86th chapter betrayal

She was not in her place of power. The world was neither bright nor gleaming in snow. It was dark and hard, breaking her heart every moment she wasted there. The power returned and the mission was clear. This was the end of the team and the ascend of something greater. But first something needed to be done that no one had dared to. The mission was clear.

Tables were being turned in the mansion by the lake Elune‘ara. Roots held a dark hand in place in front of Manvalas‘s face. Exen‘tors face was distorted in rage and demonic corruption. The right half seemed to burn with dark fires, fueling his rage. Exen‘tor lay atop Manvalas trying to land a hit on him, Sand swirled around them in a frenzied dance of elements as trees grew from the floor battling the sands.
“IT‘S A LIE!” Exen‘tor spat out, every word trembling and shaking.
Manvalas raised his fist and punched Exen’tor in the face.
“Of course its not! Why would i lie to you?!”
“ITS A LIE! IT HAS TO BE.” Exen‘tor grabbed him by the collar and looked him in the eye.
“It has to be a lie! You must be lying or someone has been lying to you! OUTLAND IS OUR UTOPIA!”
Manvalas punched him again and yelled back:”NO IT‘S NOT! Illidan has gone mad abusing the draenei as slaves and the blood elves as cannon fodder. Outland is a place ripped apart by conflict and blood.”
Exen‘tor punched Manvalas back: Outland is the place we‘ve dreamt of for years!
“You‘ve been dreaming for so long that the dream has taken over reality. Your dream is a nightmare! If you don‘t trust me, trust this! “
A burst of images swept through Exen‘tors mind. Memories and conversations played through his mind a hundred times over.

He saw Illidan alone in his throne room, corruption taking over and transforming the once proud night elf into something pitiful and disgusting. His runes glowed wildly and the aura that emanated from him was dark and dreadful. Another image swept through of his battle versus Arthas, except this time it ended with Arthas‘s head on his sword, and the next one the same except for Arthas being cut into thousand pieces the next one where he screamed for mercy and on it went in similar fashion. Exen‘tor saw outland and the black citadel, he saw the enslavement of the Draenei, the senseless slaughter of his brethren the brainwashing s of the nagas. He saw a world gone mad a hundred times. He saw dreams shattering before his eyes live brought o ruin his purpose eliminated. He saw his own dream fall before him. He saw outland and Illidan for what they were.
He screamed as his world fell around him a hundred times. And Manvalas stood up and watched with great sadness.

From the corners of his eyes he caught the glimpse of Wisim as he almost ran towards Sira‘dreth‘s house. A minute later he saw as Sira’dreth walked out from house only to collapse on the banks of Elune‘ara. Manvalas screamed. Wisim stepped out from the house, his hands all bloody. Manvalas was filled with rage as he ran down the stairs under the symphony of Exen’tors broken dreams.


Wisim was angry as he walked towards her house. He let a stream of magic run through his hands in a little ball and then exploded the ball with a little „pop“ sound. He did this with every step, just a little something to do to keep him calm.
Exen’tor had told him. Sira’dreth had attacked Mizra with clear intent on killing her on their voyage to get him. This could not be forgiven so easily.
And what was the deal with that gnome that had then followed them to Moonglade.
No daughter of his would be involved with one not higher than his kneecaps.
The magical ball made a sound and he walked by the mansion. He was practically running towards the strange house they had given Sira’dreth and that Gnome, when he heard some noise inside it.
His anger grew, if they were doing what he though they were doing he could not be held responsible for his actions. He shook that though away. That was impossible. How could they even… no no he was not going to imagine it. The ball made its sound and he saw what was happening in the house.
There were no more balls, there were no more thoughts. There was disbelief and confusion and he felt as if his heart had been ripped from his heart.
He heard Exen’tor scream, he heard the noise, he heard everything without understanding any of it.


Sira’dreth was not in a trance, it was more of a dream–like state of mind. After Frostwind had followed the druids on his gryphon she had felt more happy than she had ever been. Her team was at last joined together, her dreams at last coming true. She was in the most peaceful place in the world and could not be happier. After all the madness after all the fighting and the journeys, they were at last together, waiting only for her sister to wake up to make the portal to outland. She was at last, happy.
She was searching for any traces of the one that hid inside her, but his voice had silenced, his presence gone. She was relieved but knew that the eyes in the dark would return whenever she would be ind anger to seduce her to its powers. But she no longer needed it , she no longer wanted it. At last she was free.

Sira’dreth felt her body scream. She returned to her consciousness only to wish she hadn’t. There was a blade through her heart. A cold pain paralyzed her as she coughed up blood. She felt familiar fingers touch her hair and kiss her head.
She heard Mizra say ever so smoothly with cold feeling of pain in her voice:”I’m sorry.”
Frostwind screamed.


Mizra woke up to the sound of birds on the second day. They had finally defeated their final foe. They would at last be free from this world. How she wished it to be true. How she wished that she had not found that piece of paper from her father’s book. How blissful ignorance really was. A frozen tear fell from her eyes. She did not stand up. She did not show any sign of her awakening. She slept and she delayed her mission. But her mission could not be delayed , the paper had been clear on that. It had said:” history will go in circles and happen as it as happened before. One of you will betray the others and bring their downfall.”
For five days she agonized both in dreams and wake.
For five days she wept frozen tears.
For five days she was in hell while others were in heaven.
And on the fifth day she rose. What must be done must be done.
She tore the leafs from her body and clad herself in a frozen armor,
Her eyes glowed with icy energy and the ground beneath her feet froze when they touched the ground.
She walked out from the house and saw the valley of moonglade, so peaceful and calm. She filled her lungs with fresh air and wonderful smell and was saddened for what she was about to do in this beautiful place.
But it needed to be done. And it had to be her. And it had to be here.
A trail of frozen grass was made as she walked over to the house where Sira’dreth was. She knew exactly where Sira’dreth was. She knew exactly how many flies there were in the valley for that matter. She felt every living being in the valley, felt their pain and happiness.
Right now Exen’tor and Manvalas were arguing heavily about whether or not to go to outland. She felt bad for Exen’tor but she kept going. Her father seemed to be going to them so the rest of the team ought to be too busy to do anything.
The door was wide open. Sira’dreth sat in the middle of the room in some kind of trance, her back exposed beneath her fiery hair. The gnome lay asleep on the bed. Mizra walked into the house a blade slowly forming from the back of her hands.
This needed to be done.
This had to be done.
This was meant to be done.
In one clear thrust she stabbed Sira’dreth in the heart. She felt her life force dwindle.
She felt her try to activate her magma body. But she would not escape from this.
She had to die. And so Mizra ripped the blade from her body. She kissed her on the head, and whispered into her ears.
Frostwind screamed and threw something like a frostball to her head. Mizra cared not and did not feel the magic bite. With a wave she thrust the gnome to the wall where he was frozen stuck. “NOO” he cried as he saw what was happening.
She raised her blade to her sisters throat and looked away.
“MIZRA!”
Her father’s voice stung more than any blade or magic.
“MIZRA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? “He cried as he ran towards Sira’dreth. With a quick maneuver he moved her blade from Sira’dreth throat.
Mizra let him remove her hand, cutting the arteries was a formality now. The only thing keeping her alive right now was her own magic. She would not fight the others.
Wisim raised Sira’dreth up, who for some reason could not only still stand but began to walk.
She walked away from the chair, away from her father and his blood soaked hands, away from her mumbling sister and entangled lover.
It had to be done Mizra said over and over. Wisim charged at her with ferocity and a magic missile in hand. He was stopped short by a cube of ice that formed in thin air.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE” he screamed.
“What was needed. ” she answered.
Sira’dreth walked away from the house and landed on the calm banks of Elune’ara.
Her life force was quickly dwindling away.
Wisim followed, screaming: “oh gods oh gods, WE NEED HELP! WE NEED HEALING!”
Mizra walked to him and said:” no healer can heal her. She is dead.”
“NO SHE ISN’T”! she only needs a little bit of healing.
Wisim held her in his chest. She had stopped coughing up blood, and had almost stopped breathing.
Mizra walked into the lake, the water freezing beneath her feet’s, making path to the center.
“NO!” Wisim cried and screamed at Mizra: “WHY? WHY? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?”
In the middle of the lake Mizra finally stopped and turned to face her father and dying sister: “we had the conclusion all along father. We had the key in our heads. The truth and the meaning of it all. The five symbols of power, five symbols of fall. It all makes sense now. All I am doing is making sure that history doesn’t repeat itself.”
“Trust me, one day you will thank me.”
And she said the rhyme that had been stuck in her head for the past years.
And she raised her wings as the lake churned beneath her feet.
And she rose to the skies in many slow graceful beats.
And once she had reached great heights she flew west. Faster than ever before. As fast as a dragon.

Wisim had no frozen tears, so he shed only normal one they mixed with her daughters blood, the sadness of Manvalas, the cries of Frostwind and the broken dreams of Exen’tor.
The sun shone brightly in the valley of druids.