Dalaran.
The city of mages lived its own special life. And on its streets now, as in the times of its construction (which was no less than two and a half thousand years ago), magic reigned supreme. The variety of its forms and colors captivated those few guests of the city who had managed to overcome all the hurdles associated with the recent tightening of security measures. Perhaps to the residents of Dalaran themselves, the street atmosphere did not seem to go beyond the bounds of reason, but fortunately, this did not affect the concentration of magic in the city—otherwise, the place would not be famous as the city of mages.
However, not everything encountered on its cobbled streets pertained specifically to magic. Sometimes quite mundane things occurred—for example, a scene of a quarrel between two young people…
Sunlight, penetrating freely through two huge windows, reflected off the clean polished floor and, not without the help of magic, scattered through the room in thousands of sunbeams, turning the small tavern into an extremely cozy place. Usually, this place served as a point of attraction for numerous couples in love. The atmosphere became truly romantic when, instead of the daytime luminary, its night sister looked into the panoramic windows located on both sides of the entrance door. Well, on moonless nights or overcast days, nothing stopped the hostess, who did not shy away from sorcery, from hanging several artificial sources of illumination near the establishment.
The day was just beginning, and the tavern in question was already half-occupied by youth thirsting for romance: ten out of twenty tables were already taken. The eleventh spot, and the last one by the window, was favored by a lone Human girl. It was quite likely that someone might think the young brunette was waiting for her gentleman, passing the minutes until their meeting by gazing at the street, but that was not the case. Dressed in black, the dark-eyed beauty was engaged in one of her favorite activities—something she had recently lacked catastrophically, namely—doing nothing.
While her palm, periodically clicking a metal spoon against nails coated in black polish, methodically carved up a dessert, sending small pieces of cake into her mouth time and again without fear of smearing her black lipstick, the girl herself closely watched a pair of academy students, seemingly ordinary, but who had somehow caught her attention. A blue-eyed brunette boy and a blonde girl were walking slowly along the cobbled street, and looking at their joined hands, the observer should have had no doubt that the pair was heading specifically to this tavern. However, the overly focused faces of both lovers made one doubt the accuracy of the assumptions, or even become wary—what if the mages had discovered the uninvited guest who had entered their city using a pass made in her Human name while her father was still alive? Although in such a case, they would hardly send some inexperienced students to catch her, even if, judging by the gold medallions, they were at the very top of the hierarchy of students at the Dalaran magic academy.
Looking closer and noticing their closed eyelids, the girl realized that by taking each other's hands, the young mages were clearly finding some other meaning in it, distinct from being in love. A flair of romance could still be traced in the pair, which was quite in keeping with the spirit of the establishment that was the goal of the couple's leisurely walk. The flare-up of paranoia subsided, and the anxiety settled on its own…
Since the medium-sized cake, a work of art by local confectioners, was in no hurry to end, and the gaze of the black eyes continued to follow the strange young mages intently, the appearance of a new participant in the performance, naturally, did not escape the attention of the person enjoying the treat and the fine day. The pair that interested the girl was just approaching the last intersection before the tavern when a knight on foot appeared from around the corner at the head of a small escort. Without a helmet, shining with a manly face presented for all to see, with a magnificent blue cloak thrown over his shoulders whose folds did nothing to hide the gleam of his gilded armor, the golden-haired leader of the squad seemed… no, was the embodiment of masculinity itself. Except, as it turned out later, none of the above made an impression on the girl-mage he approached…
The identity of the "knight" was easily established: who would the observer be, having spent significant time in the guise of an aristocrat's daughter, if she couldn't identify Arthas Menethil, whom she had personally seen several times at various receptions? This knowledge also identified Jaina Proudmoore—only the deaf didn't know about the relationship of the Prince of Lordaeron with his "colleague" from Kul Tiras, the nuances of which were actively discussed among young Lordaeronian noblewomen.
…The young mages, despite their mysterious activity, detected the visitor in advance and managed to turn to face him. The three young people stopped right in the center of the—not exactly busy—intersection. Exactly what the meeting trio of young people talked about remained unknown, but as a result of the conversation, the dark-haired mage boy shrugged and headed along the original route, that is, straight to the tavern. The remaining blonde pair slowly followed him; the warriors accompanying the young aristocrat, obeying a commanding wave from their charge, retreated into an alleyway.
The blonde pair looked so… synergistic together that even she, a representative of another race hiding under a Human guise, involuntarily admired the reunion of two halves of a single whole. True, after some time of observing them, when the external affinity of the blond man and the blonde woman stopped dazzling the eyes, it turned out that the relationship between the guy and the girl was not as rosy as the compatibility of their looks. In any case, although the blue-eyed Paladin burned with enthusiasm, the expression on the mage girl's face directly testified to a lack of interest in continuing the conversation, yet something prevented her from cutting off the unpleasant talk.
Engrossed in observing "humans in their natural habitat" and unexpected reflections on her own loneliness, the lover of dark tones lost sight of the third participant in the "love triangle." It was all the more unexpected when the next visitor to the tavern, the entrance to which was in the peripheral vision of the relaxing guest of Dalaran, looked around, approached her table specifically, and said quietly, making her start:
"Well now! What a pleasant surprise! I happen to have a couple of questions for your tribe. Greetings, winged one, my name is Lin."
The Human who addressed her turned out to be that same thin brunette—the companion of the girl currently being courted by the golden-haired prince. Having introduced himself, the guy, under her gaze which instantly became wary and hostile, sat down opposite the vacationer without permission and began to study the representative of another race with curiosity. The dragoness, hiding under the guise of a Human girl, quickly looked around, but seeing no sign of a trap, answered the Human who had easily revealed her essence with an equally intent, studying gaze, noting in the back of her mind that she had missed not only this "Lin," but also his creation of charms against eavesdropping.
"Who are you?" she finally asked, having discovered nothing special with either her sharp sight or keen sense of smell—outwardly an ordinary guy from the rising generation of Human mages.
"A student of Antonidas," the youth further introduced himself and immediately reassured his now-tense interlocutor: "But that doesn't matter—I approached, if I may put it this way, on my own initiative."
"Really?" the girl couldn't believe that an ordinary Human, even if he was a student of the head of the Kirin Tor, could just like that, passing by, detect a dragoness hiding in Human form and even under high-level masking charms, and then without a second thought approach to ask some questions. "And what makes you think I'm 'winged' anyway?"
The guy silently took a wooden circle out of his pocket and, turning it in his palm, explained:
"An artifact. It detects masking spells and warms up when approaching their source."
"In these troubled times, everyone who wants to live a little longer hides," the girl said slowly, choosing her words carefully, continuing to study her uninvited guest closely. "I could be an elf, a human, or even some kind of demoness… by the way, aren't you afraid?"
"Not every demon can overcome the anti-demon veil," he said, shaking his head negatively and pointing upward, hinting at the city's defense. "And one that could pull off such a trick would hardly just sit in a tavern and stare at passers-by. There's no point for Humans to bother with such complex spells just to disguise themselves as a human, except maybe for some spies. But then the same question—what would a spy be sniffing out in an ordinary tavern in broad daylight? Not student gossip, surely? It's all trivial. And as for being an elf… you eat too many sweets—they prefer fruit."
The stranger reacted to such arguments with a quiet snort and further commented:
"Not convinced."
While the interlocutors measured each other with their gazes, the aforementioned dessert was scooped up by a spoon and soon disappeared behind black maidenly lips: someone tried to compensate for nervousness by resuming the feast, and it couldn't be said that they were unsuccessful.
"You dragons, when trying on the guise of other sentients, are very fond of wearing clothes in the colors of your flights, not to mention that hair color, as a rule, also allows one to determine a dragon's family affiliation with reasonable confidence. And you have the full set: clothes, hair, lips, nails, and eyes—and if you can prove right now that you are not of the Black Dragonflight, then I… well, for example—I'll fulfill one request of yours. What do you say?"
After drilling Lin's calm face with her gaze, the stranger acted very much like a woman, suddenly changing the subject:
"So what were those questions of yours?"
"Well, in essence, just one," the guy responded readily. "What the demon is actually going on?!" he exclaimed quite emotionally and immediately hurried to reveal the core of his dissatisfaction: "Why, when Azeroth is threatened by everyone and their mother, does nobody do anything?! And in this case, by 'nobody,' I mean the Aspects first and foremost!"
The girl even unconsciously shook her head in confusion at such a claim.
"And how should I know?!" she exclaimed in response.
"What do you mean—'don't know'?" Lin frowned, for some reason believing her immediately. "You dragons can't help but wag your tongues among yourselves. Are your kin really not in the loop? I'll never believe it. You love sticking your long noses where you're asked and where you're not."
The mistress of the table pursed her lips. This sentiment didn't just have a right to exist; it was very close to the truth, but only regarding any other dragons except her. Being the daughter of a traitor Aspect cast its negative shadow on the traditions of family gatherings among the winged lizards.
"I haven't spoken with my kin on such topics in a very long time."
After drilling the stubborn girl with his gaze for a couple of seconds, Lin silently shrugged and, showing that his questions were over, turned to the window just in time to catch the climax of another conflict between childhood friends. Jaina stamped her foot in anger and, no longer listening to the handsome, stately blond, headed for the tavern, not noticing that her failed suitor followed her. Approaching the tavern, the princess froze for a moment, spotting Lin in the window with some beautiful stranger about five years older than her, but quickly regained her composure and finally reached the very establishment where she had long wanted to drag her boyfriend out of the whirlwind of the training process he had organized for himself.
The door creaked quietly as it opened, and the girl who entered, without looking around, stepped toward the table favored by her friend, boyfriend, and simultaneously teacher. She was halfway to her goal when the door behind her made that "melodious" sound again. Meeting his student's gaze, Lin gave a barely perceptible nod behind her back. Jaina glanced back and immediately turned to face the youth pursuing her, who, despite wearing armor, moved surprisingly quietly.
"Arthas, I thought we were finished with this conversation," the mage said dryly, clearly not happy about the return of her former boyfriend.
Arthas took a deep breath, calming himself.
"I sincerely apologized, Jaina. Why won't you give me another chance? At least for the sake of old friendship?"
The girl sighed just as heavily.
"Magic to mages, power to kings—to each their own," with just one phrase, she both set her priorities and showed that their paths were diverging, not in some distant future, but right now.
The prince opened his mouth but, stunned, could not utter a word. Despite the fact that he himself, like his chosen one, sat on "two chairs": heir to the throne and member of the Order of the Silver Hand—the boy did not contemplate that he could fully devote himself to the path of a Paladin. And now to hear such a thing from Jaina… No, he, of course, remembered the dreams of his childhood friend, but until the last moment, he didn't think she would just up and almost explicitly renounce her position! Even if it wasn't the royal throne (her older brother was the heir, after all), the title of Her Highness was not something to be tossed away casually! By deciding to become an ordinary mage, she…
Images flashed before the prince's eyes: a maidenly figure toiling through the night over ancient tomes by the light of a single candle, and himself, sitting on his father's throne in the plate armor of his mentor, surrounded by a crowd of courtiers and the bright light flooding the throne room through stained-glass windows.
"…Lost a good deal of her appeal," Arthas suddenly realized and looked at his intended bride in a new way. One of the pillars responsible in his eyes for the young lady's exceptionality: "princess," "mage," "childhood friend," and so on—was severely shaken. He didn't even think about the girl's beauty at that moment—he had seen prettier in Stratholme.
Arthas studied the silent girl for a while, then suddenly turned and headed for the exit, throwing out one last word:
"Farewell, Jaina."
The budding sorceress said nothing in response: she had already said her goodbyes out there on the street; instead, she turned to her original goal and, taking the remaining steps, looked questioningly at Lin, nodding slightly toward the grim-looking girl.
"I would introduce you, but she didn't introduce herself," the guy smiled disarmingly and waved toward a neighboring table where a spare chair could be borrowed. "Go on, sit down."
While Jaina pulled up the desired piece of furniture under the gaze of the even more deeply frowning (though it seemed impossible to frown more) nameless dragoness, whose peace had already been disturbed twice by uninvited visits, Lin brought his friend up to speed regarding the identity of their new acquaintance.
"A dragon?" Jaina asked again, having settled side-by-side with her boyfriend, carefully studying the sulking dark-eyed brunette, who, though continuing to remain silent, didn't seem to be planning a tactical retreat just yet.
"Yes. Young, inexperienced, and knowing nothing," the former Archmage blurted out the plain truth, causing the stranger to significantly dilute the white-and-black shades of her face with red, either from embarrassment or from the famous rage to which sentient reptiles were very prone. "Useless. Но you once mentioned that you'd never seen a dragon before? So here—look."
"Hmm… So what is your name? You've already heard mine," Jaina asked the girl sitting opposite her, who was completely distorted by the "useless" comment.
The lover of sweets tried to quell her anger and consider the opportunities that had appeared—the new acquaintance promised to be extremely useful to her. Revealing her past name of Katrana Prestor—daughter of Daval Prestor, who was her father's persona—was fraught with problems, for death had not cleared the Aspect of the black dragons of all the atrocities he had managed to commit while succumbing to the madness of the Old Gods. But the name given to her at birth was currently known to an extremely narrow circle of people, which included only an idiot brother and a mother who had gone missing, and using it should not lead to the discovery of her kinship with Deathwing. Besides, she realized that the roles had changed, and now she very much wanted to ask the uninvited guests a few things. And the dragoness made up her mind, not bothering to invent another fake name:
"Onyxia."
Perhaps connections with Human mages were exactly what a fugitive hiding from her kin needed?
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Outskirts of Dalaran.
It couldn't be said that the Night Elves knew absolutely nothing about the inhabitants of the eastern continent. No, of course, they knew. And they knew enough by their standards to track the activity of their fugitive kin for signs of cooperation with demons and other situations threatening all of Azeroth. True, over time, the security of the borders of Azshara's lackeys became quite unprecedented, and the scouts of the once-unified people had to settle for indirect signs of the absence of collusion with Sargeras's clique and rumors wandering through the Human lands. Collecting the latter, by the way, was also not that simple: the local elves were in no hurry to arrange frequent excursions to the Human kingdoms, and therefore the scouts had to pass themselves off as fellow kin who had changed their place of residence with very great caution—it was easier to disguise themselves as humans… Which was not the simplest task—certainly not with their tall stature and long ears.
And now, hiding in the shadows of the forest edge, five elf women watched the Human city, which behind its wall and the spires of distant towers rising above the defensive structure, hid the shore of the continent's largest lake. One of those very scouts who monitored the situation on the eastern continent was late. And it was with his help that Shandris and her team expected to get behind the walls of Dalaran, into its center—to where the guiding thread of the artifact given to them by the High Priestess of Elune pointed, which the Rangers had been able to determine quite accurately thanks to measurements of the intensity of the pyramid's glow taken from various points in the city's outskirts.
Finally, the search party's wait ended with the appearance of an unremarkable, except for his tall stature, middle-aged Human man playing the role of a simple merchant…
… "No, I can only bring one of you into the city," the ally repeated for the umpteenth time, still not dropping his disguise. "You don't understand what you're asking—security measures are being tightened almost every day!"
"We must all pass," Shandris explained her position patiently. "My sisters are highly specialized. I don't know exactly what we'll have to do within the city limits, so I need my entire team."
The man shook his head.
- This is too dangerous. I don't know what kind of mission you have or if it allows for exposure, but I can tell you one thing—mine certainly does not. I cannot lose connections and information sources established over decades for the sake of momentary gain. And you don't even know the language properly!
- And I cannot reveal the goal of the mission… but if we succeed, I promise—you might not have to hide among Humans anymore.
This time the Scout, known by the name Karsadan, went even further in demonstrating his distrust of the questionable plans of his unexpected compatriots—he sighed heavily, then began to explain:
"Everyone is checked at the entrance, but that's not really a major problem. The problem is that my status as a city resident allows me to bring in only one guest. What you want can be organized in principle, but within a reasonable timeframe, not in a single day."
Now it was Shandris's turn to show moral exhaustion from this conversation and sigh. This bargaining was starting to annoy her: they had started with it being impossible in principle, then it turned out one Elf could still penetrate the city, and now it turns out they only need to wait a certain number of days, and Dalaran will open its arms to uninvited guests.
"How much time will it take, and what do you need for it?" — the Elf moved to specifics.
"And what else could be needed for a matter involving illegal passage into a guarded city?" — the man asked in surprise.
The girl frowned, not understanding the hint.
"Money, obviously," — the spy even rolled his eyes at such lack of professionalism. — "Only gold can help those involved overcome the fear of possible punishment for your failure."
"Our failure?!"
"I don't believe that any mission treated so carelessly can be accompanied by success. And your entire appearance says plainly that none of you have ever been to this continent and know nothing of the local realities or the current situation."
"You must get us into the city as soon as possible—the rest is not your concern."
"And the gold?" — the man hurried to remind her, seeing the Sentinel beginning to turn away from him.
The Elf playing at being a spy was wrong: though there was little time for preparation, the Sentinels had spent it specifically studying the situation on the neighboring continent. Interestingly enough, they had been studying the reports of scouts hiding on the eastern mainland. Therefore, they had learned about the settled Humans and their love for the yellow metal almost immediately. However, Shandris had no intention of explaining anything to her overly humanized kinsman. And the frowning Elf understood this.
"In two days at this spot," — the resident of Dalaran dropped, turning around, and without saying goodbye, headed toward the road.
For a while, the Elves watched their departing kinsman, but once he vanished from sight, the members of the search party began an exchange of opinions that devolved into typical girl talk.
"Who does he think he is? Some 'expert on Humans' he turned out to be."
"Perhaps the proximity of the Quel'dorei has that effect…"
Shandris, however, did not join in the gossiping about their kinsman and, unlike her partners, sank into silence, looking thoughtfully at the distant city walls: something about this whole situation didn't sit right with her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was… But she still had time to think.
------------------//------------------
"… Murlocs?!" — the girl couldn't help but exclaim, unable to restrain herself, while her partner simply remained silent. — "But that's not our level! Or is this because of the previous failure in Ironforge? But there…"
"Yes, Jaina," — the long-bearded Elder interrupted her, having already grown accustomed to his student's emotional outbursts. — "It is precisely because of the kidnapping attempt that I will only send you on simple missions. The last thing I need is to lose the Princess of Kul Tiras due to carelessness; one time was enough for me. As for escort duty—by all means…"
"And to think what a quiet and calm girl she was... before the second student appeared," the thought flashed, and Antonidas cast a slightly displeased look at the calm young man, but immediately replaced anger with mercy. "But what a strong Mage she has become thanks to him! It's a pity the boy himself isn't as gifted: talented beyond measure—that much is true—but in terms of magical potential… without a well-developed system of energy channels and a large reserve of Mana, he will never become an Archmage." The Archmage of Dalaran did not have the habit of downplaying his own shortcomings and knew he was not the best teacher for young Mages. What could be done—the Archmage had plenty of work, and there wasn't enough time left for instructing the rising generation, yet students were necessary—it was a matter of prestige. And besides, should he be the one dealing with every mundane trifle? That was not a rational use of the Kirin Tor leader's time… And furthermore—Antonidas tried to select the most capable for a reason; he guided their development, providing access to all sorts of academy benefits and some personal knowledge and connections, but they had to polish their own talent independently, revealing and using their giftedness to the full. And so far, this tactic of his—giving some freedom of action and allocating resources—had justified itself. The current students confirmed the effectiveness of his teaching method one hundred percent. Or even two hundred—at least, his ego was satisfied the more indignation he found in the official note of protest regarding the students' actions in Ironforge, handed to him by the authorized ambassador of King Magni Bronzebeard.
"… Furthermore," — the brief mental tangent didn't stop the Archmage from simultaneously explaining the background of the next mission to Jaina and Lin, but now the safety lecture was coming to an end, — "Jaina, it would be wonderful if you practiced killing enemies. Theory without practice is dead, but you won't get far on training alone without real experience."
To which Lin, to the Mage's complete satisfaction, also nodded, confirming his statement, while the girl sighed but remained silent, which in itself testified to her agreement with the necessity of gaining said experience.
"Then, Teacher, I have a question," — Lin decided to clarify an unclear point. — "As far as I know, the Murlocs near Lordamere have been almost entirely exterminated; at least, the latest version of the traveler's guide claims so. If any stragglers remain, they've hidden in the deepest thickets of the coastal brush, and it's unlikely they have any sufficiently strong Shamans, or whatever else their magic-wielders are. Our assignment will turn into a pointless search and wandering through swamps, and the goals for gaining experience won't be achieved. Perhaps we could go somewhere else? If Murlocs are specifically required, then according to the guide, a large number of them inhabit the coast of the Great Sea on both the northern and southern sides. Or we could go hunt some Outlaws; though, it's unlikely we'd encounter Mages among them…"
"Enough, I understand," — Antonidas stopped him and said thoughtfully: — "I never would have thought the Murlocs could be wiped out. During my training, they seemed inexterminable without a full-scale military campaign…"
For a moment, the eyes of the powerful sorcerer were clouded by a veil of nostalgia, but he quickly returned to the present and suggested:
"Well then, head to Southshore. Its surroundings are settled and well-studied, so it's relatively safe. The northern border of Lordaeron is too close to the shores of Quel'Thalas, and the situation there is very tense right now. But the seas are generally restless these days, so be careful out there, no reckless bravado. Good luck! And don't forget the fins…"
The young man, lost in thought, nodded several more times in rhythm with the mentor's words about sea dangers, as if he were familiar with them firsthand, which the great Mage didn't notice as he vanished into the corridor after his parting words.
"When do we leave?" — the girl asked, watching the old man go.
"It's only the beginning of the day—we'll pack and head out by lunch," — Lin suggested. — "Why delay?"
She nodded in agreement and, already rising from her chair, clarified:
"On foot or by portal?"
"As you wish, but it's still a bit early for you to handle portals over such distances on your own. Though we could go by portal—we'll ask someone to help. In principle, I could open one myself… if I raid the academy's supplies for a few Mana batteries."
"Then we'll go on foot," — Jaina decided. — "I'll be at the exit in half an hour."
"Good."
And the pair hurried off to their respective apartments.
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"And was it worth panicking? 'Impossible! Forbidden! It won't work!'. Even if a whole week has passed, we still made it inside the walls of Dalaran," the nervous Shandris smirked to herself as their group of five passed through the city gates after the guards inspected the Enchanted badge-passes provided by the spy. Behind the mental monologue was an attempt to calm the sense of anxiety overcoming the girl.
"And why waste time? Everyone here has grown lazy," the girl looked around warily, ignoring the beauties of the famous city of Mages. "I'll have to tell Tyrande that Karsadan intentionally stalled the mission, let her give him what for..." — here her thoughts broke off. "Intentionally… intentionally!"
The member of the ancient order of Sentinels broke into a cold sweat at the mere suggestion of the Scout deliberately delaying the operation to penetrate the inner sanctum of Human Mages. Elf history had known more than one betrayal, and they all, as a rule, ended disastrously for her people.
Until this very moment, vague suspicions had been drifting on the edge of her consciousness, unable to fit into a single consistent picture… But now all the oddities finally tied into one knot: the long delay in getting the passes, the overly simple check at the gates compared to what they had seen before (no one even asked them anything!), and the growing feeling of trouble that usually arose in her when malicious gazes were present—all these premises indicated they had been lured into an ambush, and the squad hadn't been taken in that same forest earlier only because Azshara's lackeys (and who else could it be?!) were very interested in their mission. It was quite possible that she and her sisters owed the Quel'dorei's decision to postpone the attack to her promise to Karsadan that if they succeeded, he would no longer have to hide among Humans. Except she had meant she would ask Tyrande to recall their kinsman, who had provided invaluable help to the squad, back to their homeland, while he apparently decided it was some epic mission affecting the balance of power on Azeroth… And most sadly, if that was the case, Karsadan had, as they say, hit the nail on the head, since Tyrande placed many hopes on the return of Illidan Stormrage.
The plan to test her suspicions formed quickly enough—they hadn't even walked a single block. All she had to do was duck into the first deserted alleyway and use one of the techniques of Druidic magic. Shandris logically reasoned that if no one was following them, no one would be interested in birds taking flight or a cat running out of a nook, and then they would simply enter the city again using the same passes; otherwise—changing form would be the first step to regrouping and throwing off the pursuit from their now non-figurative tails. Signaling for them to follow her, Shandris stepped toward the chosen alley, but before disappearing into it, she had time to think that Karsadan's reluctance to meet them at the gate in light of the circumstances was another weight on the scales of distrust toward the spy, despite his reasonable explanation about not wanting to draw anyone's attention to the connection between a simple amulet merchant and the Highborne.
The noise of the streets quieted after the very first turn, and Shandris didn't waste time and spoke plainly, using the backup method for entering the city, only adapting it for escape:
"We are leaving right now. We act according to the second option. We meet at the third point," — Shandris chose a location quite distant from Dalaran as the assembly point.
Though the subordinates were surprised by the suddenness of such a decision, the question of trust in the Commander was not an issue. A few seconds later, three birds took flight over the roofs of the two-story houses and, rapidly gaining altitude, flew off in different directions. If the birds had caught the eye of some local ornithologist, he would have confidently identified them as forest dwellers and immediately noted that such birds were not found in this region. Simultaneously with the feathered ones, a huge ginger cat, looking from a distance like a tiger cub, leaped out of the alley. Zoology experts of a related field would have stated with no less confidence than their colleagues before them that the cat didn't just look like the striped representatives of the jungle, it was one of them. A purebred tiger cub. No one else appeared from the alley; however, on a parallel street, a ferret flickered by, which most residents had never seen once in their lives.
Average Mages practicing Druidism, which allowed turning into beasts or birds, did not know how to change the weight of the animal form, especially beginners and those who chose Druidism as a secondary specialization. And though the Elves could not be considered Druids, any individual, even the most negligent, can hone the necessary skill over millennia of practice, and Shandris, preparing for the mission, had chosen the best of the best… That is why it wasn't some huge clumsy condors trying to hide in the blue sky, but ordinary small birds, and among the nooks, a small ferret and a striped cub were trying to get lost, not the king of the jungle himself.
For the first few seconds after the retreat, it seemed to Shandris that her fears were not confirmed and she had worked herself up with suspicions. Also, one point in the chosen escape plan was troubling—the inability to contact her sisters in the order while in animal form, for they would only learn of an attack on a squad member after the fact, or if the enemies turned out to be too noisy… On the other hand, catching a Sentinel in beast form is much harder, though the Elf couldn't help but note that a forest was better suited for such tactics.
After a minute of moving through the tangled streets of Dalaran, the "supposed" enemies made their move, obviously deciding that a dragon in the sky was too unreachable, and a sparrow in the hand would suffice, for one could learn the goal of the Kaldorei five by catching one of them. Shandris didn't know how the attempts to capture her subordinates went, if they happened at all, and if they did, how successful they were, but she herself had to swallow a full dose of adrenaline on a small stretch of one of the streets. First, the ferret she was currently embodying was targeted by mental charms intended to stop her. A strong fear briefly gripped Shandris, her thoughts began to scramble, but her body only accelerated its run, relying on animal instincts, which was the strength of the Druid form-change. After the failure of the first attempt, they tried to freeze her several times, and then even turn her into an ice sculpture, but hitting a nimble animal that didn't shy away from using walls for movement proved an impossible task for the attacker. When there was almost nothing left until the exit of the alley, the still unknown opponent tried to take more decisive measures and stopped being cautious, using a spell of more or less area effect. A faint explosion rang out, a flash of fire flared up behind Shandris, a stream of hot air caught the ferret, and with singed fur, she was blown out of the passage to where she was heading—onto the street, which, unlike the back alleys, was not empty. The calculation was that the attacker would not risk starting a battle in a crowded place.
Either the trick worked, or the enemy was not as mobile, or the capabilities for capturing the target alive for this specific Mage were limited—in any case, the battered-looking animal weaving between people's legs was no longer attacked. Shandris, ignoring the pain from light burns, sought to lose herself in the city. When the battle fervor from the skirmish subsided, the Elf noticed that the thread connecting her to the search artifact was pulsing in her head. Concentrating on it, Shandris learned with surprise that it was no longer just hinting, but plainly stating the immediate proximity of the sought-after Illidan Stormrage! Either she had somehow managed to pass several blocks in a couple of minutes of running and found herself in the center where the participant of the War of the Ancients was hiding, or the sought-after Elf had changed location for the first time in the last week and, by her estimation, was now somewhere on almost the very next street!
The news was staggering in the proximity of the goal, and the fact that the goal was the famous Illidan Stormrage only intensified the feeling.
"There can be a celebration in our tree too," such luck greatly encouraged the girl, who in the last minute had already managed to both lose heart and resign herself to the failure of the mission. A small square, an alley, another street—the distance to the destination was measured in a dozen or two meters, and now the animal darted among the passersby, trying to understand exactly where the artifact was pointing. But in such proximity to the goal, doing so proved not so easy. At the memory of the pursuit hanging on her tail, Shandris's joy began to fade. The ferret froze in the middle of the street in confusion, and then began to desperately turn its head, sharply wishing to discover the lost one visually. But a tall Elf with purple skin was nowhere to be seen nearby. People, people—nothing but ordinary people all around!
Shandris remembered Karsadan's disguise—after all, he too looked like a simple Human. She began running in circles again, but this time looking more closely at the passersby, trying to match the information received from the artifact with the observed pattern of people moving, performing the same trick of determining Illidan Stormrage's location with which she had learned that the sought-after Elf was in the center of Dalaran. This action was hindered by the fact that some of the passersby stopped and began to stare at the darting animal, and the rapidly slipping time weighed heavily on her mind, making her nervous and prone to mistakes.
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: patreon.com/Granulan