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[ The emerald darkened to crimson ]
Tyrande called for her beloved, her cries reaching Ysera’s enhanced hearing from where she soared over Val’sharah and its corrupted foliage. Her heart pained at the agonized cries of the creatures twisted by the Nightmare, their suffering endless and incurable.
Malfurion was within the forest, that much she knew. The first druid had a distinct magic within him, the patronage of Cenarius and Ysera herself combined with his own magics. His true location was veiled by the dark Satyr, no matter how much she called with her senses, as much as Tyrande called with her voice.
The champion cut down another false Malfurion, and Ysera twisted to avoid curling vines that reached for her wings, heart whispering an apology as she sliced the vines down to protect herself.
Xavius laughed, his mockery harsh over the pained whispers of the forest he corrupted and killed with joy in his blackened heart.
She spotted the satyr, lounging in a clearing and holding a gleaming, cursed gem, ruby corruption flickering in and out of existence around it.
The Tears of Elune.
How dare he. One of the most precious artifacts of Elune, the few shreds of her divinity upon Azeroth, and this monster dared twist its pure peace.
With a roar, Ysera dives towards Xavius, claws reaching forward to spear the satyr upon them.
~~~
[ An impossible choice ]
A roar echoed over the forest, ears twitching upward as Tyrande twisted herself towards the direction of the agonized scream and began to run.
The Lady of Dreams roared again, distinctly more furious. Was she in battle? Had the Dark Satyr struck her down? Surely not, Ysera was a dragon , the Dreamer herself. Surely not even Xavius could strike a blow on such a powerful being.
Surely.
Tyrande burst into a clearing, horror filling the black-tinted air as she beheld the cursed sight before her.
The evil creature had finally revealed himself, Xavius standing proud and smug as Malfurion struggled to breathe, entangled in a dark snare beside him. Tyrande confronted him, teeth bared in a near-feral snarl even as her eyes strayed to her husband with fear clouding their glorious blue glow.
“Tyrande Whisperwind,” Xavius purred, hands idly waving in a mocking bow. Hatred oozed out of his vicious grin and crimson-bleeding eyes. “I have longed for this encounter for many years, High Priestess.”
She didn’t reply, eyes fixated on the delicate, wheezing breaths Malfurion released, snare held fast around his chest and squeezing harder with every second. They looped around his arms, crushed his feathers, even tugged on his horns tauntingly.
“Your adoring husband –” the satyr sneered the word at her– “will be joining me in the Nightmare. His was a special invitation.”
No doubt Xavius had horrible plans for her love, and for herself equally. Tyrande found no response, eyes suddenly catching on what she had, at first, ignored as one of Xavius’s twisted creations. But no, this was no Nightmare-created being.
Ysera, the Lady of Dreams, protector of the Emerald Dream, hovered over Xavius and her entrapped beloved. Face blank, eyes as crimson as the satyr’s, wings and tail and body rippling with corruption even as she hovered steadily, releasing an emotionless roar as Xavius flicked his fingers in command.
Noticing Tryande’s horror, Xavius cackled. “And our dear Ysera! Would you believe she’s had a change of heart?”
Xavius began to pace, circling Malfurion’s imprisonment as he spoke, darkness crawling in his wake. “She will aid me in my conquest of Val’sharah, starting with your precious Temple of Elune.”
With a wave of his hand, Ysera roared, launching forward in the air and flying towards where Tyrande knew the near-fallen Temple lay. Fury rose, forever present but previously dormant, as Xavius only grew more pleased at her rage, helplessness making her hands hesitate on the grip of her bow.
“Such a dilemma, High Priestess.”
Her heart wrenched, realization a cold wave of pain that doused her anger.
“Kneel beside your beloved as he draws his final breath?”
Malfurion, entangled and pained, unconscious whines escaping him as he struggled feebly for breath he couldn’t find, blood falling from his nose in a damning reminder of his pain.
“Or watch the temple of your goddess burn?”
Try to save Malfurion, or be forced to kill the most beautiful creature she had ever known.
The dark satyr laughed, his twisted joy echoing as he teleported away, Malfurion’s torment fading with him into the Nightmare.
Elune, guide my path . Please.