World of Warcraft: The Shattering: Prelude to Cataclysm Page 0,46

to study, to help people. A priestess brushed past him, smiling gently, her face calm.

Anduin sighed. It was not his fate. He was born a prince, not a priest, and no doubt his destiny included more war, more violence, and would demand of him politicking and maneuvering.

But for now, here in the Hall of Mysteries, Anduin Wrynn—no title at the moment—sat quietly and thought not of his father, or Thrall, or even Jaina, but of a world where anyone could walk into any city and be welcomed there with open arms.

TWELVE

Drek’Thar tossed and turned in his sleep. Visions plucked at him, pinched and teased and tormented him. Half-glimpsed, uncertain, unclear; visions both of peace and prosperity and disaster and ruination playing out simultaneously in the theater of his mind.

He could see in this vision. He stood, and yet there was nothing beneath his feet. All around him were stars and inky black sky, above and below. Images of the Spirits of Earth, Air, Fire, Water—all angry, all unhappy, all raging at him. They reached out to him, pleading, and yet when he turned to them, heart open and trying to understand, rebuffed him with fury so profound he staggered. If they had been children, they would have wept.

Water crashed around him, whipped by Air manifesting as wind. Storms, strong and powerful, catching up ships and snapping them like child’s toys. Cairne and Grom’s boys were on such a ship … no, no, it was Thrall … then it did not matter who was on the ship, for it had been smashed to sodden kindling.

Fire was next, its sparks diving at Drek’Thar like birds protecting a nest. He was powerless under the onslaught, crying out as his clothing caught and burned. He beat at it frantically, but the flame refused to be extinguished.

Just as it seemed that Drek’Thar would succumb to Fire’s attack, it ceased. He was whole and sound. Drek’Thar breathed heavily, trembling. The moments stretched out. Nothing happened, yet the vision continued.

And that was when he felt the rumbling beneath his feet. And he knew, somehow, that Air and Water and Fire had already voiced their pain. And while they might yet again, this trembling of a sobbing Earth beneath his feet was, Drek’Thar knew, yet to come. And he sensed it would be terrible. Images flashed through his mind—a place of snow, a place of forests—

He shouted and bolted upright, blinking eyes that once again, mercifully, saw only darkness. His reaching hands met those of Palkar, as they always did.

“What is it, Greatfather?” asked the younger orc. His voice was clear, strong, untroubled by all that haunted Drek’Thar.

Drek’Thar opened his mouth to answer, but suddenly his thoughts were as dark as his eyes. He had dreamed—something. Something important. Something he needed to share—

“I … I don’t know,” he whispered. “Something terrible is about to happen, Palkar. But … I don’t know what. I don’t know!”

He shook with frustrated, fearful sobs.

The tears that streamed down his face were warm.

Anduin developed a routine as the days unfolded. Mornings were spent training with the seemingly inexhaustible and eternally chipper Aerin. When they were not sparring, she and Anduin went for rides out in the countryside. While rams would never be his favorite mounts, Anduin loved the chance to get outside; the clear air made him feel almost giddy, and the snowy land was so very different from the temperate clime of Stormwind. He grew to become very fond of Aerin. He could trust her to not pull a punch, physically or verbally, and found that very refreshing. Once, he asked about Moira.

“Och, that’s a convoluted business, that,” she said.

“Sounds straightforward to me. She got kidnapped, was enchanted, and broke Magni’s heart.”

“I’ll certainly agree that he misses her,” Aerin said, “but he was no the best daddy tae her either.”

Anduin was stunned. He’d always imagined the bluff dwarf as the perfect father. Surely he would appreciate someone for who they were, not who he wanted them to be.

“Not cruel, or anything, mind. But … well, Her Highness was the wrong gender. Magni always wanted a son tae rule after him. Felt that a female just wouldna do th’ job right.”

“Jaina Proudmoore is a wonderful leader of her people,” Anduin said.

“Aye, and it wasn’t long after Moira disappeared that His Majesty put me an’ a few others in his elite guard,” Aerin said. “I think he finally understood that he’d been a bit unfair. ’Tis my hope that one day, father an’ daughter