Inside the room, the magical light sources powered by the Well of Eternity emitted a soft glow. With a casual snap of her fingers, Vashj extinguished the main lights, leaving only the cool moonlight filtering in from the balcony—mixed with the azure aura of the Well—to drape the room in an ambiguous veil.
Looking at the stunning woman before him—the head handmaiden with her lithe figure and a hint of coquetry in her eyes—Rhodes let a meaningful smile play across his lips. Now he finally knew why Illidan's smile had been so strange when Rhodes first met Vashj in the future. After all this time, he'd found the reason.
I always thought Vashj was chasing Illidan, but it turns out it was me all along? However, due to certain events or perhaps the influence of a powerful entity, Vashj's memories—specifically her memories of him—had been erased. He wondered if they would return once he went back. He was curious: who was this mysterious being capable of wiping everyone's memory while leaving only Illidan, Tyrande, Malfurion, and the demigod Cenarius intact? An ordinary Titanic Watcher shouldn't have that kind of power. It seemed ten thousand years ago wasn't as simple as he'd thought.
Vashj didn't panic when Rhodes pulled her into his arms; instead, she let out a playful, melodic hum.
"Lord Rhodes is... quite impatient," Vashj whispered, turning her head toward him. "I don't understand why you refused the Queen just now. Surely the Queen is far more beautiful than I am?"
Among all the handmaidens, she considered herself at the top in terms of beauty, but there was a clear gap between her and the Light of Lights. For him to reject the Queen and come to her was strange. Surely he wasn't really afraid of the dark? That was a pathetic excuse.
Rhodes didn't answer. He ran his fingers lightly over her exposed arm. As he expected, under the moonlight, the pale violet skin of the Night Elf seemed to possess its own faint luminescence. To the touch, it was cool and smooth like the finest silk, yet possessed the unique elasticity of the Elven race. One had to admit, the attire of the court handmaidens was incredibly provocative—Ancient Greek priestess style, mostly white gowns that left the legs, arms, and back bare.
"Indeed... the rumors don't do it justice," Rhodes whispered. The tactile sensation was addictive. Leaning close to her ear, he brushed his hand against her pointed ear. "I wonder, Lady Vashj, if you could tell me more about Archmage Xavius?"
Flirting was one thing, but intelligence gathering was the mission.
Vashj looped her arms around Rhodes's neck, pressing her body closer to his, her breath sweet as lilies. "My lord... that depends on your performance. If I am pleased, I might just tell you." Her voice carried a hint of sweetness, like the enchanted wine of the Night Elves. She was truly a handmaiden of Azshara; rumors said these maids played "games" with the Queen, and Rhodes wondered how much truth there was to that.
Rhodes hesitated no longer. He swept her up in his arms and headed for the center of the room. Time to show you my real skills. The Light shall bring you to justice!
Moonlight flowed like water through the carved balcony railings, spilling over the intertwined figures. Through the long night, whispers and soft laughter drifted through the room. Vashj's violet skin shimmered dreamily in the moonlight, like a mysterious violet blooming in the night, looking like a statue of polished jade.
"I know what you're fishing for... Archmage Xavius has rarely shown himself lately," Vashj whispered, lying across Rhodes's chest, her fingertips tracing idle patterns over his skin with post-coital laziness. "Word is he's preparing an extremely important ritual that requires massive amounts of energy from the Well... Her Majesty has high hopes for it. She's even mobilized a large number of Highborne mages to assist him."
Rhodes's heart skipped a beat. An important ritual? Massive energy? A legion of mages? This was likely the key step to opening the portal for the Burning Legion. The early summons only brought through elite units like Hakkar the Houndmaster or Mannoroth. Speaking of Mannoroth—this would be the second time Rhodes dealt with him. If he'd met the pit lord ten thousand years ago, why didn't the demon recognize him ten thousand years later? He'd been in this world for two years now, and having read the War of the Ancients trilogy ten years ago, some details were getting fuzzy.
"Oh? What kind of ritual requires such a fuss?" Rhodes asked casually, his hand moving along her smooth back, causing her to let out a contented sigh.
Vashj looked up, glancing at him. "That is beyond my clearance, Lord Rhodes. Xavius's affairs are always shrouded in secrecy. However... I overheard the Queen mention once that it was to... welcome a supreme 'Messenger'."
Messenger! Rhodes was certain. That meant the vanguard of the Burning Legion.
"A supreme messenger... It seems the Queen and Xavius are planning something that will change the fate of the empire," Rhodes said.
"Who can say?" Vashj sighed, her tone complex. The palace had been restless lately; the Queen was preparing for guests—the messengers of that "god."
"I only hope this change is for the better. By the way, Lord Rhodes, you seem to know much about Lord Sargeras. What kind of god is he? Is he merciful? Does he truly possess infinite power?"
"He has power that is essentially unparalleled in the physical universe," Rhodes described the terror of the Fallen Titan. "He was the champion of the Pantheon, the strongest force in the cosmos, and the founder of the Burning Legion. He once split a planet in half with a single swing of his sword. Imagine Azeroth being destroyed with one strike."
"Then he truly possesses unimaginable power. Her Majesty was right; he is a god," Vashj mused. Rhodes smiled but didn't elaborate. The Highborne were already rotten to the core; the invasion had to happen for the Well to be destroyed, so he wouldn't stop the wheel of fate.
The two talked for a while longer before falling into a deep sleep. As dawn broke, Vashj rose and left. After tidying her appearance and straightening her uniform, she went to the highest level of the palace. Queen Azshara was sitting in a gazebo, sipping wine. Seeing her personal maid, the Queen offered a sly smile.
"It seems you succeeded, Vashj. And here I thought he was so formidable! To dare refuse me... it seems your charm is greater than mine."
Vashj immediately knelt. "Your Majesty, I do not believe he ignored your beauty. He is clearly infatuated with you. When I was with him, I could feel how much he desired you. He refused you only because he fears Sargeras—he fears the Great God. He may be an astral traveler, but he lacks the courage to become the rival of a god."
"Heh, I thought he'd be bolder! Even I am not afraid, yet he is?" Azshara sneered. Her confidence was restored; it wasn't a lack of her charm, but a lack of his spine. "After all, you are the Light of Lights, and he is just a common traveler."
"He is far from common," Azshara said, her expression turning solemn. "In the bath, I intended to kill him or imprison him to take his knowledge. But my sixth sense told me that if I tried, I would be the one who died."
"How could he compare to the Light of Lights?" Vashj interjected.
"Heh. What else did he ask you?"
"He asked about Archmage Xavius. He seemed very concerned with his activities."
"I see. Vashj, your mission is to continue serving this traveler. Report your interactions to me daily."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Around noon the next day, Rhodes woke up and stretched. There was a knock at the door, and Vashj entered pushing a cart of pastries and fruit.
"You're up late, Lord Rhodes. Your breakfast—or lunch—is served."
"Last night was a workout," Rhodes joked. "Discussing your Queen and admiring the violet bloom that is you... it's only natural I'd sleep in. You, on the other hand, are up quite early." Truly, the ox dies of exhaustion while the field remains fertile, he thought, noting how well she'd recovered.
"Early rising is a maid's duty," Vashj smiled, setting the table. "Eat quickly. The Queen is busy today, but you are free to wander and experience the culture of the empire."
"Excellent. I'm very curious about your people."
In the following days, Rhodes settled into a routine at court. Every morning, he was summoned to Azshara's private study or terrace to tell her stories of other worlds. He skillfully filtered the information, blending Earth's technological wonders with plots from sci-fi novels. He spoke of skyscrapers and information networks, and the concepts of interstellar flight—satisfying her curiosity without revealing any core secrets.