The wind howled across the scorched battlefield, carrying with it the acrid stench of demon blood and smoldering orc flesh. Prince Kael'thas Sunstrider stood amidst the carnage, his golden hair whipping in the breeze as he surveyed the aftermath of their hard-won victory. His emerald eyes, sharp as cut glass, turned toward the assembled leaders of the Alliance.
"That's right," Kael'thas said, his voice carrying the melodic cadence of the sin'dorei even in the gravest of circumstances. "The most urgent task is to find the passage the orcs used to invade: the Dark Portal."
Kurdran Wildhammer, his wild mane of red hair still singed from battle, leaned forward on his stormhammer with genuine curiosity etched across his weathered face. "The Dark Portal? What's that? A magic gate of some sort?"
"Two of them, actually, physical two-way portals that tear through the very fabric of reality itself." Kael'thas's expression darkened, ancient knowledge weighing heavily upon his features. "The Dark Titan Sargeras, wielding the Archmage Medivh's corrupted hands like a puppet master, collaborated with the orc warlock Gul'dan to construct and open them."
He gestured toward the south, where distant mountains loomed like sleeping giants. "One portal stands on our world, while its twin festers on the orc homeworld of Draenor, a festering wound between worlds that bleeds armies."
"Sargeras?! The Dark Titan Sargeras?!"
Kurdran's voice erupted like a thunderclap, rising two full octaves into a pitch so sharp and piercing it could have shattered crystal goblets. The sound reverberated across the battlefield, causing nearby soldiers to wince and cover their ears. Several griffons in the distance screeched in response to what they perceived as a mating call.
"By the Light, lower your voice! I can hear you perfectly well," Kael'thas grimaced, touching his pointed ear delicately. His fingertips came away sticky with blood. "Did you just rupture my eardrum?"
As expected of the Little Thor of the new Warcraft expansion, Kael'thas thought wryly. His voice truly is like thunder incarnate, perhaps literally.
Sir Anduin Lothar, his scarred face grave as a tombstone, stepped forward with the measured pace of a man who had seen too many wars. "The orcs are the dominant species of Draenor. As long as that accursed portal remains open, no matter how many green-skinned savages we put to the sword, endless reinforcements will continue to pour through like a plague of locusts."
King Varian Wrynn's young face hardened with royal determination, his blue eyes blazing with barely contained fury. "Then we'll kill as many as come! We'll keep killing until every last orc draws their final breath and their race is nothing but a memory!"
Kael'thas shrugged with elegant nonchalance, though his expression remained serious. "You cannot exterminate them all, young king. Orcs possess reproductive capabilities that would make rabbits envious. They reach fighting age in their teens and breed like wildfire. We've slaughtered perhaps a few hundred thousand of the beasts in recent years, correct?"
He paused, letting the mathematics of despair sink in. "Within a single decade, they'll have replenished those losses, and likely doubled their numbers. As long as the Dark Portal stands like an open wound between worlds, the orcish invasions will come again and again, each wave larger than the last."
"They can reproduce that prolifically?" Kurdran's eyes widened in genuine astonishment, his earlier thunderous voice now reduced to an awed whisper.
"Indeed they can. Anyone familiar with orcish biology knows they multiply like cells dividing, you simply cannot kill them faster than they breed."
General Danath Trollbane of Stromgarde, his battle-scarred armor still dripping with orc blood, slammed his gauntleted fist against his palm with metallic finality. "The solution is obvious, then. We march through their precious portal to Draenor and exterminate every last orc on their homeworld. No more orcs, no more Horde, no more invasions threatening our children!"
Kael'thas nodded approvingly, a cold smile playing at the corners of his lips. "A sound strategy. I was contemplating the same approach."
After all, he mused, letting the tiger return to the mountains leads to endless troubles. Better to solve the problem once and for all, permanently.
A young Paladin from Lordaeron, his silver armor gleaming despite the carnage around him, frowned deeply with the moral certainty of the untested. "This doesn't align with the sacred teachings of the Holy Light. We cannot engage in wholesale slaughter of the innocent. His Majesty King Terenas has always governed with mercy and compassion, he would never sanction such brutality, "
"Innocent?" General Danath's voice cracked like a whip, his weathered face flushing with rage. "Are the orcs innocent, or are the thousands of humans, High Elves, and Bronzebeard Dwarves butchered by orcish axes the innocent ones? Tell me, boy, who deserves our protection?"
The Paladin's jaw set stubbornly. "Orcs are sentient beings too. The invading forces must certainly be stopped with lethal force, but if we cross through their portal to Draenor to hunt them on their own soil, are we not becoming the invaders ourselves?"
"Invaders?" Danath spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "We are not invading, we are retaliating for the countless innocents they've slaughtered!"
"This war is over!" The Paladin's voice rose with desperate conviction. "We need only seal the Dark Portal permanently. Invading Draenor isn't retaliation, it's starting an entirely new war of conquest! We cannot become what we fought against!"
"Over? Over?" Danath's laugh was harsh and bitter. "You naive fool, you don't get to declare when this war ends!"
"I'm not declaring anything, His Majesty King Terenas has already spoken on this matter!"
"His words carry no weight here, boy! This isn't his kingdom burning!"
The two men faced off like circling wolves, their faces flushed red with anger, hands drifting unconsciously toward weapon hilts. The tension crackled between them like lightning before a storm.
Sensing the situation teetering on the edge of violence, Lothar quickly stepped between them with the practiced ease of a veteran peacekeeper. "Enough! We'll debate these matters later when cooler heads can prevail. Our most pressing concern is locating the Dark Portal itself."
His gray eyes turned toward the prematurely aged figure of Khadgar, whose once-dark hair had turned white as fresh snow from magical trauma. "Khadgar, you were Medivh's apprentice at Karazhan. Surely you must know where the Dark Portal was constructed?"
The young-old Archmage shook his head sadly, his lined face bearing the weight of terrible knowledge. "I'm afraid not, Sir Lothar. By the time I arrived at Karazhan, the portal had already been opened and Medivh was... no longer himself. The Guardian would never have shared such catastrophic secrets with a mere apprentice."
Kael'thas smiled with predatory satisfaction. "We may not know its location, but the orcs certainly do. Some of their survivors must have that knowledge locked away in their thick skulls."
Lothar nodded grimly. "Simple enough. I'll leave this to Stormwind's Intelligence Agency, they have developed quite refined techniques for extracting information from reluctant subjects."
---
Half an hour later, a capable female agent approached their war council, her leather armor still spattered with suspicious stains. Her voice was crisp and professional as she delivered her report: "Black Morass, my lords. The Dark Portal lies within the Black Morass!"
General Danath's scarred brow furrowed deeply. "That's nearly at the world's edge, thousands of kilometers from here."
"Indeed," the agent confirmed. "South of the Burning Steppes lies Redridge Mountains. South of Redridge lies the Swamp of Sorrows. And south of that forsaken swampland lies the Black Morass itself. The journey will take us through treacherous mountain passes and hostile territory."
Lothar's decision came swift as a sword stroke. "Then we pursue them to the ends of the earth if necessary. The Dark Portal must be found."
King Varian pointed toward the ominous bulk of Blackrock Mountain, its peak wreathed in perpetual smoke and flame. "What of Blackrock Mountain? What of the orcish stronghold within? Do we simply abandon our watch over that threat?"
"Of course not, Your Majesty," Kael'thas interjected smoothly. "I propose this: Stormwind Kingdom, Khaz Modan, and Stromgarde each detach a portion of their forces to establish permanent outposts around Blackrock Mountain. Constant vigilance, with immediate reports of any unusual activity. A reasonable precaution, wouldn't you agree?"
Kurdran immediately slammed his hammer against the ground in approval. "Aye! We must monitor not only the greenskin savages but also those treacherous Dark Iron Dwarves lurking in the mountain's depths!"
Muradin Bronzebeard stroked his magnificent braided beard thoughtfully. "A sound strategy. We Bronzebeards have maintained such surveillance for generations, the orc invasion merely forced us to temporarily abandon our posts."
Lothar nodded decisively. "Then it's settled. We rest tonight and march at first light tomorrow. May the Light guide our path."
---
As the Alliance forces began the grim task of clearing the battlefield, sorting the dead and gathering intelligence from the fallen, Alexandros Mograine turned over the corpse of an orc warlock. The creature's fel-corrupted features were frozen in a rictus of eternal malice, but something glinted in its robes.
"What in the Light's name is this?" he muttered, extracting a crystalline object from the warlock's inner pocket.
The crystal was a thing of terrible beauty, black as the space between stars, its surface seeming to devour light itself rather than reflect it. It pulsed with an inner darkness that suggested infinite depth, as if containing the very essence of the abyss.
Drawn by curiosity and the Paladin's instinct to confront evil, Alexandros reached out and grasped the crystal firmly.
Mistake.
The moment his flesh made contact with the artifact, torrents of shadow energy erupted from its core. The dark power surged up his arm like liquid corruption, searing his nerves and twisting his very essence. The pain was beyond description, as if his soul were being flayed by invisible whips of pure malevolence.
"AAAAAHHHHH!"
His agonized scream echoed across the battlefield like the cry of a damned soul. Without hesitation, he hurled the accursed crystal away from himself and desperately summoned every mote of Holy Light at his command, flooding his corrupted arm with purifying radiance.
But the shadow energy was ancient and powerful, far beyond his ability to easily cleanse. He poured everything he had into the effort, sweat beading on his brow as Light and Shadow warred within his very flesh.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Holy Light triumphed. The dark corruption was burned away, leaving him gasping and weakened.
But the victory came at a terrible price. His right arm had been grotesquely transformed by the brief contact, the flesh twisted and scarred, covered in writhing runic patterns that seemed to shift and move when viewed peripherally. The arm looked as if it belonged to something other than human.
His cry of agony had drawn every eye on the battlefield. Warriors, mages, and clerics rushed toward the sound of such obvious distress.
"Such overwhelming Shadow energy, such a terrifyingly potent dark crystal!"
Uther the Lightbringer strode forward with purposeful steps, his legendary Silver Hand warhammer gleaming with contained power. His wise eyes fixed upon the fallen crystal with deep concern and recognition.
The former High Priest had achieved the pinnacle of Holy Light mastery, earning the rank of Archbishop through both wisdom and power. After receiving his legendary weapon, his abilities had grown even further, approaching the threshold of true legendary status. Perhaps within a few years, his command of the Light would rival even that of his revered teacher, Alonsus Faol.
Yet even with all his accumulated power and knowledge, he could sense the terrifying truth, that small, seemingly innocuous crystal contained Shadow energy of legendary magnitude.
"Alexandros, report, how do you feel?" Uther's voice carried both authority and genuine concern.
The corrupted Paladin's face was ashen with pain and shock. "Terrible, my lord. My right arm... it no longer feels like part of my own body. It's as if something alien has taken root in my flesh."
"This is a Rezzeb Crystal," Kael'thas announced as he approached, his melodic voice cutting through the murmur of concerned voices. "An extraordinarily potent Shadow artifact capable of dramatically amplifying a warlock's spellcasting abilities."
"Rezzeb Crystal?" Uther turned toward the Sin'dorei prince with keen interest. "What manner of material is this? I've never encountered anything like it."
"'Rezzeb Crystal' is merely the orcish designation, their crude language lacks the sophistication for proper nomenclature. But I know this artifact's true and terrifying origin."
Kael'thas paused dramatically, his emerald eyes reflecting ancient knowledge. "It is the crystallized core essence of a fallen Naaru."
"Naaru? What in the Light's name is that?"
The assembled leaders exchanged bewildered glances. The term was utterly foreign to their understanding.
"The Naaru are beings of pure, undiluted Holy Light," Kael'thas explained with the patience of a teacher instructing children. "Their forms resemble geometric crystalline plates composed of living light itself, typically radiating a gentle, warm luminescence accompanied by harmonious, musical resonances that soothe the soul."
His expression grew more serious. "Actually, you have encountered them before. Search your memories carefully, in your dreams and meditations, you must have glimpsed them, have you not?"
"By the Light, so it was them!"
The revelation struck the assembled Paladins and Priests like a thunderbolt. Recognition dawned in their eyes as suppressed memories surfaced.
They had indeed seen such beings in their deepest spiritual experiences, geometric forms of pure radiance that they had assumed were manifestations of divine favor. These mysterious entities had appeared in visions and dreams, guiding them toward the path of righteousness, granting them access to Holy Light power, and ultimately giving birth to the sacred orders of Priest and Paladin in this world.
They had always assumed these visions were connected to the legendary Tyr, the Titan of Order, or perhaps emanated from an even greater cosmic force.
Never had they imagined that their guiding lights were actually the Naaru.
"Where do the Naaru originate?" Uther asked with growing urgency. "Are they truly divine beings, gods of the Holy Light itself?"
"'God' is a rather broad and imprecise term," Kael'thas replied with scholarly precision. "Titans are called gods. Titan Guardians are considered gods. The Ancient Gods are obviously gods. The Wild Gods certainly qualify. Even Lady Aegwynn, the former Guardian of Tirisfal, transcended mortality enough to be considered divine."
He gestured expansively. "Any existence that is extraordinary, fundamentally transcends mortal limitations, possesses immense power, and enjoys eternal life can reasonably be termed a god."
"However, if we wish to be more precise, divine beings can generally be categorized into two distinct tiers: true gods and demigods."
"The Naaru possess eternal essence and cosmic significance, so they certainly qualify as divine beings. However, they are not true gods in the ultimate sense, they are demigods. And importantly, it's not 'it' but 'them', they are a race, not a singular entity."
Uther pondered this revelation carefully. "Similar to the Wild Gods then? The Naaru are an entire species? Have they also existed for tens of thousands of years like the ancient spirits of nature?"
Kael'thas shook his head with a knowing smile. "Tens of thousands of years? Child's play. The Naaru are said to have come into existence at the very dawn of creation itself, during the primordial ordering of light and shadow when the universe first took shape. We're speaking of hundreds of millions of years, not mere millennia."
"'Said to have been born?'" Uther caught the careful phrasing.
"'Said to have been' represents only one cosmological theory among many," Kael'thas shrugged elegantly. "Whether it reflects absolute truth, I cannot say with certainty. I am merely a few centuries old, how could I possibly possess definitive knowledge of such ancient cosmic events?"
Uther's curiosity was thoroughly piqued. "Then what of the true gods of Holy Light? What of Tyr himself?"
Kael'thas's expression grew more complex. "The Titan Guardians, impressive as they are, remain merely creations of the Titans, albeit extraordinarily powerful ones. If we consider the Titans themselves to be the true gods of the Order faction, then the Titan Guardians, much like the Dragon Aspects, are demigods operating on the same fundamental level as the Naaru."
Uther's frown deepened with each revelation. "Order faction? You speak of a faction of Order? What faction do the Naaru represent, Holy Light? How many such factions exist in total?"
The other assembled leaders looked equally bewildered. This was knowledge beyond anything recorded in their most ancient texts or oral traditions.
"This requires us to examine the fundamental essence of reality itself," Kael'thas began, settling into the role of cosmic instructor.
"We all understand that physical matter throughout the universe is composed of the classical four elements, earth, fire, water, and air, supplemented by the fifth element of spirit. However, beyond these five elemental forces, there exist six equally fundamental primal energies that shape all existence: Light and Shadow, Life and Death, Order and Chaos. These constitute the six great cosmic factions."
"That cannot be correct!" Brann Bronzebeard interjected, his scholarly instincts rebelling against this paradigm shift. "Everything in existence was created by the Titans! The Titans are the supreme creator gods, born naturally from the cosmos itself. All life throughout the universe was shaped by Titanic hands, and all civilizations were established under Titanic guidance!"
Muradin nodded emphatically, his massive beard bobbing. "Precisely! We Dwarves were raised on the sacred stories of Titanic creation. The Titans are the ultimate divine beings, the architects of reality itself!"
"Aye!" Kurdran, Danath, and several others chorused their agreement.
Kael'thas chuckled softly, his amusement gentle but pointed. "You yourselves just called them 'stories.' Precisely how much credibility should we assign to stories passed down through countless generations?"
Silence fell like a hammer blow. Their foundational worldview had just been challenged at its very core.
The creation myths of the Titans, were they merely fabrications?
Were the Titans not the supreme creator gods, or at least not the only creator gods?
Uther, his analytical mind racing, pressed forward with the logical implications. "These six factions, do they exist in opposition to each other in balanced pairs? You've indicated that the Order faction's primary deity consists of the Titans, with demigods including the Titan Guardians and Dragon Aspects. What of the remaining five factions?"
"The Chaos faction's supreme being is the Dark Titan Sargeras," Kael'thas continued his cosmic lesson. "He was originally a champion of Order among the Titans but fell to corruption for reasons that remain debated. The Chaos faction consists primarily of the Burning Legion's demonic hordes, with demigods including such terrors as Kil'jaeden the Deceiver, Archimonde the Defiler, and Mannoroth the Destructor."
"The Light faction's ultimate deity remains unknown to me, though some theories suggest the Tauren Sun God An'she. Its demigods are primarily the Naaru we've been discussing, along with sufficiently powerful beings who have been reforged by pure Light."
"The Shadow faction serves the Void Lords as their supreme deities. Among its demigods are the Ancient Gods, those cosmic parasites we know all too well, along with their Faceless One generals and other servants of corruption."
"One confirmed supreme deity of the Life faction is Elune, the Night Elves' Moon Goddess. Her demigods include the eternal animal spirits known as Wild Gods, as well as the loa spirits revered by various primitive cultures."
"The Death faction serves beings known as the Eternal Ones as their primary deities, with various powerful entities serving beneath them in their cosmic hierarchy."
He spread his hands apologetically. "I must confess, my knowledge of these six cosmic factions remains incomplete. This represents the extent of my understanding."
The assembled leaders stood in stunned silence.
You call that incomplete knowledge? they thought in unison. You may claim ignorance, but we knew absolutely nothing before this moment.
Their entire understanding of cosmic power structures had been obliterated and rebuilt in the span of minutes.
The Titans were not unique creator gods, but merely one faction among six, on par with entities like the Night Elves' Elune and the Tauren's An'she.
And there were apparently many such beings operating at this cosmic level?
Where had their ancient creation myths actually originated? Had their ancestors simply invented these stories from whole cloth? Or had the Titan Guardians themselves disseminated these tales?
If their ancestors had fabricated the myths, what purpose could they have served?
If the Titan Guardians had spread these stories, had they acted independently or under Titanic orders?
And if the latter, what had the Titans hoped to accomplish? Were they engaged in some cosmic deception, concealing the true nature of reality from mortal races?
The more they contemplated these implications, the more terrifying the possibilities became.
Of course, there remained another explanation: Kael'thas himself could be fabricating this entire cosmology.
But what possible motivation could he have for such deception?
Perhaps the Sin'dorei prince had merely heard rumors and speculation, passing along uncertain information as fact?
It was possible, but his certainty seemed absolute.
"So this crystal," Uther said slowly, his gaze returning to the dark artifact, "actually contains the crystallized essence of a Holy Light demigod?"
His voice carried a mixture of awe and revulsion. "But why does it radiate such overwhelming Shadow energy? Isn't Shadow the fundamental antithesis of Light?"
"Light cannot exist independently of darkness," Kael'thas explained with the patience of ancient wisdom. "Although Light and Shadow are opposite in nature and eternally opposed, they are also interdependent and coexist throughout the entire universe in perfect balance."
"While the Naaru are indeed beings of pure Holy Light, if their Light energy becomes completely exhausted, they undergo a fundamental transformation into beings of pure Shadow, entities known as Dark Naaru, or Void Gods. To be precise, this crystal represents the crystallized core of such a transformed Dark Naaru."
Uther's eyes widened with sudden understanding and hope. "Holy Light exhausted transforms into Shadow essence? Then if we were to imbue this crystal with sufficient Holy Light energy, wouldn't it be possible to, "
"Exactly!" Kael'thas's smile was brilliant with possibility. "As long as we can purify it with enough concentrated Holy Light, this Dark Naaru core could theoretically be transformed back into its original Naaru state, a being of pure Light reborn from darkness!"
The revelation hung in the air like a promise of redemption, even as the corrupted crystal pulsed with malevolent shadow energy, waiting for heroes brave enough to attempt its purification.