Jaegar summoned the black fire, his second flame, darker and more consuming than the red. The black flames erupted around him in a protective sphere, and when the wooden branches touched the dark fire, they didn't just burn.
They ceased to exist, erased from reality as if they had never been.
Wi'thas's eyes widened slightly.
"Oh. Oh, that's new. That's wonderful.
Black fire?
Where did you learn that abomination?"
"It's not learned," Jaegar said, his voice tight with concentration as he maintained the sphere of annihilation around himself.
"And I won't say."
"Your mother's gift?"
Wi'thas said, understanding dawned in those mad eyes.
"Augusta's chaos touch. She could unmake things, couldn't she? And you inherited a version of it through flame?"
He was guessing, but that wasn't true.
The blood elf began to circle, his movements predatory.
"Show me more, little spark. Show me what else you've been hiding."
