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Authors: William King

Illidan (33 page)

BOOK: Illidan
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She raced up the stairs. Somewhere above her she sensed titanic energies being unleashed. She recognized them as being wielded by the Betrayer. It looked as if the final battle had started without her. She raced on toward the conflict, praying to Elune that she would not be too late to mete judgment.

—

T
HE PALADIN BROUGHT HER
gleaming hammer crashing down. It hit the ground in front of Illidan, splintering the stonework. He leapt into the air, wings beating powerfully, and surveyed his attackers. He spread his arms wide and called once more upon the power of flames. A huge fireball blasted down in the midst of his enemies. A warrior raced from the firestorm, burning cloak blazing behind him like the tail of a comet.

Illidan focused his gaze on the ground before him, summoning blue demon fire. A druid rushed into it. It clung to her form, burning her even as she rolled on the floor in an attempt to extinguish the flames.

Lightning bolts smashed up at Illidan from the ground. The air turned cold as one particularly bold wizard attempted to draw on the strength of ice to neutralize his power. Illidan sent a barrage of shadowy bolts raining down on him. The mage howled as they ravaged his flesh.

Now it was time to show these fools the true meaning of power.

He tossed his warglaives to the ground and then called upon the power within them. “I will not be touched by rabble such as you! Behold the flames of Azzinoth.”

Twin flame elementals leapt forth in answer to his call. A line of fire linked them. They swarmed toward his attackers, who moved into a defensive circle.

The Betrayer took advantage of this distraction to rest. Beneath him the invaders lashed at his summonings with enchanted weapons and a barrage of spells. Another pair fell before they could overcome the burning elementals.

Illidan marshaled the last of his strength, determined to slay as many of his foes as he could before death had a chance to claim him.

He plunged down amid his attackers, drawing once more upon his fel power. It encased his form, transforming him into something gigantic, demonic, unstoppable. He lashed out with bursts of flame, incinerating his foes, burning flesh and blood and spirit.

A warlock cloaked with spells of protection charged at him, staff raised high. Illidan struck at her, but the wards surrounding the warlock neutralized some of the power of his blow. More and more spells hammered at him. He felt corruption seeded within his flesh. It started to rot. He imbued the shadows surrounding his body with a fragment of his will and then separated them off to bedevil his attackers. He did this again and again as his opponents attacked.

He sent waves of hellish fire sweeping over them. It was getting harder to kill his foes, either because he was weaker than at the start of the fight or because all the easiest enemies to slay were down. The constant hammering of the magical bolts was draining his strength. The enemy attacks reached a crescendo as his foes desperately tried to bring him down.

Then came a moment of calm. He had ridden out the storm. He stood upright, glared at his opponents, and said, “Is this it, mortals? Is this all the fury you can muster?”

A cold, familiar voice echoed across the summit. “Their fury pales before mine, Illidan. We have some unsettled business between us.”

Illidan turned his head. An all-too-familiar armored figure stood there, weapon at the ready. At first he wondered if it was an illusion, a specter summoned from the depths of his imagination by some spell. His spectral sight told him otherwise. The figure had weight and mass and presence. He knew that armor well. He knew that blade. He recognized the arrogant superiority of the voice and stance. No doubt about it. Warden Maiev was here.

Rage boiled within him. He struggled to speak. All this time, he had her within his grasp and had not killed her. Now she was here. Memories of his long imprisonment flooded back. “Maiev…” How was it even possible?

But he already knew the answer. Akama. He had been responsible for her imprisonment.

Akama's cohorts drew themselves up in a new battle line. They seemed to have gained strength and confidence from Maiev's presence and his discomfiture.

Illidan could almost see the cruel smile curving Maiev's lips beneath her helmet. “Ah, my long hunt is finally over,” she said. “Today, justice will be done.”

—

M
AIEV LAUNCHED HERSELF FORWARD,
blade swirling in her hand. Illidan tried to stop her. Evil shadows clawed at her. Waves of fire swept over her. Yet her armor protected her as she closed the distance. She lashed out at the Betrayer. He parried. They stood for a moment, breast-to-breast, close as lovers. She sensed the blazing fury in him, the pent-up hatred and energy.

She unleashed the spell she had brooded on during her months of imprisonment. The enchantment glittered on the ground before her and she stepped back from it. The Betrayer pounced, activating the spell. Bonds of energy lashed out from the trap, draining power from him. His face twisted as he realized what was happening.

Akama's allies rushed into the fray, weapons bared, spells glittering in the air. Weapons thundered home. Illidan slashed at them, twisting to avoid their blows, countering their spells, but he had lost some of his fury. He stumbled forward into another trap Maiev had unleashed. The Azerothians pursued him as he reeled under the impact of the magic.

Maiev had eyes only for her ancient enemy. She knew, as surely as he did, that this would be their final meeting. One of them was not going to walk away from this. She thought of Anyndra, Sarius, and all the others who had died along the road to this moment. She thought about her own imprisonment. It had sharpened her hunger for justice. Her entire life had been leading up to this.

Maiev's and Illidan's weapons flickered too fast for the eye to follow. Blade parried blade. Ward countered destructive spell. Whatever Illidan threw at her, she neutralized. Victory rode on her every stroke. She was going to win. She could tell from his expression that Illidan understood this, too.

More spells smashed into him. She wanted to tell the others to stop. She wished to defeat him one-on-one, to enjoy a solitary triumph, but it was too late for that. She would have to settle for seeing justice executed.

The ending came suddenly. A flicker of steel and spells blurred the air and her blade bit home, passing through ribs, biting into flesh, seeking the heart that still beat in Illidan's demonically mutated chest.

For a moment, he attempted to strike back. His lips twisted into an arrogant sneer. He looked as if he was about to utter another spell, but then the realization of what happened hit him, along with the pain, and he crumpled to his knees.

—

I
LLIDAN LOOKED UP IN DISBELIEF.
His gaze met Maiev's. Her eyes glared down coldly at him. Her stare belonged to a predator that had finally dragged down its prey. There was satisfaction there, and madness, and something else. She had killed him, but she did not realize what she had done.

“It is finished,” she said. “You are beaten.”

Feeling the pain exploding in his chest, he knew the truth of her words. His time had finally run out. All those long years of study, of fighting, of imprisonment were done. He looked at her and felt a fleeting moment of sympathy for her. She did not understand that it was over for her, too. He forced the words from his lips. “You have won…Maiev. But the huntress…is nothing without the hunt. You…are nothing…without me.”

Blackness swept over him. Just for a moment he had a vision of a sigil, the same one the naaru had placed on his forehead. It blazed in lines of golden light for an instant, and then the universe went dark.

—

M
AIEV STOOD OVER THE CORPSE
of Illidan. Her eyes narrowed as she studied her prey to make sure he was dead.

She was not certain what exactly she was waiting for. The exultation of triumph. The pleasure of a victory long delayed. Nothing came.

His corpse looked merely shabby in death. All the power, all the magnificence, had drained out of it. Here lay just another monster who had proved fodder to her blade. Looking at Illidan's body, she thought,
This is what I spent all the long millennia of my life trying to achieve?
It did not seem to be enough for the expenditure of all those years and all those lives.

She thought about his words. Had there been a spell woven into them, a last curse from the fallen lord of Outland? She inspected the weave of defensive spells around her and found them intact. If Illidan had cursed her, it was with greater subtlety than any mage in history.

No. There was no magic in his words. Only truth. She had dedicated so much of her life to hunting the Betrayer that now she felt lost. She was hollow.

“He is right,” she said softly. “I feel nothing. I am nothing.” She looked at Akama's allies. Were they responsible for this? Had they robbed her of her triumph by their presence? In a moment of near madness, she considered attacking them, but she pushed the thought from her mind.

“Farewell, champions,” she said. She barely glanced at the returning Akama as she swept from the summit.

—

A
KAMA WATCHED
M
AIEV LEAVE.
The Broken had driven off the Betrayer's reinforcements to give his allies time to slay Illidan, and slay him they had, with the help of the mighty night elf. He would have liked to thank her, but he was relieved she was gone. There was no telling what one so violent, impulsive, and powerful would do under these circumstances. She had reason to hate him. He was glad she had not tried to take vengeance on him as well.

Akama looked down on the body of his former master. It looked smaller now, and when he bent to lift it, it felt lighter than that of a child, as if all weight had left it with the spirit of its owner. There was still a mystery here. Where were the demon hunters? Why had they not entered the fray? He had sensed the portal Illidan had opened. If they had gone through it, where did it lead? Had they really gone to Argus? He pushed the thoughts aside. These were problems for another day. Now he must deal with the consequences of victory.

The summit looked as if demons had made war in it. Stone had melted and flowed like lava. Patches of shadow clung where no shadow should have been.

This place would need to be purified, he thought. Shrines would need to be built, services for the fallen to be held. There was a lot of work to be done here. But his people could do it. They were whole once more, and together there was nothing they could not achieve.

“The Light will fill these dismal halls once again,” he said. “I swear it.”

Then he turned and limped away from where the lord of Outland had fallen.

—

V
ANDEL WOKE, IF IT
could be called waking. His arm was scarred where Maiev's blade had bit into it. His wounds had knit together, but he felt weak. His skull ached from a huge gash.

Glancing around, he saw that the training grounds were full of Aldor and Scryer fighters. They chanted victory songs, swigged from one another's canteens, slapped one another on the back. All the rivalries between the two factions seemed to be forgotten.

Among the soldiers were the Ashtongue. There was a new confidence about the Broken. They moved with purpose, not listlessness. They eyed their surroundings with the air of owners who had newly come into their heritage.

Vandel tested his limbs. They still worked. He crawled into a patch of shadow and willed himself invisible.

“The Betrayer is dead!” shouted a blood elf triumphantly. The announcement was greeted with cheers. He could hear them echo around the vast courtyard where once the Dragonmaw had gathered their mighty steeds and demons sworn to the service of Illidan had walked.

Could it be true? Looking at the aftermath of the carnage, Vandel could not see how it could not be. He thought about the threat of the Burning Legion. What would happen now that the only leader who had ever understood its true magnitude was gone? Where were Vandel's fellows?

He reached out with his senses, stretching them to the limits as he tried to find another demon hunter. They were all vanished, as if they had never been. Could they all be dead? Was he the last? Was Illidan's great war finished before it had even begun?

Black despair swept over him. In the midst of the songs of triumph, he felt like weeping. These would-be heroes had no understanding of the damage they had done.

All was lost. There was nothing more to do here. He could throw himself into their midst, striking right and left until he was cut down for certain this time. He looked at the amulet he had made for Khariel so long ago. There would be no vengeance. He rose to attack, drew on the fel energies that would let him slay and slay.

Then he heard it, Illidan's familiar voice, a whisper so faint that it might have come from the far edge of the universe or the other side of death, or from the deepest recesses of his memory.

You must be prepared.

He paused for a moment, restraining the urge to violence. The voice sounded too real to be a mere memory. It was as if the Betrayer was speaking to him as when he had summoned him for the final time. Was it possible that some remnant of his spirit survived?

There would be time to think about such things later. Now there was still work to be done. Demons to be slain. Revenge to be taken. Perhaps he could pass on the message, train others, try to be ready for the final days, when the Burning Legion reappeared seeking ultimate victory.

He drew upon his demon's energies, stepped deeper into shadow, and vanished into the night.

NOTES

The story you've just read is based in part on characters, situations, and locations from Blizzard Entertainment's computer game
World of Warcraft,
an online role-playing experience set in the award-winning Warcraft universe. In
World of Warcraft,
players create their own heroes and explore, adventure in, and quest across a vast world shared with thousands of other players. This rich and evolving game also allows them to interact with and fight against (or alongside) many of the powerful and intriguing characters featured in this novel.

Since launching in November 2004,
World of Warcraft
has become the world's most popular subscription-based massively multiplayer online role-playing game. The upcoming expansion,
Legion,
will show what happens next to Maiev and the Illidari demon hunters as they battle the Burning Legion's latest invasion of Azeroth. More information about
Legion
and the current expansion,
Warlords of Draenor,
can be found on
WorldofWarcraft.com
.

BOOK: Illidan
8.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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