Cenarius's words sent a chill through Rhodes's heart. The instability of the Well of Eternity was an unmistakable harbinger of the Burning Legion's large-scale invasion. Under Azshara's silent approval—or rather, her direct leadership—the Highborne were tirelessly utilizing the Well's energy to construct a stable portal to the Twisting Nether. Sargeras's avatar, and the main force of his Legion, were already stirring.
Since traversing to this ancient era, Rhodes had lived in Azshara's palace for nearly four months, followed by over seven months of studying life magic with Cenarius. It had been almost a year. Thinking about it, the "Time-Traveler Trio" (Rhonin, Krasus, and Broxigar) should be arriving soon. Rhodes had initially thought he would arrive with them, but he had beaten them to the punch.
With the Legion's invasion imminent, it was time for Rhodes to reap some rewards. He even felt bold enough this time to consider challenging Sargeras himself. After all, Cenarius had explicitly stated that the orc hero, Broxigar, did not perish by jumping into the portal during the original timeline of the War of the Ancients in this specific reality's memory.
"Teacher, I also feel an investigation is necessary. I agree with Rhodes, and I can go with him," Malfurion said.
"You are right, Rhodes. I have nothing left to teach you; the exploration of the path of Life is now up to you," Cenarius nodded. "How do you plan to investigate?"
"The fluctuations in the Well are no small matter. Queen Azshara and her advisors... I fear they have wandered onto a dangerous path. I must return to find out exactly what they are doing and how far they've gone. Before I left, I fought a Highborne mage named Xavius. In addition to arcane power, he used Fel—a truly malevolent energy," Rhodes explained.
"No," Cenarius countered. "Your status is too unique. Azshara does not like Druids, and you are my disciple. Rhodes was formerly her advisor, so he is safe, but you, Malfurion, are not suited for a direct entry. Perhaps we need someone with internal knowledge who can provide a legitimate cover for Rhodes." Cenarius looked toward Malfurion.
If a major war were to break out, Malfurion was better suited to leading a Druid army than executing a stealth mission. For that, someone like Illidan might be more appropriate.
Malfurion's eyes lit up as if remembering something. "I understand, Teacher! Illidan sent word a few days ago. He finished his rotation at the outer watchtowers and returned to Suramar. Because of his 'outstanding performance' in arcane research, he was given a field promotion to an auxiliary research group within the Court Mages. He can access non-core but significant affairs. He even sent a messenger yesterday saying he wanted to visit the Grove... er, mostly to see Tyrande."
Malfurion sounded a bit awkward. The brothers used to be close, but things had changed as they reached adulthood. Both loved Tyrande. Malfurion respected her choice, but Tyrande clearly favored the steady Malfurion over the rash, impulsive Illidan. When the two became disciples of Cenarius, Malfurion excelled, earning high praise. Illidan, however, had no interest in life spells or the Druidic way; he craved the raw power of the Arcane.
Cenarius, repulsed by this, terminated their master-disciple relationship and told Illidan to seek his "path of magic" in the capital. This created a natural opportunity for Malfurion and Tyrande. Between the Priestess of Elune and the Druid, a romance slowly blossomed. By the time Illidan realized it, it was too late. Their relationship had soured completely, though Malfurion hoped they could still agree on matters of great importance.
Hearing Illidan's name, Rhodes felt a wave of nostalgia. Ten thousand years in the future, he and Illidan were staunch allies. Illidan Stormrage—a name that, in Rhodes's original timeline, represented legend, controversy, sacrifice, and redemption. He was the Betrayer to the Night Elves, a prisoner, and yet a savior. Rhodes had fought alongside him against the Legion, hunted Dreadlords, and even stormed the Black Temple to face Kil'jaeden together. Illidan had even helped train Rhodes's "Grand Demon Hunter" corps.
To think his "first" formal meeting with this old friend across ten millennia would happen like this.
"Illidan... if it's him, he could indeed provide significant help," Rhodes said.
"In that case, Malfurion, contact him. Arrange a meeting place. Not at the Grove—the demigod presence and natural energy here are too dense and might draw unwanted attention. Meet at the edge of Ashenvale, near the woodlands where the Well's influence is weaker."
"Yes, Teacher," Malfurion agreed.
After discussing the details, the two left the demigod's domain. Only Rhodes and Malfurion would go; Illidan's relationship with Cenarius was frosty at best, and the demigod had no desire to see him.
On the eastern edge of Ashenvale, where the thrum of the Well of Eternity was a distant echo, the ancient trees still stood tall, though flickers of purple arcane light occasionally danced through the leaves.
When Rhodes and Malfurion arrived, someone was already there. Moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting a soft glow on Tyrande Whisperwind's white priestess robes. Standing beside her, speaking with exaggerated passion, was a Night Elf male who looked seventy percent like Malfurion but possessed a completely different aura: Illidan Stormrage.
Where Malfurion was as steady as a mountain, Illidan carried a flamboyant confidence and a sharp edge. At this point, Illidan was not yet the blindfolded, tattooed Demon Hunter with the Twin Blades of Azzinoth. He was a brilliant, ambitious young mage whose eyes still glowed with the amber light of Arcane potential.
"Dearest Tyrande, look! This is 'Twilight Moonshadow Crystal,' recently refined in the court workshops. Its purity far exceeds ordinary moonstone. I've even enchanted it with a small Tranquility array, perfect for when you pray to the Moon Goddess. It will help you feel Elune's embrace more easily... I specifically requested a sample to bring to you first! Only a priestess as devout and... and beautiful as you deserves its radiance!" His tone was fervent, almost clumsy in its boyish flattery, his eyes locked on her as if the rest of the world didn't exist. He completely ignored Rhodes and Malfurion's approach.
Tyrande offered a polite, somewhat helpless smile, stepping back slightly. She caught Malfurion's eye with an embarrassed look. "Thank you, Illidan. You are always so... thoughtful. But this is too precious. If it's a court sample, would it be inappropriate for me to accept?" She clearly had no intention of taking it.
Rhodes shook his head inwardly. This idiot. Priestesses of the Moon loved nature and simplicity; ornate jewelry was the domain of the Highborne. He'd have had better luck with a bouquet of wild flowers.
"Appropriate! More than appropriate!" Illidan interjected, his golden eyes shining. "You are a High Priestess of Elune! What is one crystal? Once I've secured my position at court and gained more authority, even better things—"
"Ahem!" A deliberate, displeased cough interrupted him.
Malfurion and Rhodes stepped from the shadows. Malfurion's expression was dark; no one enjoys seeing their brother so passionately "court" the woman they are already involved with.
Rhodes followed behind, watching with amusement. Wow, the 'Lord of Outland' in his youth is a total simp. The sheer thickness of his skin is already showing... but Tyrande isn't buying it at all.
Illidan stiffened and turned. Seeing Malfurion, the warmth in his eyes cooled into annoyance. But when his gaze landed on Rhodes, the stranger, it instantly sharpened into wariness. He felt the extraordinary, restrained power radiating from Rhodes—a concentrated life essence that rivaled Cenarius.
Illidan was stunned. Who is this? Is the rumor true? Has a new Wild God really been born?