Chapter 27

Gereth awoke the next morning in the strangest way. As he returned to consciousness, the last thing he remembered was a nightmare of pain and his dearest friend Shaggara crying out his name in anguish.

Where am I? He asked himself. And then he remembered, I had stepped in front of the Alliance Marshall, McBride, and took a shadow pain curse for him. And then the last thing I remember was the pain on the stone floor of the translocation room.

As he felt his surroundings, however, his sense of touch was telling him that he was lying on a soft mattress with silken sheets. A pillow was beneath his head. Sheets and a blanket covered his otherwise only partially clothed form.

Someone living undressed me and put me into a bed? Who on Azeroth could stomach such a thing? Gereth asked himself as he opened his eyes to see his surroundings.

He was in a large bedroom meant for several people. A suite at an inn more suited to humans, dwarves, and elves in Dalaran by the elegant and luxurious look of the furniture. The four poster bed he was in appeared to be the largest in the room. Several comfortable chairs and a long couch also decorated the guest room. Though he had never had the pleasure of stepping inside, he guessed he was in a room at the Alliance friendly inn in Dalaran known as A Hero's Welcome.

Why would they bring me here? He wondered.

As he looked around the room, he saw to his right, seated in a chair next to his bed, a greenish brown skinned Orc warrior woman in green dragonscale armor. A magnificent sword in a scabbard with an emerald pommel still hung at her back. Her head was nodded and her eyes were closed in sleep. There was something more about her. She looked different than before, younger like an Orc woman more in her twenties than her fifties. The gray streak which had highlighted her warriors braid was gone. She was fiercely, savagely beautiful as she slept in a way he had never thought to realize before, and his heart nearly skipped a beat.

What has transpired here? He wondered.

"Oh, my dear, you didn't stay by my bed this entire time, did you?" He asked aloud.

And then he realized his voice was different. It was no longer raspy, but had the rich quality of a tenor's voice. It had been so long since he had heard his voice this way that he almost didn't recognize it.

Shaggara's eyes opened at the sound of the strange voice and she turned her weary, exhausted head in his direction.

"Gereth?" She asked tentatively. "You're awake?"

"Yes, it appears I am." Gereth replied. "And it also appears I missed a great deal. Did we win? Is the monster gone?"

Shaggara nodded her head as she continued to stare at the mage, her eyes beginning to mist over. "Sargeras is gone for now." She replied.

"And the Blight? Has it been stopped?" Gereth asked.

"Yes, my friend." Shaggara replied. "The Blight is no more. All that it befouled has been restored."

Gereth took a deep breath and sighed.

"Good." He replied as he leaned back into the bed again. There was something that felt odd about his body.

"I must be experiencing some lingering effects from the shadow curse. I feel quite strange." Gereth told her.

Shaggara broke out into a huge, beautiful grin as she said, "Look at your hands."

"My hands? Why should I look at my hands?" He questioned in confusion.

"Look at your hands, Gereth. Please." She told him again.

Gereth brought his hands out from beneath the covers and looked at them. Then his heart began to race as he sat up straight in the bed. It pounded hard in his chest like it hadn't done for decades.

My heart is beating?! It struck him hard as he gazed at his hands.

They were covered in living, breathing, tanned skin and a light dusting of golden blond hairs. Whole blood vessels could be seen beneath the skin, and he realized the strange feeling he had was blood pumping through living veins again.

In disbelief he ran those hands over his bare chest, legs, arms, and face. Everywhere on him there was living skin and hair. Even his beard stubble had grown slightly overnight.

The realization was overwhelming. He was alive. He was a living, breathing human being again.

"Hah!" He exclaimed as his own eyes misted over.

"HAHHH!" He then yelped for joy. "I'm alive! Shaggara, I'm alive! I'm whole! I'm human again!" He then laughed out loud.

Shaggara nodded. "I know, my dearest friend." Tears of joy rolled down her cheeks at his joy.

"But how is this possible?" He asked expectantly, his voice full of emotion.

"The Golden Flame." Shaggara responded.

"You used it… to heal me?" Gereth felt in awe, and humbled at the thought. "But why?"

Shaggara's eyes met his, and then he understood as he saw the love in them. He had never noticed how her eyes sparkled until that moment.

"And not just you, brother!" A rich, masculine voice called out from a doorway across the room.

A dark haired, light skinned, middle aged human warrior with a square jaw, and rugged good looks entered the room. He wore the livery and armor of a Knight of the Ebon Blade. But he was very much alive.

"Lord Commander Arete?" Gereth asked as he then recognized him.

Arete nodded. "We've all been restored, Gereth." He then repeated it again, "All of us, brother."

The implications of the Death Knight's statement took a few seconds to process through Gereth's mind, but when it did a look of shock and surprise filled his features.

"Our people? The Forsaken?" Gereth asked.

"Are no longer forsaken." Arete replied. "We've had mages teleporting in and opening portals for others for the last several hours telling us of the healing and restoration that happened from around the world."

"Andorhal? The Plaguelands?" Gereth asked, realizing that every hope he had maintained at finding the Golden Flame was being realized.

"Restored." The Ebon Blade Commander confirmed for him. "As though no plague had ever touched them. The cities and towns still lay in ruins from the fighting and neglect, but the lands, animals, and people of Quel'thalas and Lordaeron have been completely restored, according to the most recent arrivals, that is."

"The most recent arrivals?" Gereth asked.

"Her majesty, the Lady Sylvanas Windrunner arrived an hour ago." Arete replied. "After our report to her as to what has transpired here, she has requested to meet you when you are feeling well enough."

Gereth was overwhelmed, "The Dark Lady..."

"I would not so address her in that way now, brother. There seems nothing but the radiance of the light about her." Arete returned, his eyes slightly distant. "But that is my own opinion."

Gereth nodded, contemplating his words.

"For now, rest and adjust. It is…" Arete searched for the words. Finally, he decided on, "disorienting; at least at first. I will call for someone to bring you some breakfast. I think you'll find your palate has improved significantly. Until later, brother."

Lord Commander Arete raised a fist to his beating heart in salute to Gereth, and then he turned in salute to Shaggara and bowed reverently to her saying as he took his leave, "My lady."

Then the Death Knight commander left the room, and he and Shaggara were alone.

Neither said anything for several minutes as thoughts and feelings churned within them both.

"You look younger." Gereth finally said. "You look as though thirty years younger."

Shaggara's eyebrows went up. "You are trying to flatter me?" She asked, unsure of herself or him.

"Look in a mirror, my dear. I am not the only one who has changed." Gereth told her.

She looked around the room, and then spied a hand mirror on a table. She got up and went to look at herself. She used the mirror awkwardly, as though unfamiliar with how to handle it. But as she looked at her appearance, she saw that her skin was firmer, and what lines that had manifested themselves were gone. The gray in her warrior's tail was completely gone and her hair felt soft and strong. She looked at her own hands and arms to find young supple skin.

How could I not have noticed? She wondered as she found soft, unwrinkled and unscarred skin all over herself.

"How?" She asked. "I look… I look..."

"My age." Gereth replied gently. "Or at least the age I was when the plague hit."

"I don't know what happened." Shaggara whispered as she set the mirror down gently. "I didn't ask them for this. I didn't ask them to be your age."

Gereth had to take a minute before he responded. The morning presented one overwhelming moment after another to him and internally he didn't know if he could take any more. But this was his friend. She was, in truth, his best and dearest friend. He found himself sorting through how he really felt about her. Any kind of a romantic relationship with anyone, living or dead had never really been an option since the plague took him. But now…

This woman, this truly magnificent, beautiful Orc woman, had, with the exception of the last few when she had retired to her pig farm in Durotar, stood by him for years through life and death situations when most other living had looked at him in disgust. They had fought side by side. Laughed side by side. Kept each other company. What did she truly mean to him as his feelings became clear?

He looked at her again, vulnerable and unsure of herself in a way that he had rarely ever seen her before and thought, Everything.

And then he pushed back the covers and threw his legs across the side of the mattress. He then put his bare feet on the floor and stood up. He looked down at himself in wonder to find an athletically muscled body with a light coating of golden blond hair. Linen half breeches covered his newly restored manliness and thighs.

He then strode with purpose towards Shaggara, faced her and put his strong, gentle hands on her upper arms and looked into her sparkling eyes. How had he not noticed them before?

"Maybe your mind didn't ask." Gereth told her. "But your heart did."

A look of surprised hope filled her face as she looked into his handsome, scruffy human face. His sapphire blue eyes and golden blond hair made him look like Zelda's older, human brother.

"Thank you." Gereth told her.

"For what?" She asked.

"For this." He placed his right hand over his beating heart. "And for this." He then moved his right hand to rest over Shaggara's heart.

"As long as it beats, and even if it should stop again, it will forever belong to you." He told her, looking into her eyes as he held her.

"As will mine belong to you." Shaggara responded.

And then Gereth leaned in, somewhat awkwardly, and Shaggara responded, and as they both closed their eyes, their lips met for the first time, and they stayed there, almost afraid to draw back again.

And when they finally drew back, it was as if their whole world had finally been healed.

"I love you, Shaggara." Gereth told her for the first time, but it would not be the last.

Later that morning, a wizened older man in the white and gilded robes of a priest of the light stepped into the suite at A Hero's Welcome. His smile for the mage and the Orc woman who had not left his side was real, though many thoughts lay heavy on his mind.

"Uncle!" Gereth called to him in joyful greeting.

The much younger man had been dressed once more in the red mage's robes which he had worn in his undeath. His complexion looked remarkably healthy considering. But all that kept coming to Brother Garen's mind was how much he resembled the sister the priest had lost.

"Gereth?" Garen asked.

"Yes, it's me!" The human mage replied coming over quickly to clasp Garen's hand.

"You look… you look well!" Garen said with a genuine smile for him. "I'm so happy for you."

"Thank you, Uncle. Please, won't you come in and stay a while? And where is Marshall McBride?" Gereth asked. "I had thought he would be with you."

"Has no one told you, Gereth?" Garen asked, looking at Shaggara. The Orc warrior shook her head slowly.

"Told me what?" Gereth's own smile faded.

Then Brother Garen related to him what he saw, and how the Marshall had given his own life to save theirs. His voice choked as he spoke.

Gereth was silent after his short tale. Then after a time, he nodded and said, placing his hand on the priest's shoulder, "I'm sorry, Uncle. I know he was your friend."

"I must depart shortly. There are mages and soldiers here from Stormwind who have agreed to open a portal and accompany myself and the Marshall's body back to his daughter in Northshire. I have a final service to perform for him." Garen told him.

Gereth's expression fell. "Will you return to Dalaran?" He asked.

"If I can. It's not the easiest place for one such as myself to reach." Garen told him.

Gereth thought for a moment, and then reached into a red silken pouch that was around his waist. Out of it he pulled a small white stone with a cobalt blue spiral rune engraved over it. He closed his eyes and passed his other hand over it, whispering a short incantation over it, "Reditum Dalaran". The blue rune glowed for a brief instant and then was silent again.

"Here, take this. It will make your return to us easier." Gereth told him, placing the stone in the priest's hand.

"What is it?" Garen asked.

"It's called a 'hearthstone'. I have bound it to this inn here in Dalaran. Whenever you want to return here, just hold on it it tightly, and focus on this city. It will bring you back no matter where in the world you are." Gereth replied.

Garen smiled again. "Thank you, nephew. This is a great gift to me." He then asked, "Will you and Shaggara then be staying here in Dalaran for a while?"

Gereth nodded his head. "I think so. The Kirin Tor have lost their entire leadership, and the city has been decimated. The loss of life in the city is staggering, but the loss of their wisdom and knowledge may even be more so. I intend to stay and help rebuild. Maester Duazhen's spire is now vacant and, as his former apprentice, I am the closest person to him who can lay claim. One can never be certain, but I believe that is what he would have wanted."

"I can think of few more worthy, nephew." Garen told him.

"And..." Garen continued, "Now that I am human, I can never return to my apartments in Orgrimmar or Silvermoon openly. And Stormwind is not friendly to Orcs. It remains to be seen how the restored people of Lordaeron will align themselves. This city in the sky is and will remain one of the few safe sanctuaries where Shaggara and I may live together in peace."

Garen smiled broadly. "I am truly happy for you both." He told him."And you will always have an open welcome in Northshire, both of you. I will ensure it."

Then Garen motioned for Shaggara to come over next to him as well. Then, as she did, the older priest set one hand on Gereth's shoulder, and one on Shaggara's, blessing them both in the name of the Holy Light.

Zelda and Link could remain in Dalaran no longer. They, and their pieces of the Triforce had already been gone from Hyrule for far too long. They were both keenly aware that the consequences on their land of Zelda's prolonged absence in particular could be devastating to their world. After they had spent some small amount of peaceful time with their remaining companions, there still remained the task of locating a way back to Hyrule.

Link had recalled from his most ancient memories that those who first created the link between Duo'oni and Azeroth, would have also created a book to be able to transport themselves back. They wouldn't have attempted to use the portal created by a Descriptive Book without at least one held here on the other side.

The question then became, Where was it? And could it have survived for ten thousand years?

The only place either he or Zelda knew for certain that might hold that answer lay under the ruins of Forest Song in the province of Ashenvale. With Gereth's assistance with opening a portal, they and Oliver returned to the Night Elf excavation site. The Gilnean Master Druid accompanied them in order to see his and Marshall McBride's promise to Link through to the end.

They arrived to find the ruins nearly empty. Gone were most of the Draenei and Kaldorei researchers and guards. Only a handful were left, and these paid no attention to the tower which was the small party's focus.

Once more, Zelda opened the stone door with the notes of the "lullaby" she had been taught as a child. They all entered and went down the stairwell and into the arboretum. There, the ancient guardians slumbered, their roots plunged deep into the soil.

"They may not allow you to pass." Zelda warned Oliver, remembering her last encounter with them.

"They appear to be sleeping." He replied as he crouched down and put his hand on the rich loam of the ground beneath him. He reached out to the living energies of the ancients and the treants, feeling them, understanding them. He then sent out his own message to them.

Sleep still, and waken not, faithful guardians. There are no enemies here.

He waited for a few minutes, and then felt an unconscious acknowledgement. Satisfied, he stood up. "I believe they will not bother with any of us." He told her.

Zelda looked at the Druid with surprise, and a new respect for his abilities. She then looked at Link who nodded at her and smiled.

They continued forward, through the peacefully sleeping trees and on through the stone doorway to the other side. Soon, they found themselves in the still active control room of the temple. And Zelda found herself standing once more in front of the pedestal.

Hovering her hand over it, she spoke, "Fi."

The voice of the long dead friend responded, "Greetings again, Lady Hylia. How may I serve you?"

Zelda smiled. "I seek the location of the reditolibram for Duo'oni."

Fi's voice responded almost instantly. "The last known repository of the reditolibram for Duo'oni is was in the library of this facility. Records indicate that it has not been moved."

Zelda let out her breath. She hadn't realized she'd been holding it. "Thank you, Fi. Display the location of the library relative to this control room, please."

"Of course." Fi's voice responded as a three dimensional map of the expansive temple complex appeared in front of them all. It rotated and zoomed several different ways until it displayed only the room in which they were, and the path they would need to take to reach the library.

"It's not far from here." Link observed as he studied the map.

Oliver wasn't certain what to make of all of it. He had heard of similar magic and technologies described to him by more adventurous brother Druids, but had never truly seen it before now. It was a wonder to him. And as he considered that, he realized that was why he could not continue to follow.

"I must go no further." He told them. "My place is in the world above us. I fear the temptations of such a library may get the better of me."

Link turned to his mentor and nodded in understanding. "I suppose this is goodbye then?" He asked.

"I am afraid so." Oliver replied holding out his human hand. "It was an honor to know and teach you, my friend."

"It was an honor to be taught by you, Master Druid. I will remember your lessons well. Perhaps they will serve me in my own land." Link responded, taking the Druid's hand in his own.

Then Oliver turned to Zelda and bowed deeply saying, "My Lady, may you both find peace wherever you go."

"Thank you." Zelda replied with a smile.

"I will see myself out. I trust the entry portal was meant to keep people out, and not in?" He asked.

"Yes. That is how my mother designed it." Zelda replied.

"Farewell, then." He said one last time, and turning, left the control room and headed back through the arboretum.

"I guess it's time for us to go home too." Link then said, turning to Zelda.

"I suppose it is." She said, somewhat sadly.

"Do you think they'll be alright here?" Link asked. "Now that their Triforce has been found and used?"

Zelda smiled, her heart telling her the answer. "I think they will do well. Hyrule has only us. Azeroth is filled with heroes on both sides willing to do whatever it takes. That's the reason why it has survived for this long without the use of their Golden Flame, and why Sargeras could never conquer it."

Link nodded his agreement. Then he said, "Let's go home."

THE END