Duality Risen

Four

“Aljei was a powerful warlock, one whom all the young, aspiring fools wanted to apprentice to. Aljei was strict, demanding, but he was the best. Rarely did his apprentices survive the first year with him, but he had one that managed to not only survive his tests, but he managed to earn his respect. That apprentice grew powerful under Aljei’s tutoring, but he also grew in arrogance. And Aljei let his young apprentice summon a demon into our world.”

Goran took another swig of beer. Blood steadily pulsed out of the wound in his gut. “That demon,” Goran continued, “at first obeyed the youngster because it was amusing. But that apprentice couldn’t bind the demon he’d summoned. It was far too powerful for him, and Aljei knew this. But he let his apprentice learn it for himself and when the demon was done with the poor boy, it turned its attention to the town. And Aljei just stood there and watched as the demon destroyed the village. He laughed, in that devastation he laughed and he watched that demon slaughter hundreds. What he could have stopped with a word, he let happen until the demon had had its fill and quietly went back to its own plane.

“Aljei was forced to flee, but he did so with a swath of blood behind him. He killed his own people, women, children, it was all the same to him. They sealed him in that cairn as punishment, Mardruk. Immortal, he couldn’t die under that rock. He was trapped, something he hated severely. But when the blood elves became mortal, that body of his died.”

Mardruk felt cold. “Then… his spirit remained under that rock. And he used me to… to come back to life.”

Goran choked in his laughter. “That’s what Aljei does. Trick you into doing what he wants. Mardruk, you have to hunt him down. Before he regains his power. Before he becomes what he once was.”

Mardruk shook his head. “I have to get you to Orgrimmar first!”

“There’s no time boy!” Goran growled. “I’m strong enough to make it on my own. You have to go now. There’s a horse around here somewhere; I can smell it. Take it. Get to a flight point and get to a main city. You need to get help for this.”

Mardruk stared at his master but he got up from his kneeling position, and hunted down the animal. The horse whinnied and shied but Mardruk made it listen, bringing the animal over to Goran. He pulled the old orc into the saddle and strapped him in. Goran grunted. “What the hell are you doing?”

Mardruk looked up at the old orc and cinched the reins tight around the elder’s hands. “I’m saving your ass. Then I’ll save the fucking world.” He slapped the horse’s rear with a heavy blow. The animal lunged forward, kicking up dirt as it burst forward, running in one direction with the old orc on his back. Mardruk felt a cold fist settle in his gut as he picked up another sword. A hot breeze ruffled the young orc’s black hair and he knew in that moment, he’d never see his teacher, the man who’d been like his father, again.

“All right.” Mardruk hefted up that human sword and started walking. “Let’s do this.”


A cold shiver tore down her spine, tensing her body and forcing her to cut short her spell of healing. The wound on her kal’dorei companion’s arm still oozed blood, but he wrapped it quickly in a mageweave bandage, his gold eyes focused on the mage. Her other companion stared at her, confused and worried. The tall kal’dorei shifted his weight, his lion giving a throaty growl in response to his master’s sudden attention to the woman. On the other side of her, a blue-toned hand settled on the woman’s shoulder. The draenei female angled her dark head down at the human, her blue eyes focused on green. The human woman shrugged.

“I felt something.” Cassidia answered to the silent question. “It was like… a stone being thrown into a still lake. It was a powerful ripple.”

The draenei frowned. “I didn’t feel a thing.”

“Because you’re a paladin. I’m a mage.” Cassidia frowned. “Serasin, your magic comes from an entirely different plane than mine. Tyrrandal, did you feel anything?”

The silent night elf hunter shook his head. “I wouldn’t have. But I trust your instinct, Cassie.”

The red-haired woman frowned. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Serasin stamped her hoof and pivoted, her body tense under that chainmail and plate armour. Her hand went to her broadsword, her fingers curling around the pommel tightly. “I believe we should go to the nearest city. We could see if any other mages felt the same thing you did.”

“The nearest city is Ratchet.” Cassidia muttered. “We have to get through miles of the Barrens to get there.”

Tyrrandal’s eyes focused on the distance. “We don’t have a choice. If others have felt what you did, they’re going to be asking questions. Better to get answers sooner than later.”

“I agree with the elf.” Serasin said. “Besides, anything that attacks you is a fool.”

Cassie shook her head and smiled. Surrounded by a paladin, a hunter and the hunter’s pet, Cassie couldn’t be in a safer place. “All right. Let’s go to Ratchet. We’re bound to run into someone who knows what’s happening.”

“Let’s just hope that someone is friendly to the Alliance.” Tyrrandal replied, earning a growl in agreement from his lion. When Cassidia just looked at the elf, he shrugged. “At least neutral.”

Cassidia shook her head. “Let’s just go. Before we get jumped or something.”

The trio grabbed their gear, starting off toward the coastal town of Ratchet, hoping that whatever they felt wasn’t something too horrible.


Cold eyes flicked to the sky, the jaundice yellow orbs focusing on some far away point. Slowly, he drew himself up and stepped away from the group he was with, getting far enough away that he could focus on what he was feeling without distraction. As the voices of the group faded into the background, the Forsaken priest focused on the feeling of helplessness, wondering what was making him react to an emotion he’d forgotten since he became undead. He felt someone draw up behind him, felt a hand settle on his shoulder. He glanced back at his companion, the green strands of his hair obscuring his view of her face. She just watched him and said nothing.

“Did you feel it?” He asked softly, as though he was simply asking about the weather.

“Feel what?”

He rolled his eyes. “Never mind.”

His companion frowned. “Raichlos, don’t ‘never mind’ me.” She removed her hand from his shoulder and put her hands on her hips. “I know you.”

The Forsaken priest simply stared at the warrior, his companion in undeath as she was in life. Finally, Raichlos shook his head. “It’s nothing, Inkk. Just a feeling.”

“The last time you had that ‘just a feeling’ feeling, we were nearly ambushed by a Scarlet scouting party.” Inkk snapped. Raichlos glowered at the warrior, as if he were debating on whether or not to dent her skull with his staff. She simply watched him back, daring him to try what he was thinking of trying. “Go.”

“What?”

“Go. You’re obviously feeling something and you’re not gonna be satisfied until you figure out what that feeling means.”

Raichlos’ jaundice yellow eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you throwing me to the lion’s den?”

Inkk grinned. “I wouldn’t let a poor little priest like you wander the world without protection. Let me pull a few strings and I’ll have you guarded like a prince.”

Raichlos simply stared at the woman warrior and rolled his eyes. The problem with Inkk’s idea of protection was that it was a far cry from a normal person’s idea of protection. She had a tendency to hit first and ask questions later, and generally caused a great deal more pain than what was necessary. The same often went for her idea of bodyguards, who had the same reaction to violence as she did. Not that it was an actually bad thing in the long run, but it made completing tasks that much harder. Raichlos just shook his head and stepped back toward the group of Forsaken with his warrior bodyguard right behind him. Whatever he was feeling, it could wait a little while longer.

Not that he really cared.