Cycle of Hatred

Twenty—Four

Not five minutes ago, Aegwynn had urged Zmodlor to cease his parlor tricks. The disembodied voice trick was probably menacing to the average person, but it was a simple trick that any first—year apprentice could pull off. So it didn't impress Aegwynn all that much.

Now, seeing the huge, leathery—skinned, bat—winged, flame—eyed Zmodlor standing before her, she realized she should have kept her mouth shut. Demons on the whole were not pretty creatures, but Zmodlor was hideous even by their standards.

Surrounding the demon were eight hooded figures. These, presumably, were the warlocks, who were chanting rhythmically.

Jaina reached into her cloak and grabbed the scroll. Aegwynn was grateful, as it meant this would be over soon. Now that Zmodlor had revealed himself, Jaina would be able to cast the banishment.

Suddenly, Jaina screamed and fell to the floor.

"Jaina!" Aegwynn ran to the young mage's side. Lorena, good soldier that she was, moved to stand between the demon and Jaina.

Sweat beaded on Jaina's forehead as she managed to get to her knees. Through clenched teeth, she said, "Warlocks…blocking the spell."

This close, Aegwynn could feel the warlocks' spellcasting. It was fairly weak, though there were about a dozen of them, which added power to their spells. Still, a mage of Jaina's stature should have been able to punch through that.

Unless, of course, she'd overextended herself.

Jaina was struggling—Aegwynn could feel it—but she was losing ground to Zmodlor's minions.

This is even better than I'd hoped. I'll make sure that the orcs are blamed for Proudmoore's death. It will send the humans into a frenzy. Nothing will stop them from going to war, and without her to guide them, they'll lose—but not before they kill as many orcs as possible. It will be glorious!

"Like hell," Aegwynn muttered. There was only one thing for her to do.

It had been almost four years since she brought Medivh back. That had drained all her magic at the time, as she'd told Jaina—but the magic never went away forever. Two decades after she had escaped to Bladescar, she had built up enough magical power to bring back her son. While she hadn't regained anywhere near that much in the four years since, she might well have enough to do what was necessary. If not—well, she'd lived almost a full millennium. As Lorena had so eloquently pointed out, that was a lot more than most people got.

Sweat was now pouring down Jaina's face. She was still kneeling, fists clenched and resting on her thighs. Aegwynn could feel the spell that she herself had written struggling to push past the blocks the warlocks were putting up.

Down on one knee at Jaina's side, Aegwynn grabbed the younger woman's left fist with both hands. She closed her eyes, gathered up her thoughts, her power, her very life essence. Focusing it, molding it, moving it, she channeled it all into her arms…then her forearms…then her hands…

And then to Jaina.

Fatigue rather suddenly overwhelmed her. Her bones felt heavy in her skin, her muscles ached as if she had just run a race, and her breaths came in shallow gasps. Ignoring all of it, Aegwynn continued to focus, willing her life, her magic, her very soul to Jaina Proudmoore.

Jaina opened her eyes. Normally an icy blue, they were now a fiery red.

No!

Simultaneously, both Aegwynn and Jaina said, "Yes!"

You cannot stop the Burning Blade! We will prevail over all, destroying everything in our path, and then we—aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGH!

Zmodlor's screams echoed—not only off the walls, but from the mouths of the warlocks, who felt sympathetic agony through the bond the demon had with them. Though Aegwynn's vision was fading, she saw Zmodlor's hideous body twist and contort, ichor spewing from wounds that suddenly ripped open.

A wind kicked up as the air itself was rent asunder by the spell Aegwynn had written—a portal to the Twisting Nether—pulling Zmodlor's body into the tear.

Noooooooo! I won't let you trap me aga—

The demon's words were cut off by his head being sucked in.

But the screams continued from the warlocks, even as the ground shook under Aegwynn's unsteady legs. Moments later, they stopped as they, too, were sucked into the Twisting Nether, where they would suffer anguish several orders of magnitude worse than what they had planned for the residents of Kalimdor.

The tear closed—but the cavern was still shaking.

Showing a soldier's capacity for stating the obvious, Lorena said, "We've got to get out of here!"

But Aegwynn couldn't make her limbs move. Her arms and legs felt like dead weights, and it took all her energy just to keep her eyes open.

One of the stalactites ripped from the cave roof with a sharp crack and impaled the floor less than a hands—breadth from where Aegwynn and Jaina both knelt.

Aegwynn heard Jaina start to mutter the incantation for the teleport spell.

Then she passed out.