into the lines of her once regal visage.

The imprisonment had taken a toll not just on her physical form but also on her spirit. Endless cycles of pregnancies and births had left her drained, the experience a relentless cycle of pain and suffering. However, it wasn't her own anguish that gnawed at her soul the most; it was the fate of her offspring.

Each birth she bore brought with it a tormenting realization — the fate of her children, their bright spirits and indomitable wills shattered and twisted until they were naught but enslaved beasts. The helplessness she felt, unable to shield her children from this cruel fate, was a searing agony that haunted her every moment.

Her rage simmered beneath the surface, a tempest of fury and anguish held in check by the chains that bound her. She yearned to retaliate, to break free from her captivity and unleash her wrath upon those who dared to hold her captive. Yet the Dragon Soul, that ancient artifact wielded by the Orcs, held her in thrall, ensuring her compliance.

The artifact, once a beacon of hope and a symbol of protection for Azeroth, had been twisted into a weapon against her and her kin. The betrayal of Neltharion, who succumbed to corruption and turned against his own kind, had turned this once-mighty talisman into a shackle that bound her will.

Surrounded by the oppressive silence of her confinement, Alexstrasza's thoughts were consumed by a potent mixture of anger, despair, and a lingering spark of hope. Her desire for freedom burned within her, yet with each passing moment, it seemed to dim. The weight of her helplessness pressed down upon her, casting a shadow over any flicker of optimism she clung to.

The chamber, devoid of warmth or comfort, served as a stark reminder of her plight. The cold, stone walls seemed to amplify the sense of captivity, and the faint echoes of her captors' jeering voices reverberated through the air. Trapped within this grim sanctuary, she yearned for the day when she could break free and reclaim her rightful place among the skies, as the indomitable Dragonqueen.

"An uppity little wretch, isn't he?" A voice infused with dark amusement cut through the air, drawing Alexstrasza's weary gaze. Her eyes turned towards the source of the mocking voice, and there stood a peculiarly dressed man. He seemed out of place in this dim and desolate chamber, an oddity beside Nekros Skullcrusher, her most loathed jailer.

The man's attire struck an odd contrast against the grimness of the surroundings. His clothing bore an air of eccentricity, standing out starkly amidst the shadowed corners and stone walls of the prison. A mixture of amusement and something far more insidious lurked within his eyes, an unsettling combination that sent a shiver down Alexstrasza's spine.

Next to him, Nekros Skullcrusher stood tall, a brutish figure radiating an aura of malevolence. His presence in her confinement served as a constant reminder of the cruelty she endured at the hands of the Horde, a stark embodiment of her captivity.

The oddity of the situation struck her — this man, a stranger with an air of strangeness, standing alongside one of her most despised tormentors. What brought these two together in her grim prison cell was a puzzle she dared not unravel, her focus consumed by the unsettling presence of these unexpected visitors.

Despite the weariness etched into her features, Alexstrasza's eyes held a spark of defiance. Her spirit, though weakened by captivity, refused to yield entirely to the despair that threatened to engulf her. She stared back at the peculiar man and her jailer, her gaze a mix of weariness, apprehension, and a simmering defiance that flickered within her emerald eyes.

Yet amidst the disquieting atmosphere, Alexstrasza detected an unnerving anomaly. Nekros, her hulking jailer, remained utterly motionless, not even a blink disrupting his unyielding stare. In that eerie moment, a realization struck her with an unsettling certainty—time had frozen, held in a stagnant pause.

Her brother Nozdormu, the Timeless One, held dominion over temporal manipulation, an ability far beyond her purview. However, even to her, a creature not attuned to the intricacies of time, the absolute stillness in the air was unmistakable.

Everything stood suspended in an unearthly limbo. Dust motes hovered in a timeless dance, the flickering torchlight cast a motionless glow, and the very breaths Alexstrasza drew seemed to hang in the air, arrested in an unyielding grip.

Confusion and trepidation mingled within her as she glanced between Nekros, the peculiarly dressed man, and the petrified surroundings. The mysterious stranger's grin widened, a chilling expression that seemed unaffected by the temporal stasis. He stood there, a harbinger of uncertainty, an enigma within the stagnant tableau that held her confined.

Her gaze pierced through the frozen tableau, fixing upon the peculiarly dressed man with a mix of suspicion and desperate hope. To wield such mastery over time was an art reserved for beings far beyond the mortal realm. A surge of curiosity mingled with her mounting concern, pondering the stranger's motives and the potential of this uncanny intervention.

Amidst her endless cycle of captivity, a glimmer of hope ignited within her chest. Could this temporal disruption serve as an opportunity to shatter her chains and escape the relentless grip of her imprisonment? The mere thought lifted her spirits, sparking a flicker of optimism in an otherwise bleak existence.

However, caution tempered her burgeoning hope. The man's presence exuded an air of ominous intent, an unsettling foreboding that tingled down her spine. She grappled with the complexity of her situation—caught between the tantalizing prospect of liberation and the unknown motives of this temporal interloper.

The human's twisted grin, stretching impossibly wide, sent a shiver down Alexstrasza's spine. Though his visage bore the veneer of malevolence, an uncanny aura emanated from him—void of malice, yet brimming with an insatiable hunger that seemed to devour the very essence of the moment. In that eerie grin, she read not malevolence but an overwhelming craving—for power, control, dominion.

The faint glimmer of hope that had sparked within her moments ago dimmed as swiftly as it ignited. The realization crashed over her like a relentless wave against the shore—she was to be passed from one master to another, an unwilling pawn in the ceaseless game of dominance and subjugation.

Resignation tempered the flickering flame of hope, casting her back into the bleak reality of her unending captivity. With a heavy heart and growing despair, she prepared herself for yet another master—a different captor, but still trapped within the endless cycle of imprisonment and subjugation.

"Mah, mah… no need to look so down," the stranger cooed in a tone meant to soothe, stepping forward to materialize beside her head. His gentle, almost affectionate caress felt oddly calming against her scales, offering an unexpected tenderness that clashed with the dire situation.

In spite of her wariness, she found herself strangely drawn to the contact, yearning for any semblance of gentleness amid her torment. The brief respite from pain and the faint flicker of comfort it brought was a cruel tease, but she couldn't help but silently savor the fleeting reprieve, even though she knew it was a dangerous mistake.

"Much better," he softly murmured, resting his head on her snout while his hands caressed her weathered scales. As the Dragonqueen began to relax, preparing to drift into a semblance of rest, a sudden surge of unease jolted her awake—she sensed the presence of the Void!

Her eyes snapped open, a fierce glare directed toward the shadowy figure that had appeared before her. Instinctively, she lunged forward, her jaws poised to strike at the voidspawn, determined not to succumb as Neltharion had. But before she could clamp down, the creature vanished into the Void, evading her grasp.

"What do you want, voidborn!" she snarled, her voice reverberating within the confines of her prison as she strained against her chains in frustration.

The stranger's face twisted into a sour expression as he began to dust off imaginary specks from his form. He glanced back at her, a bored demeanor enveloping him. "How rude. Here I am, attempting to approach you with kindness and gentleness, and you attempt to chomp on me. Is that how you treat everyone who comes offering you freedom?" His tone ended in a mockingly exaggerated pout.

Alexstrasza was taken aback by the stranger's words, her initial surprise quickly giving way to skepticism. She couldn't bring herself to believe even an iota of what was being suggested, no matter how much she wished she could.

A plume of smoke curled from her nostrils, the fire within her burning in indignation. "I will not be your toy, creature," she retorted firmly, her voice tinged with both defiance and anger.

The stranger raised a quizzical eyebrow and shot a glance at Nekros. Then, returning his attention to Alexstrasza, an expression of profound disappointment crossed his face. He shook his head slowly, an air of disbelief clouding his features.

"Really? I mean, to each his own, but… really?" His tone dripped with disappointment, as if her refusal somehow betrayed a deeper expectation. Looking directly at her now, his gaze carried an almost soul-crushing sadness. "I expected better of you, Alexstrasza," he murmured, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

Initially struck by confusion, Alexstrasza stood dumbfounded, not immediately comprehending the implications of the creature's words. However, as the implications dawned on her, a fierce roar of anger tore from her chest. "Enough!" she thundered, her voice echoing through the chamber. "Enough of your jests, creature. Why are you here?"

A smirk crept across the stranger's face, a sly and taunting expression. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again—I'm here to grant you freedom," he declared with a self-assured tone. From within his pocket, he produced something that sent a shiver down Alexstrasza's spine—the Dragon Soul, an artifact entwined with history and power that had wrought both hope and despair.

Her eyes widened in shock and recognition as the artifact dangled from the chain the stranger held between his fingers. "And not just freedom," he continued, his voice tinged with a tantalizing allure, "but power as well. After all, what kind of Dragonqueen doesn't hold dominion over her own kin?" He swung the chain gently, the Dragon Soul shimmering faintly in the dim light.

His words echoed within the chamber, teasing Alexstrasza with promises of might beyond measure. "Imagine, Alexstrasza, Queen of Dragons," he teased, "wielding the combined might of all five Dragonflights."

The implications of his offer sparked a storm of emotions within Alexstrasza—anger, skepticism, and a glimmer of temptation. The mere prospect of such immense power and freedom from her captivity ignited a conflict within her, a battle between the desire for liberation and the suspicion of the stranger's intentions.

As the stranger dangled the artifact before her, its ancient magic seemed to pulsate, a tangible representation of the freedom and authority it offered. Yet, Alexstrasza remained wary, well aware of the implications and potential consequences of wielding such immense power.

Her narrowed gaze fixated on the creature before her, despite her inner desire to clamp her mouth shut, the words escaped with a strained edge. "And what would it cost me?" she gritted out, sensing the widening of the creature's grin—a clear indication she had unwittingly stepped into its trap.

The enigmatic being averted its gaze, as if peering at something unseen, all the while casually swinging the Dragon Soul in a disturbingly nonchalant manner. "Tell me… what do you know of the Old-Gods?" It tilted its head, the grin persisting, yet within its eyes flickered an unmistakable anger that clashed with its outward demeanor.

Within the tense silence that followed, the air crackled with an unsettling anticipation. The creature's unsettling grin was a stark contrast to the intensity that simmered behind its eyes. And despite the command it wielded with the Dragon Soul, Alexstrasza couldn't shake off the sense that the creature's motives ran deeper than mere information-seeking. There was something far more intricate at play, something that made her tread warily within the confinements of her captive state.

"Enough," she replied with a hint of weariness, not willing to engage in a discussion about those ancient horrors. To her, they were just another evil looming over this world, among the many that burdened its existence.

The creature snorted dismissively, its tone almost mocking. "How would you like them... to... disappear?" Its offer hung tantalizingly in the air as it teleported to her side, its whisper a chilling breath against her ear. Alexstrasza froze at its words, her eyes widening as a torrent of conflicting thoughts surged within her.

Slowly, she turned her head to gaze at the enigmatic creature, confusion evident in her eyes. "Freedom... power... safety… all that in exchange for helping me kill those wretched parasites."" The creature's voice was a soft murmur, initially gentle, almost seductive, but it concluded with a malicious edge, its anger unmistakable.

She felt a mix of emotions stir within her—doubt, curiosity, and a lingering sense of caution. The prospect of freedom and the promise of safety were alluring, yet the conditions attached to this offer raised suspicion within her heart. It seemed too good to be true, and her instincts warred with the tempting proposal presented by this mysterious entity.

The weight of the creature's words lingered in the air, swirling around her like a compelling but unsettling melody. It was as if fate itself dangled before her, presenting a choice she hadn't realized she had. Her gaze remained fixed on the being before her, seeking answers and weighing the potential consequences of such a pact.

The gravity of the situation was palpable as she contemplated this unexpected offer, her mind racing with possibilities and uncertainties. Alexstrasza's expression betrayed the turmoil within—an amalgamation of curiosity, trepidation, and an underlying wariness that urged her to tread cautiously in the face of this tempting proposition.

~~~~

Alexstrasza heaved a heavy sigh, abruptly halting her wandering thoughts as she sensed a familiar presence materialize behind her. Her heart sank with a mix of dread and anticipation; the Meddler's ascension in power had surpassed her expectations. Was he here to exact retribution for her past naivety?

Swiveling around, her brow furrowed in apprehension as she beheld an unconscious High Elf, cradled within the Meddler's arms. It took a fleeting moment for recognition to dawn upon her – Sylvanas, the impetuous soul ensnared in the same trap as herself.

While she scrutinized him, the Meddler fashioned himself a throne, taking a seat with Sylvanas positioned in his lap. As he settled into his newfound perch, his gaze shifted towards Alexstrasza. After a contemplative moment, a smug smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

A collar and chain abruptly manifested around Alexstrasza's neck, catching her off guard and wrenching her down onto her knees, a binding that subdued her innate power. Gazing up at him, a fusion of fury and frustration boiled within her, confronted by his self-satisfied and haughty demeanor. "Much better," he mumbled, reclining leisurely in his throne, toying with the unconscious form of Sylvanas. "Now... there is something I need you to do, my dear."

The Meddler's imperious command hung in the air, an ominous portent of things to come, leaving Alexstrasza seething with anger and a growing sense of helplessness.
 
Chapter 26
Rising from the ground, the Meddler erected a throne for himself, settling into it once his body had regained composure and the searing pain had dissipated. His eyes roved over the unconscious forms of Ysera and Merithra, a pensive expression gracing his features.

However, after a fleeting moment, he dismissed his interest in them and redirected his gaze toward the still-unconscious Sylvanas. Furrowing his brow at the awkward position in which she had fallen, he gestured casually, causing her limp body to hover towards him. As she reached him, he gently arranged her form, cradling her against his chest and allowing her to rest comfortably across his lap.

His attention momentarily shifted toward the gaping void left behind by the obliterated Andrassil. Yet, despite his outward focus on the physical realm, his gaze seemed distant, as if peering into a realm only he comprehended, pondering matters known only to him.

A low groan pulled the Meddler's attention. Lazily turning his eyes toward the sound, he observed Ysera starting to regain consciousness. She was still weak and fatigued from the draining of her power. Resting his head upon his knuckles, he silently watched her slow awakening.

His expression remained devoid of any lechery or visible interest. His gaze simply fixated on her, observing her gradual return to awareness. As Ysera stirred, shaking off the remnants of drowsiness, her eyes fell upon the vast emptiness that once housed the corrupted World Tree, Andrassil—a gaping void now occupying the landscape.

Shock washed over her, her eyes widening, mouth agape in disbelief. An abrupt realization struck her, and she hastily pivoted, frantically scanning her surroundings. Yet, upon spotting the Meddler, her movements froze, locking onto his calm, unyielding gaze.

In the face of his emotionless expression, her initial panic subsided, but an underlying tension still gripped her. Her eyes twitched as they repeatedly darted between him and her surroundings, every muscle tensing beneath her skin. She felt like a hunted prey, caught under the unflinching stare of a relentless predator.

Stuck in a state of defiance and inability to flee, Ysera's breaths quickened, growing deeper and more erratic. Her jaw clenched tightly, her body on edge. However, the tension shifted suddenly when the Meddler flashed a smile—a shift that transformed the atmosphere entirely.

Ysera gasped for air, her heart racing, feeling the fading rush of adrenaline that had kept her on edge. Confusion enveloped her as she struggled to comprehend the abrupt shift in dynamics and emotions.

"Tell me, Ysera. Do you know what separates men from lesser men? Predator from prey?" The Meddler's voice cut through the silence, his gaze fixed upon her with an air of nonchalance.

Ysera narrowed her eyes, puzzled by his cryptic inquiry and its relevance to the situation at hand.

A sinister grin crept across the Meddler's face, distorting his features into a grotesque visage. His tongue extended unnaturally, lolling from his mouth and twisting erratically.

"Fear," he intoned, his voice now deep, echoing, and discordant. The word reverberated, leaving Ysera uncertain if it was spoken aloud or merely resounded within her mind. A wave of confusion and distress washed over her, prompting her to clutch her head, her eyes blinking heavily.

"Predators can smell it, and leave when they don't," he concluded in a normal tone, the nightmarish countenance fading away. However, the haunting image lingered in her mind's eye, persisting despite its vanishing from the physical realm.

With that unsettling exchange concluded, he vanished into thin air, along with Sylvanas and the throne he had been seated upon. Ysera was left grappling with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, finding herself bewildered by the cryptic encounter. She remained unsure why he had specifically chosen to share those words with her. However, it solidified in her mind the undeniable truth that the creature was not one to be taken lightly or underestimated.

A low groan drew Ysera's attention towards Merithra's gradual awakening. She hurried over to her daughter's side, extending a hand to assist her in rising to her feet. Observing Merithra's slowly clearing eyes, a sudden realization struck Ysera, reminding her of an important detail she had overlooked – the Meddler had not removed the peculiar 'outfits' he had placed on them.

As Ysera tried to remove the piercings, she encountered strong resistance. They stubbornly held their place, even sending sharp, warning shocks through the piercings as if to deter any further attempts at removal.

~~~~

As the Meddler gazed at the kneeling and collared Alexstrasza, a thousand thoughts and emotions raced across his mind. Yet, none could be discerned on his face, which remained completely blank, devoid of any emotion or expression.

Within him, conflicting emotions surged and clashed. Some parts of him raged and clamored for retribution against her uppity arrogance and actions. Meanwhile, other facets desired to exert control in different ways, to bind and keep her as a mere pet. These thoughts and more swirled within him like a maelstrom until he forcefully suppressed them all.

Throughout this internal struggle, Alexstrasza simply gazed back at him, her face devoid of fear or anger, exhibiting only quiet acceptance. It was this serene demeanor that finally twisted the Meddler's countenance, allowing a glare to surface.

"Don't you dare look at me like that!" he growled with a voice laden with anger, raising the arm not occupied in holding Sylvanas. Void magic gathered there, amassing enough power to obliterate the entire Coldarra and all upon or near it.

This action finally changed Alexstrasza's look to one of panic and fear, further fueling the Meddler's rage. "You dare!?" He roared at her, incensed beyond belief, his power escalating and transforming the day into night. His form broke completely, morphing into a horrific monster larger than the entire Coldarra, glaring down at Alexstrasza with pure anger.

"I will endure your insult no longer! I will rend this world apart, and the screams of those who dared defy me will echo in eternity! The skies will darken with my wrath, and the lands will crumble beneath my fury. There will be no sanctuary, no refuge from my vengeance. Every corner of this realm will bear witness to the havoc I shall unleash!"

His voice reverberated across the skies, causing the ground to tremble beneath his feet. The air crackled with dark energy as he continued, his eyes blazing with an unholy light.

"Behold the cataclysm I shall bring forth! Your precious lands will burn, your cherished homes will be reduced to ash. The mightiest kingdoms will fall, and your allies will cower in terror. And you, Alexstrasza, will watch as everything you hold dear is reduced to ruins, your spirit broken by the devastation I'll inflict upon this world!"

The atmosphere grew heavy with the threat of impending doom as his monstrous form exuded an aura of overwhelming power. The sheer magnitude of his rage and the promise of unparalleled destruction hung in the air like a foreboding storm, leaving a chilling silence in its wake.

Amid this intense confrontation, Alexstrasza, her eyes ablaze with fury and determination, summoned forth the combined might of the Dragonflights she had long concealed within her. The air crackled with intense energy as her form radiated a brilliant, multi-hued light, each scale shimmering with the essence of the Dragonflights she now channeled.

From her majestic form erupted flames of crimson, emerald lightning, ethereal purple arcane, golden sand, and earthly aura, swirling around her in a tempestuous display of raw power. The very ground shook beneath the weight of her unleashed might as she soared towards the monstrous entity that had dared threaten her.

Her roar echoed across the skies, a symphony of elemental forces converging around her in a magnificent display of unity. The heavens themselves seemed to bow to her presence, acknowledging her as the embodiment of all Dragonflights combined.

With each beat of her wings, a tempest formed, each breath she took unleashed the full fury of the elemental forces she commanded. Her eyes, blazing orbs of determination, locked onto the raging creature before her, a testament to the unyielding strength and resilience that the dragons possessed.

"You have underestimated the might I wield as the Queen of Dragons," she declared with an unwavering voice resonating authority. "Your threats will be quenched by the strength of my flame, your darkness scattered by the brilliance of my singular essence. I am the guardian of Azeroth, and I shall never yield to your chaos."

The convergence of all Dragonflights within her imbued Alexstrasza with overwhelming power, a force that surged forth to combat the monstrous being that had dared challenge her. The skies ignited with the clash of titanic forces as Alexstrasza and the amalgamation of Dragonflight powers collided with the rampaging entity.

And in an instant, the massive magic and creatures wielding it vanished. Alexstrasza collapsed forward as the chain holding the collar at her neck disappeared.

As she gazed around, she saw no destruction, no sign of the impending battle. She was left in dumbfounded confusion, unable to comprehend what had just transpired.

"Never insult me like that again, Alexstrasza. I did not grant you all that power, only for you to submit as soon as a small challenge arises." The Meddler's voice held remnants of anger. It was now clear to her – it was an illusion, a construct of the mind.

The Meddler gently grasped her chin, turning her head to face him. His anger had cooled, replaced by disappointment. "You are Alexstrasza, the Queen of Dragons. I will not tolerate weakness from you, no matter the enemy's strength. I expect you to sneer at their pitiful challenge and obliterate them, tearing them limb from limb as they scream and beg for mercy."

His soft and passionate words resonated with her. "And should you fall, I expect you to defy Death and return. Even if it takes a thousand tries – You. Will. Triumph."

As he finished his command, there was no doubt that it was an order. He kissed her, momentarily startling her. For a second, she almost submitted, but his words echoed in her mind, and she met his challenge head-on, engaging in a battle for dominance.

~~~~

As Sylvanas regained consciousness, she found herself surrounded by an unfamiliar environment. Confusion swirled within her mind as she attempted to piece together her recent memories. The last coherent recollection was the Meddler's assault in the Dream, a moment when she felt her strength draining away. Her eyes narrowed with frustration and she recalled the sense of vulnerability that had overcome her.

Rising with trembling limbs, she hesitantly examined her hands, half-expecting to find them devoid of power. To her astonishment, not only did she retain her abilities, but she felt an amplification of the power coursing through her. A bewildered silence lingered in her attempts to understand the sudden resurgence of her abilities. She felt adrift, lost in a sea of uncertainties, devoid of any clear purpose or direction.

In the midst of her disorientation, her gaze fell upon the Meddler, who was engaged in an intimate embrace with another figure. An unexpected pang of betrayal pierced through her. She ground her teeth in a mixture of anger and hurt, her eyes blazing with a sense of indignation and fury. Disgust washed over her as she watched them, a sense of being cast aside overwhelming her.

Driven by the surge of emotions, she instinctively summoned the power she had at her command, allowing it to envelop her. With a sense of determination and anger fueling her actions, she cloaked herself in its shroud, using its energies to vanish from the scene.
 
Thank you for the chappy!

Sylvanas is pissed!
MC going to learn the meaning of 'Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Scorned'.
 
Chapter 27
As Sylvanas departed in a flurry of anger, the Meddler disengaged from the intimate embrace with Alexstrasza, noticing the wide-eyed astonishment etched across her face. His eyebrow raised in amusement at her startled expression.

A chuckle bubbled up from deep within him, and despite Alexstrasza's immediate response—a series of embarrassed slaps directed at him—he found it impossible to stifle his laughter. The bewildered look on her face only served to fuel his amusement, and he continued to chuckle heartily, the sound echoing through the surroundings.

After a moment, his laughter subsided, and he swiftly intercepted Alexstrasza's hand as it moved to strike him again. His expression remained impassive as he held her hand firmly, deterring her from any further action.

"Don't push it," he stated, his tone devoid of emotion, yet carrying a weighty warning. His grip loosened, allowing her hand to slip free, and he raised his own hand to gently caress her face. "I allowed it to slide once, but let not your memory falter on what I am."

The touch felt both delicate and intimidating, a juxtaposition that emphasized his unpredictable nature. His gaze held hers, devoid of any particular emotion, yet carrying an implicit message that hinted at the potential consequences of testing his patience further.

Having made his point, he pivoted on his heels and strode back to the throne that Sylvanas had partially destroyed in her uncontrolled outburst of void magic. Skillfully reconstructing it with a wave of his hand, he settled into the seat with a tired slouch.

Resting his elbows on the armrests, he massaged his temples, contemplating the recent events. Despite his usual nonchalant demeanor, there was a trace of weariness in his posture, hinting at the intricacies of his thoughts.

Alexstrasza stood in silence, her gaze fixed upon the Meddler. Her eyes roamed the surroundings briefly, and a frown formed on her brow as she noticed Sylvanas was nowhere to be found. This absence triggered a sense of concern within her, prompting her to intensify her scrutiny of the situation.

With a bored expression, the Meddler interjected, dismissing Sylvanas's departure. "Don't worry about her. She got all prissy seeing us making out," he said casually, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Honestly, I was surprised it took her so long. She had become such a wallflower that I was genuinely concerned I might have to get rid of her," he mused, more to himself than to Alexstrasza. His nonchalant attitude toward Sylvanas's reaction revealed his disregard for her departure.

With a clenched jaw and a penetrating glare, Alexstrasza retorted sharply, her tone laced with disdain. "Typical of your kind, isn't it? Using others as mere pawns in your game, then discarding them like worthless tokens." Her words dripped with a mixture of frustration and scorn as she expressed her disdain for his manipulative ways.

The Meddler retorted by sticking his tongue out in a childish gesture. "You're really pushing my buttons. Do you want me to beat you? Are you some kind of masochist?" His eyes narrowed, the gap between his eyelids tightening to the smallest measure. "I wonder... did those Orcs turn you into a painslut or something?"

His tone carried both mockery and an undercurrent of something more sinister, implying a deeper disdain and a deliberate attempt to provoke or unsettle her. The flicker of his eyes and the taunting quality of his words revealed a disdainful edge, as if he was relishing the chance to mock her predicament and past experiences.

As Alexstrasza gritted her teeth in frustration, preparing to issue a retort, the Meddler swiftly flicked his hand. Instantly, an unseen force enveloped her, silencing her as a gag materialized over her mouth. Simultaneously, her entire body became ensnared in a binding force, causing her to stumble and collapse to the ground.

She struggled against the sudden restraints, her eyes flaring with indignation and her attempts to speak muffled by the magical gag. The Meddler observed her predicament with an impassive expression, seemingly unperturbed by her defiance as he continued to hold her captive with his prowess.

"Regrettably, my dear Sylvanas departed before you could execute my wishes upon her, so I suppose I must move forward," the Meddler pondered aloud, his attention diverted from Alexstrasza's futile attempts to free herself.

His tone held a tinge of disappointment tinged with indifference, as if he were discussing a matter of minor inconvenience. Despite Alexstrasza's persistent struggles, her attempts to break free seemed futile against his commanding hold, and he remained unbothered by her efforts.

"Now the question remains, which of these pests should I target next," he mused aloud, his gaze shifting northward. "Yogg-Saron would be the closest option, yet dealing with all those puppets under his control would prove quite bothersome. On the other hand, N'Zoth has the naga and their slut-queen guarding the entrance to his prison," he mused, turning slightly sideways on his throne. His legs and upper body hung off the armrests in a posture of casual contemplation.

With a nonchalant gaze towards Alexstrasza's restrained figure, he casually inquired, "Any ideas?" His bored tone contrasted starkly with the amusement that flickered across his face as Alexstrasza attempted to speak through her gag, eliciting a faint snicker from him.

The scene unfolded almost casually, his indifference casting a veil over the gravity of the situation. Despite the apparent nonchalance, there was an undercurrent of anticipation, as if he were subtly relishing her struggles against the constraints.

After a while, he cast a curious glance toward the sky, idly whistling a tune to himself. Suddenly, inspiration struck him, and a mischievous chuckle began to escape from deep within as he raised his hands, rubbing them together with anticipation.

"I wonder... what is little Jaina up to," he mused, a sly glint dancing in his eyes. With a swift motion, he caused his throne to fade away into the ether, dissipating like mist, leaving behind only faint echoes of his chuckles lingering in the air. The scene became serene once more, with only the bound form of Alexstrasza as a testament to the enigmatic visitor's brief presence.

~~~~

Jaina stood at the docks, her gaze fixed upon the vast expanse of the sea stretching out before her. The serene waters seemed to offer solace amid the chaos that had plagued her since Silithus. War's bitter aftermath lingered in her thoughts, a weight that burdened her mind and heart.

With a heavy heart, Jaina sought refuge in the rhythmic ebb and flow of the waves, the calming sound offering a fleeting respite from the turmoil within. Yet, despite the calming embrace of the sea, the weight of recent events lingered, refusing to be so easily cast aside.

A sense of familiarity enveloped her, arms snaking around her midriff while a head found its place on her shoulder, the pressure of a body pressing against her back. She immediately recognized the presence, and a surge of anger ignited within her at the audacity of the person who had dared to approach her in such a familiar manner.

Recalling all the suffering she had endured because of him, she simmered with indignation. The mere closeness of his touch acted as a catalyst for the memories of past turmoil, stoking the embers of her frustration even further.

As her power surged, she relinquished control, letting it burst forth in an explosive surge that forcefully ejected the unwelcome presence from her vicinity. Whirling around in a surge of anger, she launched a relentless attack on the Meddler. Flames danced in the air, ice encased the surroundings, and the arcane surged chaotically, wreaking havoc on everything within its reach.

The once serene docks became a canvas for destruction—engulfed in flames, frozen in ice, and obliterated by the sheer force of her magical onslaught. Every element in her arsenal was unleashed with unrelenting fury, as if the wrath of the heavens had descended upon the location.

The dockworkers and guards scrambled away, their terrified screams filling the air, but Jaina barely registered their panic. Her entire focus was fixed on the abhorrent void creature that had manipulated and exploited her! Spell after spell surged forth from her, but to her mounting frustration, each one met with failure. They were either swiftly negated or simply disregarded.

The audacious being lounged comfortably in a makeshift throne, watching her onslaught with a smirk etched onto its smug face. Its amusement at her anger and futile attempts to harm it infuriated her further. Each magical assault she launched felt as futile as a kitten trying to confront a towering beast.

Despite her growing rage, she couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness. The creature's indifference to her most potent spells left her seething, trapped in a cycle of impotence against an adversary who seemed beyond her reach.

Amidst the wreckage wrought by her fury, Jaina found herself slowly regaining composure, the heated rush of her anger subsiding into a simmering ember within her chest. As she stood amidst the aftermath of her outburst, the realization of its futility crept in, enveloping her in a hollow sense of regret and exhaustion.

Observing her panting form with a hint of amusement, the Meddler spoke up in a tone that carried a touch of mocking amusement, "Feeling better?"

His words, laden with sarcasm, hung in the air, a stark reminder of the fruitlessness of her outburst against a being whose control and power remained unchallenged. The subtle mockery in his voice only added to the lingering frustration that welled within her. Jaina, conflicted between her ire and a sense of resignation, remained silent, her gaze locked onto the chaotic remnants of her futile attack.

"What do you want?" she ground out, her voice laced with seething anger, her eyes smoldering like fiery embers. "Are you here to command me to be your puppet in yet another place?"

The Meddler let out a nonchalant yawn in response to her words, his demeanor unimpressed as he fixed his gaze on her, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. "You say that, yet you still utilize the little gift I bestowed upon you," he retorted, his words carrying a hint of mockery, as he remained aware of her connection to the World Tree.

Jaina's expression contorted into a frown at the stark reminder. Even in the current circumstances, she was reluctant to sever her ties to Nordrassil. This time, Tyrande concurred with her sentiments. Despite the evident risks associated with its power, both women acknowledged the vital necessity of retaining access to it. They understood the perilous nature of their situation, recognizing that the benefits the tree offered would likely prove indispensable in the battles to come.

"Really, Jaina? Initiating a conflict on the city docks. What exactly did you hope to achieve?" A measured voice, filled with reprimand and authority, caught both their attention. As they turned toward the speaker, they beheld Aegwynn carefully making her way toward them, cautiously avoiding the most devastated areas. Her demeanor carried a hint of disdain as she surveyed her surroundings before finally standing beside Jaina.

The ambiance surrounding Aegwynn was one of composed disapproval. Her gaze remained fixed on Jaina, the weight of her words underlined by a clear air of disapproval.

Aegwynn shifted her gaze towards the Meddler, still lounging in his throne, his demeanor exuding an air of amusement. Observing the enigmatic being, her expression remained inscrutable. After a brief moment of consideration, she let out a dismissive sniff and redirected her attention back to Jaina.

"So this is the one?" Aegwynn's voice carried a tone of subtle skepticism as she regarded the Meddler. "Merely by casting one's eyes upon him, it becomes apparent that trust should not be easily granted. Jaina, you are far too trusting," she chided, her words carrying a sense of admonishment that caught Jaina off guard. The unexpected reprimand in the midst of the tense circumstances left Jaina momentarily taken aback.

"Oi! I'll have you know I'm plenty trustworthy. There's no need to be rude," the Meddler's offended voice resounded sharply at Aegwynn's words. As their gazes fixated on him, his expression exaggeratedly portrayed offense, his features contorted to convey a sense of wounded pride.

Jaina took a brief moment to massage her forehead, a gesture of attempting to quell the brewing tension within her. With a deep breath to regain composure, she redirected her attention towards the Meddler.

"Enough," she uttered firmly, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and curiosity. "Why are you here?" Her gaze pierced through the air, her eyes fixed on the enigmatic figure, demanding an explanation for his unexpected presence.

The Meddler responded to Jaina with a playful taunt. "That's your problem, Jaina. You're always so serious, wound up so tightly that it all eventually unravels." He gestured theatrically around them. "Chaos!" he proclaimed, spreading his hand above him, emphasizing the tumultuous atmosphere that surrounded them. His tone carried a mischievousness that contrasted sharply with Jaina's demeanor.

Jaina maintained her serious expression, prompting the Meddler to let out an exasperated sigh before he adjusted himself in his chair. "To be completely honest, I was feeling rather bored. Sylvanas seems to have embarked on some sort of self-discovery journey or whatever it is she's up to now. Frankly, I'm not entirely certain of her intentions."

He leaned back, considering his next course of action. "I was contemplating whether to pursue Yogg-Saron or N'Zoth next. Yogg-Saron has already ensnared all of his wardens and turned them into his obedient pets. Dealing with the entire entourage is simply too bothersome."

The Meddler paused, his expression turning somewhat disdainful. "As for N'Zoth, well, he's submerged underwater. Added to that, the naga and their slut-queen are guarding him, making it an equally bothersome situation to handle."

He shrugged nonchalantly, as if describing the inconveniences of his day-to-day choices. His lack of concern for these overwhelming challenges was evident in his casual demeanor.

Jaina's sneer deepened as she glared at him. "Did you come here believing we'd just open the doors for you? Perhaps you're expecting a red carpet welcome too?" Her frustration surged within her, the smugness in his demeanor fueling her growing irritation. She fought to keep her composure, but his arrogance grated on her nerves.

As Jaina's words escaped her lips, the world seemed to convulse, plunging into an abyss of darkness and ominous foreboding. Malevolent energy surged, encircling the world in an eerie embrace. Jaina and Aegwynn reacted swiftly, conjuring arcane energy that enveloped their hands, forming protective circles of pulsating power. Their faces etched with apprehension, they surveyed their surroundings with wary eyes, the air thick with an unsettling aura.

Their breaths quickened, ragged gasps punctuating the tense silence. Fear seeped into the very essence of their beings, gnawing at their insides. Whispers, sinister and maddening, slithered into their minds, sowing seeds of doubt and distress. Panic flickered in their eyes, darting frantically in every direction as they grappled with an overwhelming sense of impending doom.

Their once-steadfast resolve wavered, as the unearthly power unleashed by the Meddler permeated the world, grinding at their sanity, leaving them shaken and on the verge of succumbing to the unfathomable terror that had been unleashed.

A resounding roar pierced the air, causing both Jaina and Aegwynn to swiftly pivot toward the sound, their instincts primed for imminent attack. A colossal red dragon, pulsating with magical energy, loomed into view. Reacting instantly, both women conjured a protective shield around themselves, bracing for the impact as the dragon hurtled towards them.

However, just before the collision, the dragon vanished, leaving in its place a figure that resembled an elf, though something about it seemed distinctly different. The sudden transformation left both Jaina and Aegwynn momentarily stunned, their defensive stance easing as they scrutinized the new form that stood before them.

"Enough. You will leave these mortals alone," Alexstrasza commanded, her voice allowing no room for argument.

Is that so? came a grating, echoing sound that reverberated unpleasantly all around them. The Meddler's response rippled with an ominous tone, emanating a sense of defiance despite the forcefulness in Alexstrasza's demand.

The ground trembled violently as a colossal hand obliterated a section of the city, and an immense figure ascended, growing taller and taller into the sky. Jaina's eyes widened in disbelief, witnessing the unfathomable transformation of the Meddler. The sheer magnitude of the scene shook her to her core, her hands trembling uncontrollably as she struggled to comprehend the immense spectacle unfolding before her.

In that moment of overwhelming fear and astonishment, a reassuring touch landed on her shoulder, prompting Jaina to whirl around and meet Alexstrasza's gaze. The Dragonqueen's gentle smile managed to quell some of Jaina's apprehension, and a sense of calm gradually settled upon her racing heart. Alexstrasza's mere presence seemed to alleviate the overwhelming dread that had seized Jaina's senses.

As she looked into Alexstrasza's serene expression, Jaina found solace, her fear subsiding in the midst of the chaos, though the monstrous visage of the transformed Meddler continued to loom overhead, an ominous reminder of the immense power at play.

Alexstrasza regarded them both with a serious expression. "Once I transform, climb onto my back. We must take the battle to him, or everything will be lost." Her voice carried a weight of urgency and determination that resonated deeply with Jaina and Aegwynn.

Their eyes met briefly, sharing a silent understanding before Jaina nodded in firm agreement. Aegwynn, recognizing the gravity of the situation, followed suit with a determined expression. They both knew the impending confrontation would be perilous, yet the Dragonqueen's unwavering resolve stirred a sense of determination within them. The urgency in Alexstrasza's words reinforced the imminent threat posed by the transformed Meddler, urging them to act swiftly to confront the looming danger.

In the heart of Theramore, chaos reigned as the monstrous figure of the Meddler loomed, casting an eerie shadow over the city. His form, a grotesque fusion of twisted limbs and abhorrent tendrils, crackled with otherworldly energy, exuding an ominous aura that sent shivers down the spines of all who beheld it.

In contrast, Alexstrasza, in her majestic dragon form, exuded a radiant and formidable presence. Her wings spanned wide, shimmering with the essence of all dragonflights – a beacon of hope and strength amidst the darkness. Jaina, her connection to Nordrassil empowering her, stood resolute on Alexstrasza's back, channeling the World Tree's energies. Aegwynn, her arcane prowess at the ready, stood prepared for the coming onslaught.

The clash began with a thunderous roar from the Meddler, its voice resonating like a twisted cacophony. Dark tendrils lashed out, crackling with searing energy, striking with relentless force. Alexstrasza countered, unleashing torrents of flame, aiming to engulf the Eldritch creature. Jaina's magical abilities surged, casting powerful spells that illuminated the darkened skies, while Aegwynn weaved intricate arcane shields to protect her allies.

Yet, the Meddler's power was overwhelming. With an eerie grace, he deflected their attacks, his monstrous form exuding an arcane maelstrom that consumed everything in its path. His counters were swift and devastating, tearing through their defenses with ease. The battle raged on, the clash of powers creating shockwaves that shook the very foundations of Theramore.

Despite their valiant efforts, the trio faced the harsh reality – they were outmatched. The Meddler's eldritch might was too vast, too incomprehensible. His power eclipsed theirs by unfathomable magnitudes. As much as they fought with determination and courage, it became clear that victory was beyond their grasp.

Wearied and wounded, Alexstrasza, Jaina, and Aegwynn staggered, their strengths waning against the relentless onslaught. With a final surge of energy, the Eldritch Meddler unleashed a cataclysmic wave of arcane force that shattered their defenses and overcame their resistance.

The battle ended in defeat.

The city of Theramore lay in ruin, the Eldritch Meddler standing tall amidst the devastation, triumphant in his unparalleled power. Alexstrasza, Jaina, and Aegwynn, battered but unbowed in spirit, had fought with all their might, yet they could not stand against the overwhelming force of the Meddler's eldritch might.

As they collapsed to their knees, utterly spent and drained by the exertion of their powers, the once malevolent atmosphere surrounding them dissipated, leaving behind an eerie calmness. The air gradually returned to a semblance of normalcy, devoid of the sinister taint that had enveloped them moments before. However, the aftermath of destruction remained unaltered. Theramore, Jaina's beloved city, lay in ruins, the landscape marred by devastation and the haunting echoes of tragedy.

With a heavy heart, Jaina gazed around at the desolation that now defined her city. The once vibrant streets were reduced to rubble and ash, with scattered remnants of life strewn across the devastated landscape. The charred remnants of buildings stood as grim testaments to the lives that were lost in the sudden and brutal assault.

A sense of despair washed over her as she surveyed the heartbreaking scene before her. Theramore, a place that had once teemed with vitality and promise, was now a shattered shell of its former self. Tears welled in her eyes as she grappled with the overwhelming sense of loss, mourning not only the city she called home but also the countless lives that had been lost amidst the chaos and destruction.

A hand abruptly seized her chin, forcibly redirecting her gaze to meet the Meddler's intense stare. Dark and malicious, his eyes bore into hers, emanating an ominous aura that sent shivers down her spine. His voice carried a tone laden with darkness and a warning tone as he spoke, "Such is the price for mortal arrogance. Remember this price well and be grateful for this mercy."

With a final, ominous declaration, the Meddler released her chin, allowing her to crumple to the ground as her legs gave way beneath her. As she collapsed, a sense of dread lingered, intensified by the fading silhouette of the Meddler, vanishing into the ether. His cryptic warning echoed in her mind, leaving her with a chilling reminder of the consequences of challenging powers beyond mortal comprehension.
 
Chapter 28
Sylvanas had no true destination in mind when she teleported away in anger, so she was not truly surprised as to where she wound up – home. Windrunner Village, within view of Windrunner Spire.

However, it was also a site of terrible loss for her family. During the Horde's attack, not only was the village burned, and everyone living there killed, but she also lost Lirath, her younger and only brother. The anger she felt upon learning that Vereesa had been training him, despite Lirath never being meant for such, was indescribable.

Raising her hand, Sylvanas gazed at it. Having such enormous power made her ponder "what ifs." What if she had possessed this power during the Horde's attack? Perhaps Lirath would still be alive. Yet, having this power now and using it to save her home from destruction only resulted in her being considered... what did they consider her? A criminal? A traitor?

Sylvanas leaned her head back and looked up at the canopy of trees. It didn't really matter. The point was, she was no longer welcome here, and that hurt.

Gritting her teeth, she realized that all she had been doing was losing. She had lost her place in her own home, the title of Ranger-General that she had worked so hard to obtain.

She lost her rangers, those she had believed returned to her, only to discover they were nothing but pale imitations given a facsimile of life, sacrificed for the Meddler's ambition.

And in exchange, she gained power that many would kill for, though she had no desire for it. It had brought her nothing but misery.

A teleportation spell ending not far from her drew some of her attention, but not too much. She wasn't surprised that her arrival here had been felt, yet she felt no fear.

Arrogant though it may be, she was too powerful for anyone to chain her anymore.

"Ranger-General." A familiar voice spoke up, surprising her a little. Of all people to confront her, Prince Kael'Thas was the last person she expected to do so.

She turned towards him, taking a moment to regard Kael'Thas before speaking. "I believe I no longer hold that title, as I was imprisoned before my departure." There was a lingering bitterness in her voice, a trace of the torment she had endured during her captivity.

Kael'Thas's expression tightened at her words, but he remained silent. They stood there in a brief yet tense silence, their gazes meeting as they observed each other in the aftermath of her return.

After a contemplative pause, Kael'Thas's shoulders sagged slightly. "I am truly sorry for what was done to you. My intention was to release you, but by the time I sought to do so, you had already left."

He furrowed his brows, visibly pondering his next words. "Where did you go? And why have you returned?"

Sylvanas glanced away momentarily, grappling with her own uncertain motives. What was she seeking? The sudden surge of power, discernible only to her, made her snap her head towards its source. Kael'Thas looked on, confused by her reaction, unable to perceive what she sensed.

The palpable exertion of power by the Meddler stirred a sense of foreboding within her. His anger, now evident in the currents of energy he unleashed, hinted at a looming catastrophe. She understood the world could not withstand his unrestrained fury. Realization dawned on her, prompting a wry, humorless chuckle as she turned to face Kael'Thas, offering a faint smile.

"I sought a purpose, and it has found me," she explained. Her posture straightened, and an aura of power enveloped her. "I shall do what I have always done – protect." With determination, she allowed her magic to cloak her and vanished, her destination set for wherever the Meddler was, her resolve clear: to quell his rage and ensure he didn't bring ruin upon the world.

~~~~

Arriving at the scene, Sylvanas was horrified by the ghastly sight that met her eyes. The Meddler's colossal and grotesque form loomed over the city, vast swathes of it reduced to rubble and ruin, with the ground strewn with the lifeless bodies of the fallen.

Her gaze narrowed as she observed a dragon attempting to attack the Meddler's monstrous shape. Straining her eyes, she recognized Jaina and another figure riding the dragon's back, both engaging in the futile assault against the overwhelming power of the Meddler.

Quickly assessing the situation, Sylvanas realized the futility of their efforts. The power gap was too immense to make any significant impact. Determined, she drew her bow and conjured an arrow imbued with potent energy, intending to deliver a blow capable of harming the Meddler.

Her arrow struck its mark, drawing the Meddler's attention toward her in surprise and disbelief. "Enough! Cease this pointless destruction," she commanded, conjuring another arrow. With a surge of her own power, the desolate surroundings underwent a transformation, though the devastation and loss remained, with the Meddler standing unperturbed before her.

The Meddler's face was a blank mask, an expression that would have unnerved her in the past. Yet now, filled with resolve, Sylvanas refused to cower before him. Despite wielding this ruinous power, she refused to succumb to being a mere slave to it or him.

After a tense moment, the Meddler's smirk spread across his features, exuding an air of satisfaction. "Took you long enough. I had feared you'd lost that strength— the ability to stare death in the eyes and defy it," he remarked, igniting a fierce anger within Sylvanas. With gritted teeth and tightened eyes seething with fury, she lowered her bow and struck him with all her might, shattering his head. Yet, her satisfaction was short-lived as his head promptly regenerated, fueling her desire to repeat the action.

"Feeling better?" His question, delivered with a yawn, demonstrated a complete lack of concern or fear in the face of her rage.

Inhaling deeply, Sylvanas fought to quell the rage simmering within her, diverting her gaze from the devastated cityscape—now recognized as Theramore, governed by Jaina. Meeting the Meddler's eyes again, she confronted him, her voice weighted with incredulity. "Why? Haven't you taken enough from her already?" Despite Jaina not perceiving their relationship as such, Sylvanas considered the sorceress a friend. Witnessing something Jaina cherished being callously abused deeply unsettled her, especially considering the loss of innocent lives. She needed to understand why.

The Meddler shifted his bored gaze to the ruined city, then back to Sylvanas, nonchalantly shrugging in response. "I felt like it. Jaina's high-handed attitude has grown stale. She's lost the spark that made riling her up enjoyable. She charges forth like a bull, heedless of the repercussions, presuming I'd tolerate it without retaliation."

He collapsed to the ground, sprawling on his back with arms outstretched. "I entertained the notion that she might pique my interest, but she's lacking something."

Sylvanas could only stare at him in disbelief, utterly aghast at his callousness. The notion that the Meddler massacred innocent lives over a flimsy pretext rattled her to the core. Clenching her jaw and narrowing her eyes, she lunged at him, pinning him down, her hands clawing at his throat, delivering blows and slaps while screaming in a fit of rage. "That's it?! Some trivial, concocted reason? You slaughtered countless innocent people for this?!"

Raising her hands in an attempt to deflect the incoming strike, she was sent flying and tumbled along the ground before rising to her feet. The Meddler effortlessly levitated himself upright, displaying little concern.

His bored gaze met hers, and he yawned in a manner that suggested disinterest. "I fail to comprehend your concern. Mortal lives are meaningless; they exist one day and vanish the next." Floating closer, he gently rested his hand on her cheek, his touch soft. "We are eternal; they exist solely for our entertainment," he concluded monotonously.

Sylvanas felt a shiver race down her spine at his words. In that moment, she grasped the fundamental disparity between him and everyone else. He was indeed an eldritch being, viewing life as a fleeting diversion.

The weight of his last statement sank in, and a sense of dread gripped her. "We?" she uttered in confusion. Could it be possible?

He offered a gentle smile, leaning closer until his lips brushed hers, and a faint whisper accompanied the soft kiss. "We are the same."

As he broke the embrace, Sylvanas' frozen expression of surprise and horror prompted an exasperated sigh from the Meddler. "Why are you surprised? And what surprises you? That I'm a monster? You've known that for quite some time. I haven't been human for a very, very, very long time. Or is it the change brought about by the power of void creatures, beings so vast they were regarded as gods?"

With each revelation, Sylvanas felt as though the ground had vanished beneath her. Dropping her head into her hand, she began to chuckle bitterly. She realized her foolishness in believing she retained her Elven nature despite everything.

Looking up at the Meddler with narrowed eyes, Sylvanas asked, "What are we then?" The Meddler raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. "Isn't it evident? We are of the Void. It's only through the power we wield that we resist its control. All beings who've tasted the void's power or were born of it are tied to it. The distinction lies in having the strength to resist its influence and maintain autonomy. That's the only form of freedom we can attain. Hence, my pursuit to consume the Old Gods' power—to preserve my freedom."

His gaze turned distant, as if observing something beyond her perception. "I'll never return there," he murmured, looking down at her, a hint of regret in his eyes.

Amidst this staggering revelation, Sylvanas was struck by another detail. "You were once human?" The revelation surprised her; she had believed him to be born of the Void, assuming his form to serve his objectives.

The Meddler's expression soured, an edge of anger surfacing. "Yes, I was human—a naive man filled with hope and dreams for a better future," he sneered, his voice filled with bitterness. "However, all the hope and dreams couldn't save me when the void consumed me. I was too feeble to resist, becoming nothing more than its servant."

Understanding dawned upon Sylvanas as she looked at him, feeling a sense of pity for his past. The Meddler, catching her gaze, rolled his eyes. "Spare me your pity. I have no use for it, nor do I care. I've accepted what happened and endeavored to regain a fraction of what I lost. But I'm no longer the man I once was."

He turned toward her, allowing the power of the Void to emanate from him, distorting the world around them. "I am a monster, never forget that. If you aim to stop me from wrecking havoc and ruin, you're welcome to do so." After his declaration, he reined in the power, returning everything to normal.

Raising his hand, he tenderly caressed her face, a melancholic smile forming. "I wonder how long you can uphold your ideals."
 
Chapter 29
Sylvanas gazed at the spot where the Meddler had stood, mulling over his words and their implications. The revelation that he was once a human consumed by the void and enslaved by it did not entirely surprise her.

She could easily comprehend how one might fall victim to its allure; the power it offered was undeniably intoxicating. He spoke of hope and dreams. Had he, perhaps, been seduced by its power as he had done to her? The possibility seemed quite high, but it appeared he shielded her from the consequences… at least in some manner.

However, these thoughts couldn't overshadow the primary reason for her unease—a truth she desperately wished wasn't real. As she raised her hand and then withdrew it, the truth became evident. Hastily regaining control, she shook her hand, attempting to erase what she had seen from her mind.

She struggled to divert her mind from these thoughts and their implications. Observing Jaina, the woman whom the Meddler had hurt so much before departing, Sylvanas contemplated approaching them.

Then again, she and Jaina had parted on strained terms, and the Meddler had caused her substantial pain and grief. Perhaps it was best to leave.

Just as she was about to depart, she was noticed. The draconic woman turned toward her and... smiled. Sylvanas felt perplexed by her expression—was it gratitude? Did she somehow know that Sylvanas had attempted to halt the Meddler? Regardless, she knew she wouldn't be welcomed here or anywhere else.

Regrettably for her, it seemed Jaina had also become aware of her presence and teleported over, with the other two following soon after. Witnessing anger, sorrow, and a sense of being adrift on Jaina's face, Sylvanas could only sigh.

"Why?" Jaina asked, her question conveying a myriad of emotions. "Tell me. Why?" Her voice grew stronger, fueled by anger and loss. "WHY, DAMN IT?!" Jaina shouted at her due to Sylvanas's continued silence.

Sylvanas pondered her words for a moment. "Because he... no, we are monsters." She couldn't deny it, no matter how much she wished otherwise. She was no longer who she used to be; all that remained was this distorted version of her former self. "I wonder how long you can uphold your ideals." Those words echoed in her mind, a warning if she ever heard one. Despite understanding good and evil, and even comprehending it, she questioned the longevity of her ideals.

Had that been what happened to him? Had the void eroded his morals and ideals until all that remained was a monstrous entity? Was that to be her fate?

"No, no you are not," Alexstrasza spoke up as she approached Sylvanas, standing before her. "Do not surrender who you are, for if you were a monster… you would not have stopped him from destroying everything." Alexstrasza's words surprised both Jaina and Aegwynn.

Even Sylvanas gazed at her in surprise, realizing her actions hadn't gone unnoticed. "What?" Jaina exclaimed, her surprise evident.

Alexstrasza turned toward her with a sad smile. "Did you think he stopped just because he grew bored? If she had not intervened…" She didn't need to finish her sentence for everyone to understand the dire consequences that would have ensued.

"Still," Alexstrasza began once she turned back towards Sylvanas. "You must not give in, do not surrender to it." She placed her hand on Sylvanas's shoulder. "Do not allow his words to shake your resolve, for you are all that stands between him and the madness that will engulf the world." Alexstrasza's words carried a sense of foreboding, deeply affecting Sylvanas.

"But…" Sylvanas started as she raised her hand, which began to transform into void. However, as Alexstrasza grasped it, her hand returned to its normal state. "Do not be deceived; you are still Sylvanas Windrunner. The Void is a part of you, yes, but you have not yet succumbed to it."

Alexstrasza extended her other arm and placed it on Sylvanas's chest, flooding her with power. Sylvanas's form glowed with a multitude of colors, and she felt better than she ever had in her life.

Filled with life and magic, the sensation was indescribable. Once Alexstrasza withdrew her hand and the glow faded, Sylvanas almost pleaded for her not to stop. She hadn't even realized her eyes had grown misty, enveloped in a peaceful feeling that settled upon her.

Confused and lost, Sylvanas gazed at Alexstrasza. "Wh-what?" She breathed out, and Alexstrasza offered her a gentle smile. "I have strengthened your mortal shell so that you can resist the Void's influence more effectively," Alexstrasza explained, looking at Sylvanas with a sense of regret. "Yet, you must remain vigilant and stay true to yourself. While he shields you from much of the Void's corruption, it will still exert its influence on you," she finished with a sense of foreboding.

Alexstrasza abruptly turned her head north, her expression tensing. "You must go, you must not leave his side," she urgently warned Sylvanas. Sensing the same foreboding sensation as Alexstrasza, Sylvanas stepped back, nodding with determination before vanishing.

~~~~

As Sylvanas materialized in an unfamiliar place once more, she halted, struck by the strange sight before her. An orc, or rather the spirit of one, was being chased by a floating set of armor while hurling obscenities and threats at the Meddler, who lounged on a throne crafted from ice. Glancing around, she realized she stood atop a frozen mountain, its peak sheared off and flattened.

"Oh, come on… You can't seriously be considering stopping me even now!" The Meddler's whiny voice pierced the air, drawing her attention to his petulant expression.

"Cease this, you pitiful wretch! I will…" Sylvanas cared little to listen to the orc's words, harboring no affection for their kind, particularly after the tragedy that befell her beloved brother.

Stepping onto the icy steps, she soon stood before the Meddler, who toyed with an imposing helmet—evidently a part of the floating armor set—in his hands.

"What are you doing?" Sylvanas felt compelled to ask, for reasons she couldn't quite discern. Catching the helmet, he turned his gaze towards her. "Well, since all of you seem so upset about me destroying some city, I came here to amuse myself," he remarked, gesturing towards the orc still being pursued. "Meet Ner'zhul… or as he likes to call himself – The Lich King!" The Meddler finished, altering his voice to sound grave and ominous, casting a chilling and foreboding aura.

Sylvanas looked at him deadpan, her eyes narrowing as she turned to regard the orc with a different intensity. "Yup, he's the one who sent… uh… that guy… damn… what was his name?" The Meddler trailed off with a thoughtful expression. "Arthas," Sylvanas ground out the name, her anger growing as she beheld the one responsible for Arthas's fall and the chaos that ensued, leading her to this moment.

Chains manifested around her arms as she strode toward the orcish spirit now being battered by the armor. Winding back, she struck at both the armor and the spirit, tearing the armor apart and drawing an anguished cry from the orc as her chains rent his ethereal form as if it were still flesh.

Wrapping one of her chains around the orc's leg, Sylvanas began to forcefully slam him into the frozen ice, shattering it with each impact until his leg was severed and consumed by the chains.

Piece by piece, she tore him apart, unmoved by his pleas and threats, relentlessly continuing until only his head remained. Engulfing her foot in the Void, she stomped on it, shattering not just the final remnant of him, but the entire frozen plateau.

Observing as it crumbled beneath her, hovering above the destruction, she witnessed undead beings begin to crawl out of the debris. In response, she conjured a massive void orb in her hand and hurled it down, creating an explosion so vast that even the surrounding mountains were razed, leaving behind nothing but a perfectly circular crater.

"Feeling better?" The Meddler's amused voice chimed in from beside her. "And you were scolding me for destroying things. A bit hypocritical, aren't we, my dear?" He teased her with an enormous grin on his face.

Sylvanas turned towards him, unamused by the comparison. "You were killing innocents without reason, like a child. I destroyed an evil that threatened this world. Do not equate us."

In response, the Meddler yawned, unfazed. "Good, evil... innocent, guilty... mere words with no inherent meaning. Each person perceives them differently, so in truth, none are truly guilty, none are innocent, and the concepts of good and evil do not exist. They're constructs of morals and words crafted by mortals to restrain their primal instincts. Such things hold little significance to beings like us. But if you wish, you're welcome to shackle yourself with them," he concluded, floating idly with outstretched arms, gazing at the sky with a sense of boredom.

Sylvanas could only stare at him, struggling to comprehend how someone could become so callous and indifferent. To disregard the distinction between good and evil, innocence and guilt. While she acknowledged that such concepts could be subjective, there were moments when the line was starkly clear. This was one such instance, and for him to dismiss it so casually left her baffled.

"Oh, spare me the lecture," the Meddler groaned, exasperated by her silent reprimand. "I pity you," Sylvanas finally spoke, disregarding the Meddler's eye roll as she continued, "I believe you were once a good man. Perhaps I might have wished to meet that person," she mused aloud.

"Pah… What makes you think I was ever a good person? Maybe I was the biggest villain around, dreaming of conquering the world? Perhaps conquering the elves, turning women into my playthings, and making the men... do something," he finished, attempting to provoke her.

Sylvanas crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. "So why haven't you? You certainly have enough power to do so." The Meddler blinked rapidly at her words. "Huh?" He blurted out, taken aback. Shortly after, his laughter echoed through the air. "Are you that mad at them? Want me to conquer them and claim all the elven women for myself?" A dark smirk crept across his face. "Even dear Vereesa?" Sylvanas tensed at her sister's name, clenching her jaw. "Or maybe Alleria?" he mused thoughtfully.

"Alleria is alive?" Sylvanas breathed out desperately, catching the Meddler's interest. "Hmm? Yeah, she is… Why wouldn't she be?" He tilted his head in curiosity. "Although, if she keeps meddling with the Void as she is doing now, who knows how it will end for her," he finished, bemused.

Sylvanas's joy at hearing of her sister's survival was overshadowed by fear at learning about Alleria's actions. "What?!" She exclaimed. "What are you talking about? What is she doing?" Sylvanas grabbed the Meddler's shoulder, turning him to face her with wide, terrified eyes.

The Meddler looked at her with amusement, but entertained her nonetheless. "Well, she's messing around with some fool whose world was consumed and altered by the Void. Now, he fancies himself an expert on it and has roped your sister into his foolishness," he remarked, amusement evident in his voice. "In fact, there's a bet going on about how long it'll take for them to completely mess up," he finished with a laugh. His laughter abruptly ended as Sylvanas pushed him away and grasped her head, her thoughts racing.

Finally calming down, she turned towards the Meddler, exuding nothing but resolve and determination. "You're going to help me reach Alleria so I can rescue her from her folly," she commanded, her voice echoing authority, reminiscent of her time as Ranger-General.

The Meddler paid little heed, lazily rubbing his ear with his pinky. "Nah… too much effort. Besides, there's still stuff to attend to here," he concluded with a yawn.

"Then we're going to see it through and rescue Alleria from her reckless actions," Sylvanas asserted firmly, refusing to yield. The Meddler, observing her unwavering resolve, slouched in resignation.

"How bothersome," he groaned, an exasperated expression overtaking his face. Suddenly, realization struck, morphing his annoyance into frustration. "Oh, fuck! I was planning to goad Jaina into handling all the annoying parts for me, but now she'll be all mad at me," he lamented, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Now I'm going to have to do this shit myself, aww man."
 
Chapter 30
Sylvanas found herself seated within the bustling confines of a tavern, enveloped in a miasma of simmering anger that intensified with every boastful cheer and the resounding clatter of tankards being slammed onto tables. She struggled to come to terms with the fact that the Dwarven King, Magni Bronzebeard, had forged a friendship with the Eldritch Creature simply by having his unruly daughter returned to him. What was worse, the Meddler had managed to sway Brann, the king's wary brother, into their circle, with promises of history to be found!

As the Dwarves reveled in camaraderie, discussing plans for their expedition to Northrend and the impending assault upon Ulduar, Sylvanas grappled with an overwhelming frustration that made her want to tear out her own hair. Just as she was mired in these thoughts, she was abruptly pulled toward the Meddler and unceremoniously settled onto his lap, a move that made her seethe with indignation.

"Look, hic!... I-uh... I tol' ya, hic!... these blokes I had an elf, hic!... and here she is! Hic!" The Meddler slurred drunkenly, presenting her as some sort of prize. Incensed, Sylvanas slapped him, provoking uproarious laughter from the dwarves gathered in the tavern.

"You've got yer hands, hic... full with that one!" Magni exclaimed with joviality, slapping his knee in amusement.

In a shocking display, the Meddler began to inappropriately touch her breasts, a sight visible to the onlookers. Yet, concealed from their view was how he manipulated her piercings, causing an overwhelming surge of pleasure that betrayed her with an involuntary moan. "Nah, hic... I got this, hic... one tamed!" the Meddler declared loudly, as Sylvanas fought against the intensifying arousal that flooded her senses. She was mortified by the situation, utterly powerless to halt his advances.

She gritted her teeth in a silent hiss, resembling a cornered feline, attempting to conceal her mounting arousal while trying to resist his lecherous actions. Her attempt to tighten her legs and laying across the Meddler's shoulder only seemed to affirm his assertion. Damn him and the callous amusement the wretched dwarves found in her profound embarrassment!

~~~~

It seems his actions at the taverns had ignited the Meddlers lust since Sylvanas found herself naked and tied up hanging from the ceiling with a gag in her mouth as her drool leaked from her moaning mouth while her eyes rolled in her head from the arousal and constant orgasms she had.

Meddler continued to thrust his cock into her dripping cunt, greatly enjoying how her walls flexed around his cock. "Fuck yeah!" He exclaimed, slapping her ass and watching it jiggle. "Ughh… mmmm…" Muffled groans and moans escaped Sylvanas.

"I definitely made a good choice to acquire you, my dear." His tongue extened and licked her body from her reddening asscheek, across her back, and wrapped around one of her swaying breasts. The tip began to poke at her nipple, twisting and rolling it and the piercing it held.

Before it took hold and began to pull at it. "Ughnn…" Sylvanas released a pained groan, at which point her poor nipple was released, snapping back into place.

Meddler's tongue sharpened and began to burrow into her nipple! Even with her lust-clouded mind, Sylvanas realized that something was wrong. She began to squirm and twist, yet her binding held steady.

Meddler took hold of her hair, pulled her head back, and began to thrust harder and faster, slamming his cock against her cervix. With each thrust, his cock sank in deeper and deeper until finally it gained entry, sinking into her womb.

Despite how outrageous all of this was, Sylvanas felt no pain, only pleasure. Meddler's hand began to grope her other breast as his cock split apart in her womb and began to travel down her fallopan tubes towards her ovaries.

"Aghn.. ughn…" Sylvanas attempted to speak but was unable to! Her mind began to cloud once more as she felt herself be enveloped as the Meddler lost his form and began to cover her and enter her!

In the end, all that remained was a blob with a vaguely female form, and in it, Sylvanas was subjected to things she could never have begun to imagine. Every opening in her body was being filled, all of it flooding her mind with pleasure. So much of it that if her head had not been plugged up, her brain might've leaked from her skull!

Yet, despite it all, she was aware of everything happening to her! The way her breasts had been penetrated and were being fucked as milk spurted from them! Her throat and ass were connected with an enormous phallus running through her!

But worse of all was how she could see her ovaries being assaulted! She was not even sure what was happening; it was as if she was only observing from outside, yet still connected.

'Marvelous, isn't it?' Meddler's voice revebrated around her, and she felt a presence envelop her. 'What?!' Her own voice rang out.

The sensations of her physical body faded away; in fact, everything did! Fear began to consume her, and despite all she tried to do, she could not resist.

'Shhh, calm.' Her worries leaked from her; she felt and was embraced, and as she looked down, she could see herself and the arms that had embraced her. Turning her head, she beheld the Meddler.

He gave her a smile before kissing her, and everything leaked back into her, and she was thrust back into her body. Now free and laying on the bed with the Meddler embracing her and gently caressing her.

Harsh pants escaped her as her eyes darted everywhere, and if she was not so tired, she would've attempted to sit up. "Wha…" Even speaking was tiring.

"Shhh, it's alright. I got you." Meddler softly whispered in her ear. "Sorry, I pushed you too hard; you were not ready for it." Desperate to know what he was talking about and what that was, Sylvanas' tired mind chose this moment to finally shut down.

Meddler calmly observed Sylvana's resting form. "Close… so very close."

~~~~

Varian found himself swamped with work once more, a situation that was nothing new. Petitioners, nobles, and all sorts filled his court as usual. Fortunately, both Bolvar and Katarina were able to provide him with some relief by handling the less important matters.

Unbidden, his eyes traveled towards Katarina. She had become such a dependable person in the wake of his wife's tragic passing. Many a day, he contemplated that perhaps it was time for him to take a new wife. Not only were the nobles subtly and not-so-subtly pressuring him to do so, but there was another reason for his thoughts – Anduin. His son was young, and his mother's absence was hard on the boy. Perhaps a dependable and worthy woman such as Katarina could fill the gap in both of their hearts.

With his mind set, Varian sat back in his throne. He would speak with Katarina later today. His attention was drawn by one of the guards rushing into the courtroom. Snapping a salute, the soldier stood at attention. Knowing that a guard would not have rushed in like this unless it was urgent, Varian gestured for the man to speak.

"My King, King Magni Bronzebeard is at the gates of the city with a contingent of soldiers, requiring your immediate presence," the guard reported crisply. Varian felt surprise and confusion. A hush fell across the room before furious whispers filled it.

Sharing an uneasy glance with Bolvar, Varian stood from his throne. "Court adjourned! Bolvar, come with me," Varian commanded and began to walk outside, noticing Katarina joining him. "My lady, perhaps it is best for you to stay here," he spoke softly, a hint of worry in his voice.

Katarina gave him a soft smile that stirred his heart. "I'm sure there won't be anything dangerous happening, my king. But should it turn to such, I will depart immediately," she assured him, to which Varian nodded his agreement after a moment's consideration.

Approaching the city gates, Varian spotted Magni standing there, his hands resting on his hammer and a grave expression on his face. Varian observed the soldiers behind Magni, all elite soldiers of Ironforge. What had happened?

"King Magni," Varian addressed as he stood a few paces from the dwarf, the question in his tone evident. Magni's gaze softened momentarily as he looked at him. "Hello, lad."

Varian felt some tension ease. If Magni spoke like that, then it was unlikely they were to blame for what brought him here. Closing the distance between them, he inquired, "What brings you here?"

At that, Magni tensed. "I bring grave news, lad. I have reliable information that a most nefarious foe has infiltrated your city, sowing discord." Varian froze for a moment before anger clenched his jaw. "Who?!" he demanded, not questioning Magni's words, for he had no reason to doubt him.

"A woman by the name of Katarina Prestor," Magni said gravely, causing cold sweat to break across Varian's back. Disbelief filled him, and his eyes darted towards the woman, who also went still.

He tried to speak, but Magni had noticed his gaze and followed it. "Ah, you look exactly as he described, Katarina, no, Onyxia, Broodmother of the Black Dragonflight!" Magni's voice was resolute as he tightened his grip on his hammer.

"Magni, I don't know who fed you such lies, but…" Varian began, as Katarina interjected, "That's a serious accusation, King Magni." To which Magni snorted. "No accusation here, only truth." With that, he produced an amulet that caused Katarina to recoil, falling to her knees as her form started to twist and shift.

"The time for your machinations has come to an end! Be revealed for what you truly are!" Magni shouted, the amulet glowed brightly. Katarina transformed into an enormous black dragon, leaving Varian and his men dumbfounded, unable to believe their eyes.

"Sons of Ironforge! Attack!" Magni's thunderous command snapped Varian out of his stupor as he witnessed the dwarves charging toward the dragon.

"Wretched pests! Do you know what you have done! So much time wasted now!" Onyxia roared, swatting the dwarves aside. Varian drew his blades, a furious anger surging within him as he charged toward the dragon with a fierce yell. "Attack!" He commanded his men, urging them to join the assault against the dragon.

"Enough!" Onyxia roared, unleashing a powerful blast wave that knocked them all backward. "I will get you for this, dwarf!" she roared before vanishing.

~~~~

High above, as was his habit, the Meddler gleefully observed the results of his efforts. With this, Varian would feel indebted to Magni and would likely assist in their attack on Ulduar, increasing their chances of success. This meant he wouldn't have to engage in any menial labor. Smug satisfaction filled him, although his good mood was dampened by the seething Sylvanas next to him.

"Ugh… even when I do a good job, you're upset with me," he exclaimed, raising his hands dramatically toward the sky. "What must I do to earn your approval, a man must know!"

This only aggravated Sylvanas further. "Don't even try that! We both know you didn't do any of this out of the goodness of your heart!" She seethed, unable to fathom how effortlessly his plan had succeeded. Disappointment and disbelief overwhelmed her; once again, he had twisted what could have been a genuine good deed into a scheme that served his purposes. He manipulated those he aimed to exploit, and worse, they willingly rushed to be exploited! Damnation!

Yet she felt powerless, torn between her disdain for it all and the potential benefits that would arise. For the first time, Sylvanas contemplated the difficulty of the task she had set for herself.

"Annoying isn't it?" Meddler laughed as he vanished, leaving Sylvanas stewing in her own frustrations.
 
Chapter 31
Jaina stood, gazing over the remnants of her once-thriving city. The deceased had all been located and laid to rest, but their haunting presence lingered, vividly etched into her memory every time she closed her eyes. A turbulent mix of emotions surged within her, a tempest of rage, tears, pleas, and curses, directed at an elusive target, or perhaps even herself.

In a moment of reflection, she acknowledged the gravity of her own responsibility. She had dismissed wise counsel and ignored warnings like a stubborn child, arrogantly convinced of her superior judgment. Now, the consequences of her hubris unfolded before her eyes, exacting a toll she never thought she would pay. The seemingly harmless fool she had once perceived revealed the depths of his madness, and Jaina had no one to blame but herself.

A gentle hand landed on Jaina's shoulder, prompting her to turn and meet its owner. Alexstrasza stood beside her, wearing a compassionate expression. "Do not blame yourself excessively. Dwelling on such thoughts won't yield any benefits. One way or another, he would have pursued his desires," she reassured Jaina, her gaze directed towards the ruins. "Still, I did not foresee him resorting to something like this. It is unlike him," she continued thoughtfully, and Jaina sensed the subtle use of some magical force, though its nature eluded her.

"Strange," Alexstrasza muttered to herself, prompting Jaina to inquire, "What is?" This interruption caused Alexstrasza to turn her head towards Jaina, her expression now searching. "Why did he cast you aside? Did he simply lose interest?" she questioned, leaving Jaina puzzled and furrowing her brows in confusion, unable to comprehend what Alexstrasza was referring to.

"What are you talking about?" Jaina inquired, her eyes fixed on Alexstrasza as she sought answers.

"She means that he was molding you into what he desired, only to later discard you when he no longer wished to endure your arrogance and uppity attitude. Instead, he opted to remind you of your insignificance compared to him," Aegwynn explained as she approached. With each word uttered by Aegwynn, Jaina's eyes widened in realization.

Turning her gaze back to Alexstrasza, Jaina's head jerked in an attempt to confirm the accuracy of Aegwynn's words. Observing that Alexstrasza offered no contradiction, Jaina's knees weakened, and she collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed by the weight of the revelation.

"What?" Weakly, the word escaped Jaina as disbelief washed over her upon hearing the shocking revelation. "Why?" She questioned, uncertain whether she was asking why he had discarded her or why he had attempted to do so in the first place.

Alexstrasza knelt beside Jaina, pulling her into a comforting embrace. "He is a twisted individual; his motives and desires are born of chaos. Everything that was once good in him has been twisted and warped by the Void. You are not the first, nor the last, he has used in this way. Be glad that you survived his attention." Alexstrasza gently whispered into Jaina's ear, offering solace in the face of the unsettling truth.

Aegwynn observed Jaina with a heavy heart, her concern deepening as Alexstrasza's words prompted a moment of reflection. With narrowed eyes, she questioned, "What do you mean – once good in him?" Aegwynn braced herself for the response, a mixture of worry and anticipation lingering in the air.

Sighing, Alexstrasza released her hold on Jaina and rose, assisting the mage to her feet. Turning her attention to Aegwynn, she gathered her thoughts before addressing the inquiry. "He wasn't always the way he is now. Once, he was a man, perhaps even what one might describe as a good man. However, due to the actions of others, he found himself in an unenviable position. Unfortunately, he failed to save himself and succumbed to the influence of the Void," Alexstrasza explained, a hint of sorrow tainting her voice. Yet, her expression soon hardened, revealing a resolve that belied the challenges they faced.

"The Void twisted and warped him in unimaginable ways; very little of the man he once was remains. Now, he is nothing but a creature of the Void, yet his hatred of it persists. It is what empowers him; it is what allowed him to escape. The reason he came to this world was simple – to gain power. By absorbing the three Old-Gods upon this world, he would amass enough power to break the chains the Void Lords have placed upon him. However, his time grows short. His betrayal of C'Thun has alerted them to his treachery, so he must obtain both Yogg-Saron and N'Zoth."

The more Alexstrasza spoke, the more captivated both Jaina and Aegwynn became by what they were hearing. Jaina clenched her jaw as her eyes turned cold. "Then we stop him from getting them," she declared in anger.

"No," came the response from Alexstrasza, a single word that took Jaina by such surprise that she even stepped back. "What?" she exclaimed in disbelief.

Alexstrasza scowled, her fists clenched tightly. "He must obtain them; we cannot allow their taint to linger any longer."

"Are you mad? He is already nearly unstoppable, and you want to give him more power?" Jaina shouted at Alexstrasza, unable to believe what she was hearing.

Alexstrasza looked at Jaina with an unconcerned expression. "His power means little to us. His plans to secure Yogg-Saron are already in progress. Interfering with them would only incur his wrath," she explained to Jaina, though she could see the anger in her face. Despite Alexstrasza's attempt to justify the decision, Jaina remained visibly furious.

She sighed and waved her hand. "You believe this to have been horrible? Even I could do worse, and so could you. This was merely a temper tantrum, him attempting to be 'funny' as he no doubt believed. Make no mistake; even now, his power is great enough to rend this world asunder." Alexstrasza's words held Jaina still, and she couldn't deny their truth, no matter how desperately she wished otherwise.

"So what do you suggest we do?" Aegwynn asked exasperatedly, rolling her eyes, already aware of the answer. "Nothing," Alexstrasza answered, and Aegwynn sniffed, feeling vindicated in her expectations.

"You cannot mean that," Jaina spoke up quietly. Alexstrasza looked at her with a tinge of sadness. "Jaina…" Jaina's head shot up, tears welling in her eyes, and anger etched on her face.

"So, am I supposed to just forget the people he killed? My people?! And what happens when he gains their power? Are we to kneel before our new god and hope he finds us amusing enough to spare us?" she screamed at Alexstrasza.

"Why would I care to rule over you, dumbasses?" A bored and familiar voice interrupted, freezing them all. Slowly, they turned towards the speaker, horror evident on their faces.

There, they beheld the Meddler, floating with his pinky in his ear, looking at them with boredom. Upon seeing their shocked expressions, he gave them a cheeky wave. "Hiya."

A roar of anger and anguish erupted from Jaina as she hurled every ounce of power she possessed at him, only to witness her efforts prove utterly futile. The monstrous figure before them merely yawned in boredom, unaffected by her onslaught. "You know that won't work. Why do you persist?" Despite the warning, Jaina persisted, intensifying her assault with even greater force. However, her relentless attacks only succeeded in boring the formidable foe. Eventually, he nonchalantly ensnared her in chains, causing her to crumple to the ground, futilely wriggling as her mouth was bound as well.

Adding insult to injury, the Meddler leisurely seated himself upon her, casting a disinterested glance towards Aegwynn and Alexstrasza. "You weren't supposed to reveal all that, you know," he chided, fixing an unimpressed gaze upon Alexstrasza for the secrets she had unveiled.

Alexstrasza appeared entirely unfazed by his words, prompting him to roll his eyes in exasperation. Undeterred, he continued to stare at her, but she remained standing there, seemingly indifferent to his gaze. After a moment, growing increasingly irritated, he demanded, "Well?"

"Hmmm?" Alexstrasza responded with a questioning hum, causing him to narrow his eyes in frustration. "What's your angle here, exactly? What do you hope to accomplish? We both know nobody died in my little rampage; I saw you replace them with the fakes. So the question is, what are you angling for?" He cast a quick glance at Jaina, who had become still at his words. "Were you hoping for little Jaina here to break and turn into some all-powerful mage who could stop me? Even you are not foolish enough to think that would work. So, what are you after?" His cheer dissipated as he glared at Alexstrasza, causing some of his power to leak from him.

His eyes shot open briefly before he burst into uproarious laughter. "There is no way you are so foolish! Haha!" He tried to speak amid his laughter.

"Did you truly believe it would work? Azeroth is not merely incomplete; she is imprisoned. She cannot aid you. HAHA." His words finally caught the attention of Alexstrasza, who gazed at him with widened eyes.

He stood there, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Did you think I would be foolish enough to bind the young mage to a World Tree if there was a chance for her to establish a connection with the Titan slumbering in this world?" He positioned himself before Alexstrasza, his hand gently caressing her cheek, eliciting fear in her eyes.

He withdrew his hand and pivoted, his gaze fixed on a distant point. "It was, mind you, an intriguing plan—quite creative," he remarked, offering his applause as a gesture of admiration. "Unfortunately, the Titans grew wary of the entity flourishing here, leading them to imprison it as well." Alexstrasza wore a look of confusion, struggling to comprehend the information being divulged. "In fact, they harnessed the power of the Old Gods themselves to reinforce the prison that held her captive." As he disclosed this revelation, Alexstrasza's gaze snapped toward him, and a profound sense of dread etched across her features. "No..." she whispered, her voice breaking. "Yessss..." he drawled with a sinister chuckle.

A malevolent chuckle escaped him. "I've already told you... I would shatter my chains." His ominous promise lingered in the air as he gradually dissipated into the wind.
 
Chapter 32
Tyrande heaved a sigh of relief once everyone had left. Restructuring the night elven military was never going to be an easy task, but the sheer resistance she encountered was more than she expected.

While some pushback was inevitable, the amount of it she faced and from those she had not even expected was tiring. It seemed that every corner of her plan was met with skepticism or outright opposition. The veterans of countless battles, deeply entrenched in tradition, were hesitant to embrace change. They clung to the familiar ways, resistant to any suggestion of altering their time-honored tactics.

Fortunately for her, almost everyone who had participated in the war in Silithus agreed with her. They had seen firsthand the shortcomings of their military strategies and the devastating consequences it could lead to. They recognized the urgent need for reform and were willing to support Tyrande in her efforts.

The glaring problems in the way they conducted war were obvious when compared with the other races they fought alongside. The humans, dwarves, and other allies had developed sophisticated battle doctrines, utilizing a combination of ranged and melee units to great effect. In contrast, the night elves relied too heavily on their huntresses, neglecting the establishment of a sturdy frontline to protect them from harm.

The sentinels who specialized in melee combat were ill-equipped for the task, lacking proper armor and wielding weapons that prioritized aesthetics over functionality. The warglaive, while iconic and symbolic of their culture, proved ineffective in close-quarters combat. And the decision to charge into battle wearing armor that left vital parts of their bodies exposed was nothing short of reckless.

Many had accused her of attempting to copy the humans and abandon thousands of years of history, but that was not her intention. No, Tyrande sought to learn from the successes of their allies and adapt those strategies to suit the unique strengths of the night elven forces.

The sheer contrast on the battlefield between a single footman and a huntress was eye-opening. While the huntress excelled at maintaining distance and picking off enemies from afar, she faltered when the gap was closed, lacking the necessary skills to fend off foes in close combat.

A footman, on the other hand, was well-armored and trained to engage enemies at close range. His ability to withstand blows and deliver decisive strikes made him a formidable adversary, even when faced with ranged attackers.

Whereas their rangers, once the range advantage had been lost, almost always found themselves at a disadvantage. They lacked the means to effectively increase the gap and regain their distance from enemies, often succumbing to overwhelming odds.

Another significant challenge arose when Tyrande proposed a solution to address this issue. She suggested incorporating magical abilities into their combat tactics, drawing inspiration from her experiences fighting alongside Jaina Proudmoore. The mage's adept use of teleportation or as she called it blink spell allowed her to swiftly maneuver around the battlefield, maintaining her range advantage and outmaneuvering her opponents.

It was such a rudimentary spell that even Tyrande was able to pick it up with little instruction. However, this proposal was met with staunch resistance from traditionalists within the night elven ranks. They viewed the use of magic in combat as a deviation from their cultural heritage and an affront to the teachings of Elune. Despite Tyrande's assurances that embracing magic would only enhance their capabilities and increase their chances of success, many remained skeptical, unwilling to abandon deeply ingrained beliefs and traditions.

Had they truly become so fearful of magic that the mere mention of a basic spell was enough to cause them to lose their heads? It was a bitter pill to swallow.

But even beyond all of the aforementioned problems, there was one massively glaring issue – the size of their population. Tyrande pulled practically every combatant she could to fight in Silithus, yet the numbers she brought barely reached the ones brought by the orcs, who had not come in full force as she later learned.

Jaina understandably could not field a massive army, yet even her forces were not insignificant. Amidst all this, another glaring realization occurred to her – only the Kaldorei fielded so many women as warriors.

Every other race fielded substantially more men than women as combatants. Now, as she considered the losses suffered, she understood why – children. Tyrande had never truly thought much about having a child of her own; her sort of adoption of Shandris had filled that void.

However, after witnessing the countless dead, the continued existence of her race felt like a slap in her face. Kaldorei children were rare; most couples spent centuries together before even considering having one.

So, losing such a large part of their population made her understand that with each battle, their continued extinction drew ever closer. This realization sparked one of the largest pushbacks she had suffered. Tyrande decided to advocate for more women to become pregnant and bear children.

It's not that she does not understand how it sounds or the violation of freedom of choice it entails, but the idea of her people going extinct scares her more than she is willing to admit. Once she shared this fear, even the biggest opponents to this idea grew silent.

Elune grant her strength; only now does she truly realize how much she had failed her people.

~~~~

Varian slumped in his chair, the weight of Magni's words heavy upon him. It was a tale that stretched the limits of belief, pushing the boundaries of what he thought he knew about their world. Old Gods, ancient entities of unimaginable power, sent to Azeroth eons ago with the sole purpose of twisting and corrupting its very essence.

These parasites, these malevolent beings, had infiltrated the fabric of their world, their tendrils reaching deep into the heart of Azeroth's history. They were the architects of chaos, the instigators of discord, and now, after millennia of imprisonment, they sought to break free from their shackles and unleash their fury upon the world once more.

The Titans, beings of immense cosmic power and wisdom, had waged a war against these abominations. They had crafted stone armies, forged from the very essence of the earth, to combat the Old Gods and their minions. They had fought valiantly, sacrificing much in their quest to protect Azeroth from the encroaching darkness.

But even the Titans, with all their might and ingenuity, could not eradicate the threat entirely. Instead, they had resorted to a desperate measure – imprisonment. They had sealed the Old Gods away, locking them deep beneath the earth, in the hopes of containing their malevolence for all eternity.

Yet now, as Magni's tale unfolded, it became painfully clear that their efforts had been in vain. The Old Gods were stirring once more, their ancient prisons weakening with each passing moment. They hungered for freedom, for vengeance, for the opportunity to finish what they had started long ago.

Varian could hardly comprehend the magnitude of the threat they faced. The very foundations of their world trembled at the thought of these primordial beings unleashed upon it once more. It was a nightmare come to life, a harbinger of doom looming on the horizon.

As Varian pondered the gravity of their situation, he knew that the fate of Azeroth hung in the balance. They stood on the precipice of oblivion, teetering on the edge of annihilation.

"You'll forgive me, Magni, if all this sounds entirely too fantastical for me to believe," Varian spoke tiredly, raising his hand to stop Magni from retorting. "Yet I also know that you have no reason to make up such tall tales, so I would ask you to tell me how you came to learn of this?"

At that, Magni smiled broadly. "Aye, a fine lad brought back me stubborn lassie to gain an audience wi' me, and then he told me this. But I cannae say I was too keen tae believe a word comin' frae his mouth," Magni's jovial expression became stony.

"Which is when the lass that was wi' him introduced hersel'. Sylvanas Windrunner, Ranger-General of Silvermoon," Magni said with utmost seriousness, surprising even Varian. Knowledge of Elven lands to the north was sparse, but even he knew of this woman. So for her to corroborate the man's story...

"Does that mean the elves intend to travel to deal with this threat as well?" Varian asked, sensing that their help would be greatly appreciated with a threat so large.

Here, Magni grew silent, making Varian fear the worst. "Ye know... I forgot tae ask. We got sae drunk that it completely slipped ma mind, and then he gave me the amulet and told me o' the dragon hidin' in yer city and left," Magni revealed, looking a little embarrassed.

Varian pinched his nose as the reason Magni was so fond of this person came out – they got drunk together. Still, if their Ranger-General knew of this threat, then no doubt the rest of the High Elves knew of it as well. It shouldn't be too hard to make contact with them to decide how to proceed with this.

As both Varian and Magni sat absorbed in their own thoughts for a moment, a guard urgently knocked on the doors. Varian got a bad feeling from that; the last time a guard was so insistent to speak with him, a dragon was revealed in his city.

"Enter," he called out, and the guardsman rushed inside and saluted. "My King, Night Elven ships are approaching the harbor." This took both Varian and Magni aback, unsure as to why they would come here all the way from Kalimdor.

After a moment, Varian rose. "Let's hope they bear better news than you did, Magni," Varian remarked humorously, as Magni laughed alongside him.

~~~~

Standing at the bow of the ship, Shandris observed her destination growing larger on the horizon. The time had come for her to share vital information, and though she recognized the importance of her mission, uncertainty lingered. Sending her away just when Tyrande needed support during these transformative changes felt like a difficult decision.

Her adoptive mother required all the assistance she could muster, and in Shandris's view, she should be standing right beside her. A weary sigh escaped her lips. However, dwelling on such thoughts was futile; she was here, and it was time to fulfill her purpose.

As the ship approached the docks, Shandris spotted an unexpected sight—King Varian and, to her surprise, King Magni were at the docks. Had she arrived during a meeting between the two rulers? This might prove fortunate, sparing her the need to travel to Ironforge to meet King Magni.

Stepping off the ship, she approached the kings with steady steps, offering both a respectful nod as she greeted them. "Ishnu-alah, I greet you in the name of High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind. I have been tasked to deliver news of a terrible enemy threatening our world."

Varian closed his eyes, visibly burdened by the weight of Shandris's words, while Magni burst into laughter. Shandris was taken aback by their contrasting reactions. Sensing her confusion, Magni composed himself and waved away her concerns.

"Do nae worry, lass. I'm no laughin' at ye; it was just somethin' Varian said before we came here." Magni sobered up and glanced at Varian, who had shifted his gaze to the sky as if seeking solace there.

"Aye, best tae talk aboot it indoors, eh lad?" Varian nodded and gestured for them to join him. While Shandris was initially puzzled by the contrasting responses, the atmosphere had shifted to a more serious one, and she refrained from taking offense.

~~~~

After they had all retired to the same chamber Magni and Varian occupied earlier, the two rulers turned their attention towards Shandris. "What has happened?" Varian asked, eager to get to the point.

Without hesitation, Shandris recounted the events, and as her story progressed, both Magni and Varian grew increasingly dumbfounded. They couldn't believe what had transpired without their awareness. The revelation of the betrayal they faced and how C'Thun was ultimately defeated left them stunned.

Magni's hands clenched into fists, his anger palpable until he could contain it no longer and struck the table with such force that it shattered. "Blasted wretch!" he roared, startling Shandris, while Varian clenched his jaw, understanding Magni's fury.

As Magni began to pace, muttering angrily to himself, Shandris looked towards Varian for an explanation. Sensing her confusion, Varian took a few breaths to calm himself before elucidating what he knew.

In the end, Shandris fully comprehended the dwarven King's anger, having been deceived by the very same individual who had manipulated them back in Kalimdor. Despite her own anger, Shandris could only slump in her chair.

"While that explains some things, sadly we are still ensnared in his web. Make no mistake, he will ensure that we are forced to attack Ulduar and confront Yogg-Saron. However, now that his duplicity is known, we can attempt to plan for it and thwart his schemes at their culmination," Shandris spoke with resolve, her words calming Magni's anger momentarily as the three of them brainstormed how to proceed.
 
Chapter 33
Sylvanas silently observed as the Night Elven ship docked in Stormwind, a deep frown creasing her brow. The purpose of their arrival was glaringly obvious, and she anticipated the inevitable response from the Humans and Dwarves. However, as much as she despised aiding in his schemes, the prospect of their recklessness leading to a catastrophe was even more unsettling.

With this sobering thought in mind, she readied herself to teleport, knowing she needed to gather someone before attempting to engage with them. Fortunately, the Meddler had vanished somewhere, and though she loathed not having him in her sight, this task took precedence.

With a swift mental command, the scenery around her shifted, and as the darkness of her teleportation dissipated, she beheld the desolate remains of Theramore. Amidst the ruins, she could discern men and women toiling diligently to rebuild what had been lost. It didn't take long for her to spot Jaina herself, offering aid, undoubtedly driven by lingering guilt.

Sylvanas allowed the veil that had cloaked her to fall, revealing her presence. It didn't take long for her to be noticed; the moment she emerged from hiding, Jaina's head snapped in her direction, and a flicker of fear crossed her face.

As Jaina recognized Sylvanas instead of the Meddler, the fear dissolved, replaced by a tumult of emotions: anger, disappointment, and above all, betrayal. Such reactions were entirely expected, and Sylvanas harbored no resentment towards Jaina for them.

She remained standing as Jaina approached, the two of them standing a few paces apart, silently observing each other. "I offer no apologies, for they cannot undo the past. All I can say is that I was unaware of the full extent of his plans," Sylvanas began, her tone devoid of any personal sentiment on the matter. She cast a quick glance around before continuing, "As for the destruction of your city, I never anticipated he would commit such an atrocity, and I was not present to intervene in time."

Having delivered her message, Sylvanas awaited Jaina's response, noticing how Jaina seemed to deflate at her words. "No, there is nothing to apologize for. I was foolish to ever trust him even a little, and I've paid dearly for that mistake," Jaina admitted with a hint of resignation.

As Jaina glanced at Sylvanas, a moment of realization dawned upon her. "Wait… you can stop him?" Jaina murmured to herself, a memory of Alexstrasza's similar words surfacing in her mind.

However, before Jaina could fully immerse herself in this newfound hope, Sylvanas intervened to dispel it. "Forget it, Jaina. I cannot assist you in his destruction," Sylvanas stated firmly, her words hitting Jaina like a sudden chill. Jaina's expression crumbled with disappointment, eliciting a pang of pity from Sylvanas as she observed the shattered look on Jaina's face.

"Why?!" Jaina exclaimed, her voice filled with frustration and despair, causing Sylvanas to sigh heavily. "Because," Sylvanas replied, her tone tinged with resignation, "he has granted me this power. I do not know his plans for me, but he is altering me in ways I cannot comprehend. All I can do is assist you in ensuring that nothing akin to the devastation that occurred here repeats itself."

Sylvanas paused, her demeanor shifting as she straightened herself and fixed Jaina with a serious gaze, catching Jaina off guard. "This is why I've come to you. I need you to accompany me to Stormwind," Sylvanas stated firmly. Jaina blinked in confusion, then shook her head. "Why?" she asked, then quickly added, "Nevermind, I can't leave. There is work to be done here." She gestured around them, indicating the ongoing tasks.

"Jaina, he has manipulated the Dwarves into aiding his schemes, alongside the Humans. Only the night elves have ventured to Stormwind, undoubtedly to warn them of his presence. What do you think he will do if his plans go awry?" Sylvanas's words sent a shiver down Jaina's spine.

~~~~

As the hurried knocking echoed through the room and the haggard guard entered, Varian felt a moment of apprehension wash over him. There was a fleeting desire to ignore the urgency of the new situation unfolding before him. However, as a King, he knew he couldn't afford such luxuries. With a solemn gesture, he motioned for the guard to speak.

"My King," the guard began crisply, "Lady Proudmoore has arrived, accompanied by a guest. She seeks urgent audience with you, King Magni, and the Night Elf representative."

Varian's brow furrowed in confusion at the news of Jaina's unexpected arrival, but the mention of her desire to speak with the individuals present in the room sparked a glimmer of understanding within him.

Glancing at both King Magni and Shandris, he could see their curiosity mirrored his own regarding Jaina's purpose for being there. "Allow her entry," he commanded the guard, who saluted before swiftly departing.

A moment later, Jaina entered, yet it was her companion that made both Magni and Shandris leap to their feet. "TRAITOR!" Shandris called out, rushing towards the elven woman with Jaina. With a mere glance at Shandris, Jaina's companion waved her hand, causing Shandris to fall to the ground, chained up and gagged.

"Y' have a lot o' nerve tae show yer face tae me, lass." Magni growled, glaring at who Varian began to suspect was Sylvanas.

Sylvanas raised an eyebrow towards Magni. "Do not blame me for your own gullibility. Your brother attempted to warn you. You should have listened to him. In any case, that is not why I am here."

As Sylvanas spoke, her demeanor exuded a chilling confidence, sending shivers down the spines of those present.

"And why are you here?" Varian asked, glancing from Jaina to Sylvanas.

"To stop you from making a huge mistake," Jaina replied, her gaze shifting momentarily to Shandris and then back to Sylvanas, who rolled her eyes before freeing Shandris. Shandris stood up slowly, her glare fixed on Sylvanas.

Varian slumped heavily into his chair. "If you've come to warn us of the duplicity of this individual, then you are a little late," he said, gesturing at Shandris.

"No, I am here to warn you not to cross him. He laid waste to Theramore because I challenged him, and were it not for Sylvanas here, nothing of Theramore would remain," Jaina's words chilled those in the room. After a moment, Varian buried his face in his palm, the weight of the day bearing down on him.

"Then what do you suggest we do?" He spoke, feeling more than a little lost. In response, Jaina grimaced, her words tasting bitter on her tongue. "Nothing. Any deviations from his designs for us could lead us to disaster."

Before the others could argue against her words, Sylvanas spoke up. "He is lazy," she began, confusing everyone. "He doesn't need you to attack Ulduar and open the way to Yogg-Saron for him. But he sees such menial tasks as beneath him. So he plots and manipulates others to do it for him. In truth, he cares very little for any of you, your people, or your kingdoms.

Your only worth in his eyes is the amusement you can provide to him and doing the dirty work for him. As long as he is not challenged, he will feel no reason or desire to exercise his power." Sylvanas's words aggravated those in the room.

Both Varian and Magni scoffed at the notion of being servants to some mere creature. As for Jaina, she simply sighed, her shoulders sagging under the weight of truth in Sylvanas's words. "She's right," a grimace crossed her face. "And even if we were to attempt to challenge him, I doubt he would be the one to slap us down."

Confusion filled the room, evident in the shared glance among those present. "What do you mean?" Shandris voiced the question echoing in everyone's mind, her gaze shifting between Sylvanas and Jaina, who met her with a raised eyebrow.

Jaina surveyed each of them before speaking. "What I mean is that Alexstrasza, the Queen of Dragons, would intervene before we could provoke him. I believe Alexstrasza has struck a deal with him, all the while plotting to betray him when the opportune moment arises. Unfortunately, her plan was doomed to fail due to her lack of crucial information." Jaina saw no necessity in divulging her supposed involvement in those plans.

"Now, she's left hoping he'll honor their original agreement. This means she'll assist him in securing both Yogg-Saron and N'Zoth, and if we dare to stand in their way..." The implication hung in the air, understood by all without needing to be voiced.

When Shandris heard that the Dragonqueen herself had chosen to side with this monster, despair bloomed within her. While she wasn't as intimately connected to the Night Elven people as Ysera was, Alexstrasza had always been regarded favorably by her kind.

"Then we are truly lost," Shandris whispered quietly, her gaze dropping as silence enveloped the room.

~~~~

"I warned you that this would end badly, but you stubbornly refused to listen!" An incensed Nozdormu shouted at Alexstrasza as they stood amidst the caverns of time.

Yet, Alexstrasza completely ignored him, deftly weaving the sands in the air and perceiving time in her unique way. As Nozdormu moved to disrupt her magic, a weight settled upon his shoulders, and Alexstrasza's gaze bore into him.

Reflected in her eyes was a mixture of dismissal and impatience. "Silence. If you desire to remain a slave so fervently... brother, then I can oblige you." Alexstrasza's voice dripped with coldness. The rest of the bronze flight cautiously observed from a distance.

Both Alexstrasza and Nozdormu continued to glare at each other, and in the ensuing silence, a set of footsteps rang out as their owner slowly and carefully approached the bickering pair.

As Soridormi halted beside Nozdormu, she cast a glance toward the leader of their flight and her mate before directing her gaze towards the Dragonqueen. "My queen," she began cautiously, "what is it that you seek to achieve?" Soridormi had grown weary of the constant secrecy and being kept in the dark.

Ever since Alexstrasza's imprisonment in Grim Batol had been shattered, and the Queen of Dragons emerged with unimaginable power, the timeline itself had been in constant flux. Every attempt to preserve the sacred timeline had ended in failure.

In fact, there had been numerous such disturbances to the timeline, each rendering it more unyielding to their attempts at correction.

Arthas's assault on Silvermoon was one such event, one that exacted a heavy toll on them. Something had empowered the Ranger-General Sylvanas to such an extent that the fallen prince was utterly defeated by her.

Naturally, they had dispatched a party to rectify the situation, and due to the instabilities in the timeline, they had even sent more members than usual. Yet, they were all mercilessly massacred.

It was the largest single loss their flight had suffered, a devastating blow that echoed through their ranks. Shortly thereafter, Alexstrasza arrived at the caverns of time and firmly forbade any further attempts. No explanation was offered, at least not to the main flight. Alexstrasza had spoken to Nozdormu in private, leaving the rest of the dragons curious and uneasy. Despite their attempts to glean information, they were met with rebuke.

Now, with Alexstrasza's return, the dragons hoped to finally understand what was transpiring. Additionally, there was the perplexing matter of Alexstrasza wielding the sands of time, a power traditionally reserved for the bronze dragonflight. Aman'Thul had bestowed this authority exclusively upon them, granting dominion over time itself, while Alexstrasza's influence resided in the realm of life.

Alexstrasza tilted her head as her eyes landed on Soridormi, and she simply observed her as if seeing her for the first time. After a moment, a small smile grew on Alexstrasza's face, prompting her to muse silently to herself, "How fitting," which left Soridormi confused.

"I am attempting to save this world, Soridormi," Alexstrasza said after a moment, speaking louder. Soridormi furrowed her brows at that. It's not that she was unaware of the threats plaguing their world; the question was – which one was Alexstrasza speaking of?

"From whom?" Soridormi asked, feeling as if she was finally learning something instead of being rebuffed all the time.

Alexstrasza observed her for a moment before her eyes moved across the rest of the bronze flight. "Everyone," she answered simply, taking Soridormi aback completely.

A huge sigh escaped Alexstrasza as she let the magic drop and faced them properly. "No matter how we struggle, no matter how many enemies we defeat, more will come, time and time again. Each time, we lose more and more, until there is nothing left to fight for, or anyone left to fight it."

With each word, Alexstrasza spoke, a sense of weariness permeated the air. Many of them had entertained similar thoughts before; after all, witnessing timelines had allowed them to see all that Alexstrasza spoke of.

Yet, despite this, Soridormi remained confused. How exactly did Alexstrasza intend to save them from that fate? "And how exactly do you intend to prevent all of that?" she inquired.

"By dooming us all," Nozdormu spat out before Alexstrasza could respond. Both Soridormi and Alexstrasza turned towards the fuming Nozdormu. He jabbed his finger at Alexstrasza. "Mark my words, he is not who you think he is. You're only dooming us all." With that, he stormed away, his anger palpable.
 
Chapter 34
While Sylvanas had taken Jaina with her to Stormwind to ensure that both Varian and Magni did not do anything foolish with the information brought to them by Shandris,

Alexstrasza, meanwhile, was exercising her power in the Caverns of Time, attempting to glean the best way to proceed.

The reasons for both their worries was simply floating in the ocean in the middle of nowhere. His gaze turned skyward, gazing at things only he himself could see. With no thought, plot, or anything else on his mind— in fact, his mind was almost empty of any thought.

Some could say he was reflecting on all that had passed, was happening, and would happen. "Hurry up and wait… huh." The old saying came to him suddenly.

As the water gently swayed him, he began to think about his plans involving the mortals on this world. Did he truly want to wait for them to get to Northrend and then wait even more before they got to Ulduar proper?

While getting to the continent could present some difficulty, most of the challenge would involve simply waiting for their ships to reach the frozen continent. No, what would truly waste their time was what they would find there.

The remains of the Scourge, now no doubt under some necromancer's control, or perhaps even in mindless rampage now that the Lich King was dead.

Then there were the Vrykul and their brand of stupidity.

And everything else in between those two — wildlife in general, with the Storm Peaks being a mountainous region that would require flying to traverse properly.

Then there were also the trolls, who by now should be killing one another, no doubt. Those who chose to align with the Lich King having been shown as fools, while those who killed their Loa to take their powers no doubt attempted to regain what they had lost and would doubtlessly not look too favorably upon anyone else.

Dragons could also prove a hindrance, or perhaps not? Truly, he failed to grasp what Alexstrasza was playing at. Trying to make Jaina some conduit for Azeroth's power, how foolish. Even if that could be possible, Jaina would disintegrate before being able to do anything with that power.

Then again, wasn't that what he wanted from her? To never give in, to always seek to succeed? Heh, wonder what other plans she will cook up in her attempts to kill him.

Anyway, back to the mortals and the time it would take them to do what he wanted. All in all, it could take them months before Ulduar is in their sights, and that's being generous.

Yet, before he could decide if he would do this himself after all, a naga broke the surface of the water a little ways away from him. Completely uninterested, he spared it no glance or attention.

"Esteemed and illustrious one, Her Majesty Queen Azshara, the resplendent Sovereign of Nazjatar, graciously extends a summons of unparalleled grandeur, bidding your radiant presence to grace her regal abode nestled beneath the undulating depths of the oceanic realm," the naga spoke, the reverence in his voice when speaking of Azshara unmistakable.

Yet, only silence greeted him after he finished speaking. In fact, the Meddler appeared as if he had not even heard the naga speak, completely ignoring the naga's presence.

Just as the incensed naga was about to speak up again, the Meddler rose in the air, his gaze finally tearing away from the sky to look straight at the naga.

While the Meddler simply raised a confused eyebrow, the naga felt terror, for that simple act had sent ripples of the Meddler's power washing over the area. Now, finally, the messenger of Queen Azshara understood what sort of being he stood before.

Hastily, he bowed his head, radiating only submission and fear. "Eh?" Meddler exclaimed, becoming even more confused. "Who are you supposed to be?" Yet before the naga could respond, he waved his hand, dismissing his own question. "Doesn't matter. Why are you here? Shoo." He shooed him away as one would a simple animal.

Sadly for the poor messenger, while he dearly wished to do exactly that, he feared his Queen's wrath if he failed to deliver the message just as much.

"M-m-most Radiant One!" He began stutteringly, his words getting stuck in his throat. "Her Majesty Queen Azshara sent me." He continued quickly, hoping that mentioning his queen's name would save him from being killed for daring to address one such as the one before him.

"Eeh?" Meddler only released, only marginally interested now. He yawned before speaking. "So… what does the fish want?" He spoke boredly, completely uncaring of the quick surge of anger from the naga at how his queen was addressed.

The naga grit his teeth for only a moment at the disrespect shown to his queen. Yet no matter how he wished to defend her, he understood that he would die before he managed to even start doing so.

"The resplendent Sovereign of Nazjatar graciously extends a summons of unparalleled grandeur, bidding your radiant presence to grace her regal abode nestled beneath the undulating depths of the oceanic realm," he repeated the last part of his message, a measure of peace filling him at having at least delivered it.

Yet his terror was not lessened, for he still needed to know the answer to the queen's invitation. The seconds turned to minutes as the silence stretched between them, and as they dragged on more and more, he dared to raise his head to look upon the one the invitation was addressed to.

Only to see the Meddler observing him boredly, but under the bored facade, he saw something that turned his blood to ice – anger. The Meddler, seeing the naga's eyes on him, spoke, his tone colder than glaciers and soft like a whisper, yet his words echoed in the naga's mind as if shouted.

"Oh, is that so? Am I to rush to her highness like an eager pup?" The world lost all light; there was no up or down, no water, only the two of them. "Who the fuck do you think I am?" Meddler's angry voice resounded in this empty space.

"If that squid you call a queen wants something from me, she can come to me herself!" The next moment, the world was back to normal, as if nothing had happened.

The Meddler extended a hand, and the naga accepted that he would die now. But instead, as void gathered beneath the Meddler's palm, it formed into something – a sand clock.

"Once the sand runs out, your queen dies. Unless she appears before me," was all the Meddler said before void swallowed the naga.

~~~~

The next time the water's surface was broken, the splash it made and the person who appeared were much larger. Azshara herself had come, her anger pouring out of her, incensed that she would be treated like this!

"Now now, there was no need for all this," Azshara spoke with deceptive sweetness, her tone masking the storm of rage beneath.

"Do you know what happened to Xavius?" The Meddler spoke up, and his question and its relevance to anything took Azshara aback enough that even her anger at being slighted cooled for a moment.

"Last I knew, he was playing with the Green Dragonflight and corrupting their precious Dream," Azshara spoke with some amusement in her voice, yet the question behind it was loud and clear.

"He also believed us to be… equals? Comrades?" The Meddler waved his hand wishy-washy, as if not truly sure or interested enough. After which, he finally turned to face Azshara.

The moment he did so, Azshara went on guard, her magic roiling beneath her skin, her danger sense blaring at her. "Would you like to know what became of him, for insulting me like that?" The Meddler continued in his blasé and bored voice, yet Azshara felt only danger.

"I turned him into a beast of burden and made him carry me to where I desired to go, before reducing him to nothing." The Meddler finished, floating closer and closer to Azshara, and no matter how it galled at her, she wanted to pull back.

Only to discover, to her own horror, that she could not move! Her body had frozen completely, no, worse than that, her body was not hers to move. As the Meddler stopped before her, she put her hands together for him to stand upon, while looking down upon her from her raised palms.

As a god would look down upon an insignificant creature beneath him. "You are nothing. These insignificant worms begging and scraping for your attention and favor are insignificant. This... empire that you preside over is insignificant."

Hatred burned in Azshara as all that she was and had created was dismissed, yet no words would escape her mouth. Her magic would not respond to her call; all she could do was glare impotently.

"Do not presume that you hold any standing or significance. Worms crawling in the dirt are more important than you are," the Meddler sneered at her. "All you are is a pitiful slave, a pet, to amuse your master." With those words, a collar appeared around Azshara's neck with a leash extending to the Meddler's hand. With a sharp tug, Azshara felt herself pulled forward as the collar tightened around her neck, cutting off her air.

A contemplative look came over the Meddler's face as he silently observed his new pet. "I suppose I don't have anything better to do for now," he said absentmindedly before focusing on Azshara once again. "Now, pet, take me to N'Zoth. I tire of his existence."

~~~~

Back in Stormwind, Sylvanas sat quietly observing as the others in the room conversed on the best way to proceed. Fortunately, both herself and Jaina had been able to convince the others not to do anything foolish.

In this case, swallowing one's own pride was for the better, for the consequences of not doing so could be horrific. What happened in Theramore and with Jaina was just a temper tantrum and a small one at that.

Unknowingly, she took a page out of the Meddler's book and enveloped the others in a vision, one where she herself took on the role of the Meddler and laid waste to their kingdoms and people. No matter how they struggled, they were unable to even impede her, let alone stop her.

Of course, doing so had not earned her any favor, even when they understood it was a vision. Yet once more, her decision to take Jaina with her was proved to be the right choice, for Jaina assured them that the vision they saw could become reality.

It was a chilling realization for Sylvanas herself as well, for it was one thing to know that she could do so, but witnessing herself do it was quite another. Truly, if the Meddler sought to destroy this world, none could stop him.

That is not to say there are none in the cosmos who couldn't destroy him; far from it. Glimpses of the wider cosmos and the beings of power in it have come to Sylvanas during her attempts at locating Alleria.

Ever since she had learned of her older sister's survival and her foolish meddling with the Void, she had spent considerable time attempting to locate her. Yet despite all she had witnessed, her presence would not reveal itself to Sylvanas.

Even so, during these attempts, she had beheld many worlds – those lost to the Light, the Void, demon-infested Legion worlds, and many in between. Not even in her wildest dreams had she imagined some of the worlds she beheld.

Nor the beings she had witnessed or been spotted by; some of those had been truly horrifying. Eldritch creatures half-dead, half-alive, both asleep and not, yet holding power, so much power that reality itself is being unmade around them.

It truly put into perspective that while she had believed the Meddler to be unimaginably strong, he with all his power, and herself as well, were insignificant on a cosmic scale.

Of course, she saw what could help the people on this world banish the Meddler and gain a fighting chance against the rest of the horrors in the cosmos – the Naaru. Crystalized remnants of the primordial Light, yet she dared not mention them and give false hope.

For all the Naaru she saw were embroiled in conflict across thousands of worlds against all manners of horror. Yet there was another reason she was wary of mentioning these beings – the aftermath on the worlds the Naaru had won.

The races once fighting alongside the Naaru and trusting in them, corrupted and enslaved. Lightforged they are called, a horrible fate where free will is non-existent.

Which is when Sylvanas grasped the truth – neither the Light nor the Void will bring anything good to any mortal race. They seek only to dominate and care none for those they trample underfoot. A bleak existence where power is truly the only currency that holds meaning.

A sharp jerk on her being made her sit up quickly, drawing the attention of the others. "He calls me," Sylvanas said before anyone could ask, the others shared a quick glance as she rose and prepared to depart.

She glanced at all of them. "Pride begets fall. Do not bring ruin to the world for a wounded ego," was the last thing she said before leaving.
 
Chapter 35
The moment Sylvanas teleported to Meddler's side, she fell for a moment, not expecting to reappear mid-air. After she stabilized herself, she took a quick look around, seeing nothing but water all around her.

The moment she gazed at the Meddler, she was taken aback for a moment. Once more, he seemed to be using another person like a mount, similar to the time he transformed Xavius into such. Only this time, the person he was using as such was of aquatic persuasion — a weird combination of a squid or an octopus with a female. Sylvanas's eyes narrowed; the female part seemed oddly elvish.

"Ah, there you are, my dear. Come, I have secured us transportation. I grow tired of N'Zoth's existence; we will deal with the pest while the mortals squabble and argue before ultimately traveling north," Meddler gestured for her to join him.

Sylvanas narrowed her eyes before rolling them and settling upon his lap, since that was the place he intended for her to sit, and she did not care to argue with him over it.

"So… who is this?" Sylvanas asked the moment she settled herself. "Hmm? Oh, the pet. Meet Queen Azshara, the vain and narcissistic queen of Kaldorei whose stupidity led to the world being sundered," Meddler explained before he gave a short laugh. "The stupid bint actually believed the shit Sargeras fed her and used the Well of Eternity to open a portal through which the demons poured into this world."

While Meddler found it all amusing, Sylvanas did not find any of it worth any amusement. There were old Windrunner family texts describing a war against demons thousands of years ago, but a lot of the details had been removed, so having some of that missing history filled out was satisfying. Then again, to learn that the person responsible for all of it was still alive, not to mention reduced to nothing but a 'pet', felt oddly satisfying. Still, there was something that Sylvanas did not understand.

"But that would mean Azshara was an elf… so why is she now…" She gestured at the woman beneath them, her eyes narrowed. "Did you…"

"Hmm? Oh, this, nope, not me this time. Azshara has always been a slut for power, so when her precious empire was being swallowed by the waves, she found a new master – N'Zoth. Who turned them into the Naga. Of course, the stupid bint tried to bargain with N'Zoth to keep her title of 'queen'," he did finger quotes while saying that while rolling his eyes. "But in truth, she and all those others that were turned became nothing but N'Zoth's pets."

Meddler leaned back into the throne as Azshara sank beneath the waves and began to swim deeper and deeper. For a moment, Sylvanas was worried; ingrained instinct had her taking a breath before she recalled that she did not need air anymore.

"Honestly, I wasn't even going to bother them or N'Zoth, for now at least. The arrogant wench sent one of her pets to 'invite' me to her castle." A snort escaped him. "As if I don't know what she wanted." At Sylvanas's confused glance, he continued. "I told you, Azshara is a slut for power. She wanted me to rid her of N'Zoth while no doubt intending to take your place, after which she would find a way to get rid of me."

For a moment, fear spiked in Sylvanas. While she had no real desire to remain with the Meddler, imagining someone like Azshara wielding the power she now does and the price it would extract upon the world was a terrifying thought.

"Jeez, I told you I won't do it," Meddler bemoaned, feeling her fear. "I have grown quite fond of you, and it would be a shame, not to mention too much work, to start again with someone else. So you can keep being my 'moral compass' and all that." He rolled his eyes in boredom in the end.

"By the way, nice job in Stormwind. It would've been so annoying if those dumbasses started acting all prissy." Sylvanas was not even remotely surprised to learn that he knew what she was doing. She felt glad to know that her actions had prevented a worse outcome from coming true.

She did grimace upon having it confirmed that no matter what she did, he would know. "Oh, please. If you bothered to learn how to use the power and connection we shared, you could do the same. And even learn how to hide if you so wanted," Meddler muttered as he closed his eyes, pulling her deeper into his embrace. "Pet, bring us to the control room for N'Zoth."

~~~~

Back in Stormwind after Sylvanas left, no words were spoken for a while, each digesting Sylvanas's last words. Shandris was the first to sigh before speaking. "She is right, no matter how distasteful it is, the alternative is much worse. I will speak with the High Priestess." She grimaced, recalling the efforts of Tyrande to change their ways.

"I cannot promise that we will be able to aid you; my people are… going through some changes. The war in Silithus displayed glaring weaknesses in the ways we wage war, and the High Priestess is attempting to change that but is facing pushback." Shandris raised her head to look at each of them in turn.

"Still, I doubt the expedition north will happen overnight, so perhaps when the time comes, our situation will have stabilized." Shandris finished thoughtfully. Varian furrowed his brows at Shandris's words. "Do you need any assistance?" Magni nodded in agreement with Varian's words.

Shandris considered their words for a moment. "No, I do not believe that it would be wise at this time. Such discussions could be made once the situation has stabilized, I believe. In any case, I am sorry to depart with such haste, but there is much to be done, and I do not wish to waste any more time."

"There is no need for apologies; we thank you for coming and trying to warn us of this. And you are right, there is much to do." Varian spoke as he stood along with Magni and Jaina.

With that, Shandris bowed her head before departing. As Varian sank back into his chair, both Jaina and Magni remained standing. "Ah, you will be leaving as well then?"

"Aye, laddie. Ah expect the coming days tae be filled wi' naethin' but work." Magni bemoaned that fact, imagining the logistics and the paperwork that he would be saddled with.

Jaina nodded her assent as well. "There is still much to do in Theramore; Sylvanas pulled me away from it quite unexpectedly. I will need to return to assist and allay any fears my people may have."

Varian nodded at them both as Jaina raised her head, letting the Arcane magic she pooled teleport her away. While Varian rose and walked with Magni, at the dwarf's raised brow, he sighed. "I need some fresh air."

~~~~

As they drew closer and closer, Sylvanas was mind-boggled by the sheer size of the doors Azshara brought them to. Extending her arms, she tried to feel the magic in the door. "Ah, ah, ah. I wouldn't do that if I were you," Meddler was quick to stop her.

"Titans, for all their faults, did take some measure of precaution with these things. It's best someone else opens the way for us." With that, he extended his arm with an open palm and closed his eyes.

After which, his body sagged like a puppet with its string cut, startling Sylvanas. Yet, even with the rest of his body limp, his arm remained steady. Sylvanas quickly gazed down, but Azshara did not seem to have regained her will even now.

After some time, Sylvanas couldn't help the burning curiosity. She rose and floated till she was before Azshara's eyes. She could see that Azshara's mind was still intact, trapped in her own body. Carefully, she molded the control Meddler had exerted over Azshara to allow her to speak.

"Why?" Was all Sylvanas asked. Meddler had repeatedly said that Azshara desired power, but to sacrifice an entire world for it? It just seemed like madness to Sylvanas.

"Why what?" Azshara retorted, anger in her voice at the humiliation she was forced to endure.

"Why did you do it? Are you truly so greedy for power that you would sacrifice your own people, your own empire, even the world for power?" Sylvanas just could not comprehend it. There had to be more to it. There had to be, because if there wasn't…

Azshara sniffed imperiously. "They should be glad to lay down their lives for my sake. I am their empress; they exist to serve me in all ways. What does it matter if some inferior vermin died?

I am Azshara; the world should bow down to my greatne—" "Oh, will you shut up already?" Meddler's annoyed voice interrupted as Azshara's mouth disappeared, leaving nothing but smooth skin.

Sylvanas looked at Azshara with nothing but disgust and loathing, unable to comprehend how anyone could have ever followed and called such a loathsome creature their ruler.

She looked at the Meddler, who seemed tired from what he had done. Just as she was about to inquire as to what he was doing, a spark appeared atop his palm.

It was but a glimmer, smaller than a tear, but the power in it was unmistakable. Slowly, it floated away from Meddler's palm, and Sylvanas was quick to move to the side even though she was not in its path. It continued straight until it reached the colossal doors.

The moment it touched them, a ripple ran across them, before with a groan of protest, they began to open, yet no water flowed into the chamber beyond, Sylvanas noted. Sylvanas turned back to the Meddler. "How did…?"

Meddler smirked at her. "Because I always fulfill my end of the deals I make." Sylvanas furrowed her brows, as that didn't quite clear up what she had asked.

"Come, we have work to do," Meddler spoke as he raised from his throne and began to float towards the doorway. He stopped beside Sylvanas and spared her a glance. "Dispose of the trash, my dear." He did not need to elaborate as to what he meant as he slowly continued on his way.

Sylvanas looked towards the unmoving Azshara, and while she remained motionless, Sylvanas could feel her emotions quite clearly – anger, hatred, resentment, and beneath it all… fear. With all her might, Azshara attempted to escape, yet the magic holding her in place was too potent for her to overcome.

And there was little wonder it was so, for the Meddler did not impose some sort of control spell upon her. No, he had simply taken hold of the magic that had changed her into what she was now.

It was the power of an Old God that had changed her into this monstrosity, the same power wielded by the Meddler, and her. As Sylvanas raised her hand, she felt no remorse for what she was about to do. Such evil could not be permitted to remain upon this world.

With a roar, Sylvanas reduced Azshara to nothing but a red stain in the water. Some larger chunks of her flesh still floated amidst it. She spared a glance at what remained of the evil queen before turning and following the Meddler, the doors closing behind her.

~~~~

The inside of the facility was massive; the width and height of the hallway alone were meant for giants, not someone of her size, Sylvanas noted as she slowly walked forward while her head and eyes pivoted around.

"Gotta give the Titans props for one thing, they do know how to build stuff," Meddler spoke up from ahead of her. Whatever it is that he did had truly weakened him, for he was still walking sluggishly, not to mention the whole asking her to deal with Azshara instead of doing it himself.

A stray thought passed through Sylvanas's mind. "Well, you won't get a better chance than now if you want to do it. Of course, you would die as well, but we both know that's not an obstacle to you," Meddler spoke up, not even turning to her or betraying his own thoughts on the matter.

"No, the problem is not the dying; it's what comes after," Meddler had even stopped as he spoke those words and looked down, giving a shake of his head. He raised his head and continued to walk. "Come, we have work to do."

Sylvanas stood still for a moment longer, her fingers flexing, the power broiling just beneath the surface as thoughts swirled in her mind. In the end, she clenched those same fingers and began to follow the Meddler.

"What is this place?" Sylvanas asked after they had walked a substantial distance from the entrance. For a moment, silence reigned, and she almost expected not to hear an answer. "N'Zoth's prison is controlled from here, how much power is siphoned from him, both to sustain the prison and how much of his power is used to shackle Azeroth herself. It's quite the ingenious design, turning one's own enemy into a power source, to keep both them and another imprisoned," a measure of respect could be heard in the Meddler's voice as he spoke.

Sylvanas narrowed her eyes. "And what exactly do you intend to do?" As she spoke, another set of footsteps drew her attention, ones not belonging to them. Her head shot forward where a construct trudged towards them. "Retake it from N'Zoth and use it to finally be rid of him," Meddler spoke, also looking at the corrupted Titan approaching them. "Would you be a dear? I am still quite weak," Meddler gestured at the grotesque amalgamation of stone and flesh.

In response, Sylvanas drew her bow, arrows of Void being let loose. "You will need to do better than that, my dear. It is time you learned to use this power you have properly. The time for stumbling blindly in the dark is over," Meddler commented as Sylvanas watched her arrows be absorbed and do nothing.
 
Sylvanas looked at Azshara with nothing but disgust and loathing, unable to comprehend how anyone could have ever followed and called such a loathsome creature their ruler.
Azshara had maxed up her Glamour and Charisma levels so much the Elves would fall for her and follow her despite she is a horrible ruler with a massive ego of the size of the planet.

"Dispose of the trash, my dear."
Long live the former Kaldorei Empress who was nothing but a useless toy of Sargeras and the Old Gods.

With a roar, Sylvanas reduced Azshara to nothing but a red stain in the water.
Shame that Sylvanas didn't make it slow and painful for Azshara to be reduced to begging for mercy only to be receiving none.
 
Azshara had maxed up her Glamour and Charisma levels so much the Elves would fall for her and follow her despite she is a horrible ruler with a massive ego of the size of the planet.

Honestly the whole worship thing of her just always struck me as wrong, oh sure I get why it's just wierd as fuck from an outside perspective, same as any figure. Like celebrity worship, I could never understand it.

Long live the former Kaldorei Empress who was nothing but a useless toy of Sargeras and the Old Gods.

Honestly I had at one point intended for her to serve a bigger roles, but then I remembered Xavius and well it just seemed fitting that they both would go out in a similar way, a bit of poetic justice, shall we say.

Shame that Sylvanas didn't make it slow and painful for Azshara to be reduced to begging for mercy only to be receiving none.

Remember this Sylvanas never died and became a banshee queen so she's not so gun-ho on the whole torture business.
 
Honestly the whole worship thing of her just always struck me as wrong, oh sure I get why it's just weird as fuck from an outside perspective, same as any figure. Like celebrity worship, I could never understand it.
Azshara is the embodiment of the Elven arrogance and narcissism in a nutshell in Warcraft canon. Think of her as The Gilgamesh but there's no Enkidu around to keep her in check.

Honestly I had at one point intended for her to serve a bigger roles, but then I remembered Xavius and well it just seemed fitting that they both would go out in a similar way, a bit of poetic justice, shall we say.
It's long overdue for the ex-Kaldorei Empress and Xavius as well that they richly deserved after all they had done.

Remember this Sylvanas never died and became a banshee queen so she's not so gun-ho on the whole torture business.
Fair enough. At least Azshara is gone and good riddance. No one is gonna mourn for her anyway.
 
Chapter 36
Sylvanas cursed as she leaped back from the strike of the corrupted creature. Nothing she had done so far had any effect; all of her arrows had been absorbed into the creature, and any attempts at wielding magic against it had been equally futile.

As for the Meddler, he had risen near the ceiling and was simply observing silently. Sylvanas was at her wit's end. She was a ranger, not a mage, and magic had never really been her focus, so she was unsure of how to deal with this problem.

From the way the Meddler acted, it was obviously within her power to destroy this obstacle, but she could not understand how.

"You are thinking too much about it, my dear. It is not a matter of magical aptitude; it is a matter of understanding the power you wield. The Void was born of The End. It embodies the same principle – All things end," Meddler's silky voice whispered in her ear.

His words only served to confuse Sylvanas and distract her, and the abomination took advantage of her stillness to deliver a punishing blow, sending her crashing into the wall.

Sylvanas fell limply to the ground, her entire body throbbing in pain from the massive blow. A disappointed sigh sounded in her ear. "Do you really think it is pain you feel? Or do you simply believe you should feel pain, so you do? You are not a mortal anymore; the flesh you once inhabited is only an echo now, only ingrained familiarity binds you to it," Meddler spoke once more. Sparing a quick glance at him, she saw him floating just as unbothered as he had been ever since the fight started.

At the rumbling approach of the creature, Sylvanas gritted her teeth in anger. It was easy for him to say that! That does not mean she understands what he expects her to do! As the massive arm of the creature moved to slam into her once more, she tried to recall all the times she had seen and felt him use his power to find a way.

Just before she became nothing but a paste on the floor, her body exploded into darkness and flowed around the arm moving towards her and even the creature itself. Sylvanas reformed, harshly breathing on her knees some distance away. She brought up her hands to her face and simply looked at her hands, slowly moving her fingers.

For a moment, she had glimpsed nothingness, the yawning Void of emptiness where nothing existed. It scared her like nothing ever had.

Still, as she stood, a mere glimpse was all it took for her to realize what the Meddler meant.

Chains shot out, binding the creature in place, and no matter how it struggled, it was unable to break free. Sylvanas took a deep breath and concentrated, her eyes closing as everything around her disappeared.

Seeing this, the Meddler, for the first time, turned to look at what was happening below him. A smirk grew on his face as he felt Sylvanas finally use the power she had been granted properly.

The moment Sylvanas felt that she had it, her eyes shot open, her arm shot out, the fingers on her hand splayed wide. The creature roared in anger and desperation, as N'Zoth no doubt felt what was happening.

The creature's struggles to escape increased, but it was for naught. Slowly, ever so slowly at first, it began to… disappear. Parts of it simply vanished as if they had never existed at all.

And with a final roar of exertion, Sylvanas forced what remained of the abomination to cease to exist before falling to the ground in exhaustion. She did not feel magically or even physically exhausted; no, she felt mentally exhausted.

To reduce something to pure nothingness, it was horrifying, and she understood something else – her will had to be strong enough to be able to do it. For if she failed to resist, The End would consume her as well.

Slow steps beside her made her weakly look up. The Meddler had set himself down and was looking at her with a pleased and proud look. He reached down and raised her up in his arms in a bridal carry, never losing his look.

"Well done, darling," he said at last before leaning in to kiss her. Tiredly, Sylvanas returned it before breaking it and leaning her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes to rest.

~~~~

Alleria's head shot up as an unsettling feeling washed over her. She readied her bow, unsure if an attack was imminent or if it was something else. Her head swiveled around, but she could not see anything.

For there was nothing to see. The nothingness of the Void surrounded her, ever since she had come here to learn. Some moments, she harbored doubts about what she was doing, but it was too late to turn back.

"Is something the matter?" The distorted voice of her mentor, Locus-Walker, brought her attention to him.

Alleria looked at him, unsure how to explain. "I… don't know. I just… it felt as if something had happened, but I don't understand what." Her confusion radiated from her; never before in her life had she felt something like that.

Locus-Walker turned fully towards her, his own apprehensions rising. Such feelings while in the Void were not to be discarded. "Was it connected to something?" He asked, determined to find the source.

Alleria considered it for a moment, trying to pinpoint it. "My sisters, no, sister. It happened when I thought of Sylvanas-" The moment she uttered her sister's name, a ripple echoed as if something had been simply waiting for that moment.

Locus-Walker jerked around, fear radiating from him as Alleria looked equally apprehensively around them. Locus-Walker quickly turned towards Alleria while opening a portal. "We must go. Now!" He said, moving towards the portal, and Alleria wasted no time following him.

The moment she stepped through the portal, she shielded her eyes from the brightness, having not been anywhere with any sort of light for a long time. Once her eyesight cleared, she saw Locus-Walker weaving spells all around them frantically.

Alleria wanted to ask questions, but she did not wish to break his concentration. Only when Locus-Walker had lowered his arms and stopped casting magic did she speak up. "What was that?"

Locus-Walker turned towards her silently and simply gazed at her for a moment. "Why did mentioning Syl-" "Do not speak the name!" Locus-Walker quickly called out, the order in his voice making Alleria take a step back.

Locus-Walker brought up his hands and cupped them before him as a ball of Void grew between them, into which he gazed. "I do not know why or how, but your sister has angered the Void." He spoke silently, still gazing into the orb of Void between his hands.

Frustratedly, he dispelled it. "I cannot see! It hides her and what she has done." Locus-Walker fell silent.

While Alleria felt fear, what had her sister done? Alleria gnawed on her lip, gazing at the lost in thought Locus-Walker. "Can you take us to my world?"

Locus-Walker looked at her. "I am unsu-" Was all he managed to say before darkness rose up and swallowed them both, and the ground beneath them.

~~~~

Sylvanas stirred once the Meddler put her down, opening her eyes she beheld a room of enormous size, and emptiness. For the only thing in it was a raised platform in the middle.

There were statues of male and female-looking beings around the circular room, all gazing down at the center of it. She felt an unsettling feeling from their gaze. "Judgmental cunts, aren't they?" Meddler snorted as he continued to walk towards the center of the room.

"What?" Sylvanas spoke with some confusion. The Meddler waved his hand, gesturing at the statues. "These are the Titans, bringers of order to the cosmos," he spoke grandly, raising his hands up and spinning towards her.

Sylvanas's eyes widened as she looked more closely at the statues now, seeing how each of them differed so much from one another.

"They think they're the epitome of intellect and virtue, expecting everyone else to bow down to their supposed brilliance. It's not just their arrogance, though that's a big part of it. It's their whole attitude - like they've got this grand vision for how the cosmos should be, and they expect everyone else to fall in line without question. They create this aura of infallibility, expecting everyone to comply with their every whim, as if they're the ultimate authorities on everything. It's like they've got this inflated sense of self-importance, and they'll do anything to maintain their power and control over lesser beings," Meddler sneered as he hatefully described the Titans.

He faced one particular statue, which looked like a wise old man with a long flowing beard, furrowed brows, and narrowed eyes. The next moment, the statue exploded, after which the others followed suit, till nothing remained but rubble.

"Their time will come," he muttered as he resumed his walk to the center of the room.

As he finally stood upon the raised platform, he raised his arms as Void gathered at his feet. Sylvanas heard the turning of gears and felt the rising magic; she began to look cautiously around, seeing the ground disappear, she jumped up and began to float.

There, deep below, she saw it. There was no question as to what it was; N'Zoth was under them. Seeing his tentacles rushing up, she readied to defend herself, but they crashed into what she now understood was the transparent floor.

While inaudible to her ears, she could feel N'Zoth's rage in the Void, could feel him attempting to press upon her will, to bind her, to subjugate her.

Sadly for him, Sylvanas had tested her will against The End itself, and before it, N'Zoth could not compare. Sylvanas spared a glance at the Meddler as a thought struck her – was that why he insisted on her dealing with the creature? No doubt it was; once more, he had ensured the success of his own plan.

Still, what would he have done had she failed? Aborted this attempt? Discarded her? Despite his frequent assurances of being fond of her, she did not doubt that it would only extend so far.

"Oh, will you stop it already?" Meddler groaned at her thoughts. He turned and looked up at her. "Do you not realize yet? We will never part; I chose you. Not even death will part us. Only The End can sever our bond." As he finished speaking, she felt a pull as she was drawn to him, after which he embraced her.

"Our old lives have passed. We can never be who we were before." He raised a hand and gently caressed her face. "If there is one thing I regret, it is that I forced it upon you." Sylvanas could feel genuine regret in his voice over the fact. For a moment, she was silent, thinking about all that had happened ever since she met this… man.

The twists and turns her life had taken, spiraling out of her control, the good and the bad. She gnawed on her lip in indecision, till finally she wrapped her own arms around him and leaned in. "I forgive you." Her lips found his as the void cocooned them, hiding them and the room from view.
 
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