to ensure I return here so that I will not be . . . alone. . . .”
Softly placing a hand on his shoulder, Tyrande said, “You are always welcome among us. She knew that. She also seems to have savored her life with you, or else she would not have stayed with you all these centuries.”
“We did have many moments of joy. She loved the wilderness, I admit. In some ways, more than I did, even.”
“I shall see to arrangements for her. She will receive proper rites.”
He looked up at her, then down at Shalasyr again. “She is dead.” Still holding his beloved, Jarod rose. He accepted no assistance as, with tender care, he adjusted Shalasyr’s position on the couch. To all appearances, she was sleeping. “It barely seems any time since the illness touched her.”
The high priestess and the archdruid looked at each other. With the loss of their immortality, the night elves as a race had begun to experience afflictions that they had only witnessed in others. There had been a few other deaths, and Shalasyr’s showed that there would be more and more as time went on, deaths that could not be avoided.
“I had heard rumors,” Jarod went on, straightening. “It is all true, then. We are mortal, are we not?” After Malfurion nodded, the former guard captain grunted. “Meaning no offense, but I think that a good thing, even with this happening.” His hands curled into fists as he looked at Shalasyr. “We were so damned complacent about our great station in the world and our endless, jaded lives, and that is why the Legion nearly slaughtered us all.”
A different darkness spread across his weathered face, one that Tyrande and her mate recalled from the far past. Malfurion quickly stepped over to Jarod and deftly guided him from Shalasyr. “You are exhausted. You need food and drink, also—”
“How can I sleep or eat?”
“Shalasyr would want you to take care of yourself,” Tyrande added from Jarod’s other side. “And I promise you that I will spare no effort for her.”
“I should stay—”
The archdruid shook his head. “No. Give yourself the time you need to be able to better honor her. I know where to find some healthy fare and perhaps how to bring some calm to your heart. Once you have recuperated, you can return and help oversee the final arrangements.”
To his relief, Jarod acquiesced. However, he looked back at his mate one last time. “I would like a moment alone with her, if I may. . . .”
“Of course.”
They watched him kneel beside Shalasyr once more. Jarod took her hands in his, leaned close, and whispered. Malfurion and Tyrande stepped out of the chamber. There they took the opportunity to briefly discuss another matter.
“Varian is coming to the summit,” Tyrande quietly informed her husband. “So Shandris’s contacts say. It worries me, though, that we still have no official confirmation from Stormwind.”
“We both know that if Shandris trusts her information, it is generally true. Good. One way or another, the news will filter to the other kingdoms. If Stormwind is attending, the remaining holdouts will rush to join.” He frowned. “As to whether he is coming to ensure the success of the summit or to condemn it . . . we will have to wait and see.”
“If we do not hear official word from Stormwind before he arrives, it may be the latter.”
“Unfortunately, too true.” Malfurion’s frown deepened. “But you could have told me all this when you initially contacted me.”
“There is more.” She described Elune’s vision and what it had revealed.
He brooded over the revelation for a breath or two, then asked, “You have faith you could not be mistaken?”
“The Mother Moon made it abundantly clear.”
“It makes sense in great part, and yet not in other ways.” He brooded for a moment. “Leave this matter to me. I will see that somehow things come together . . . if it is indeed Varian Wrynn on whom the Alliance’s future most depends.”
Tyrande accepted his decision to take control of that situation with a nod. Then, also eyeing Jarod, she continued, “We have another, more personal situation here . . . perhaps two. Jarod left behind some unfinished relationships of significance.”
“Those will have to come to their proper conclusions without our efforts. There is so much more at stake. I welcome Jarod back . . . but his life is his own to master, in the long run.”
They glanced back into the chamber. At that moment the