Tyrande Whisperwind had loved Malfurion Stormrage once.

"My love, what can we do against this invasion?" The city of Suramar burned, and they were all that was left to defend the isles on which their home stood. "The demons are relentless, and they keep dropping from the sky. I have as many arrows as I can shoot, but my archers are weary. We cannot keep this up much longer." She was a young elf, only a couple thousand years old, but old enough to have seen the spread of the empire. Their beloved capital of Suramar had flourished, and they were not strong enough to save it.

Malfurion, her new husband, put a hand comfortingly on Tyrande's shoulder. "Take heart, beloved, for nature stands at our side and guards us against the onslaught of darkness. Cenarius and Elune herself will fight by our side." He had not yet begun to grow the traits of the animals he became, but he preferred to channel the magic of Elune into calling nature to his side or to bring down her wrath upon his enemies.

Tyrande pressed a kiss to her husband's cheek, enjoying the sensation for only a moment.

One of her hippogryph-mounted scouts from above shouted, "The next invasion is coming. To arms!" The young elf had short, messily-cut hair, fresh tattoos from her coming-of-age ceremony, and a bow untested by true war. She swung herself around and flew towards the demons, screaming, i"Andu-falah-dor!"/i

The druid and the priestess nodded at one another, each retrieving their mounts and charging towards the demon. In this time, they fought as one, bound together by their marriage and their camaraderie. Bolts of Elune's light shot through the air and pierced demons, skewering them and burning their flesh so they fell limp. Malfurion called down pyramids of sun and moon, the balance of the druidic ways bringing the deaths of the demons. From his staff he curved around and created a crescent of moonlight energy, cutting through the closest felguard.

The wave of demons ended, and the survivors retreated into their camp to heal in the moonwell. Tyrande walked through the battlefield to see who had fallen. The scout who charged in so bravely was half-crushed under the weight of her hippogryph. Tears welled in the priestess' eyes as she knelt at the scout's side. "Elune light your way, thero'shan."

Standing again with a renewed vigor, she returned to her camp and wrapped her arms around Malfurion, her anchor and the one holding her to the ground when she needed. He kept her in the moment, and she needed that during this war.

"Kal, we must stay strong and fight for our people. Val'sharah may fall, but we can create a home for ourselves outside of the demon's reach." She brought a hand to his face, pulling back from the hug and stroking his cheek.

Malfurion furrowed his brow. "I think I have an idea, but it will mean great pain to ensure our survival."

"What is this idea?"

From that discussion, after that battle, came the Sundering. The world was permanently broken, destroyed, and Queen Azshara was sent beneath the sea with most of her court. The remaining kaldorei who wished to live and continue to live were either sheltered within Suramar or traveling to their home of Kalimdor in the west.

The priestesses' order was established as the government, and the druids had discussed among themselves and made a decision. Moonglade, the northern region of their new continent, became the home of the druids and their barrow dens. Most painfully of all, they were choosing to go underground and fully commit to the Emerald Dream.

"Please, Malfurion, you cannot leave me to care for our people alone. We must build our new world together." Tyrande had her hand clasped around her husband's upper arm. "You must not lose yourself to the Dream when our people need you, here."

"You must understand, my love, that the only way for us to truly master our druidic arts is to sleep in the barrows and unite with the Dream. Our people would best be served to have guardians ready to join you when a new threat arises, or Elune forbid the Legion returns. You must let me do this. If you have great need of me, you may call upon me with the horn of Cenarius." His brow was furrowed once again, but rather than thoughtfully as when he made his idea that caused the Sundering, this was frustrated and distant. Pushing Tyrande away, whether he meant it or not.

Tyrande released him, stepping away and shaking her head, her gentle teal locks shaking with her and shielding her silvery eyes from his vision. "I cannot stop you. But I choose to remain here, awake, with my people."

"I'm sorry."

"You have made your choice."

A last sorrowful look came from the archdruid to his beloved as he entered the barrow, stepping down the long dirt pathway carved away by various druids into a twisting network beneath the ground. He found his way to a bed and shut his eyes, knowing he might never open them again outside of the Dream.

The high priestess of the kaldorei sobbed as she walked back to the temple of Moonglade. She needed Elune's guidance, needed to have someone to trust in. She could not trust in the counsel of her husband any longer. Mother Moon would be her counsel now.

She entered the temple in the North of Moonglade, hanging over the waters with the soft glow of the energy filling the region. The energy of the Well of Eternity still was with them, in a soft and comforting way. It was a part of them, regardless of what had happened in the time since the Sundering.

"Elune, I need guidance. My people look to me as a leader. I could not stop the druids from descending into their barrows and locking themselves away from the rest of our people. How am I to guide them now? If I cannot convince many of our strongest to stay, how can I convince them that I can lead?"

It was quiet for a while, and despair began to creep in her throat. She wondered if Elune was even listening, or if they had broken their connection to the mother of their kind by destroying the world. She had not asked for guidance in this way since the Sundering. She stepped further in, wading into the water of the moonwell and kneeling down, her robes sticking to her as she did. "Please, Elune. If I never ask you for anything again, I ask now for words of wisdom to help save my people from falling to chaos."

It was still quiet.

And then the moon above reached its crest, shining its light through the center of the ceiling and filling the moonwell with its light. Standing before her was a figure, elven and matronly and extending its arms towards her. "You are never alone, Tyrande. Look in your heart, and guide your people with your best judgment. You do not need me to choose for you." The figure stepped towards her, feet hitting the surface of the pool and sending ripples out in wide circles around. It leaned down and pressed a kiss to the priestess' forehead, and she could not tell if it was physical or merely a vision.

"Be strong, my child, and do not despair when you feel weak, for the night will always protect you."

As soon as it had appeared, the vision vanished, and Tyrande wiped the tears from her cheeks.