The arrow, imbued with a silvery glow, struck the heart of the Nightmare Beast swarm, triggering a small but potent explosion...
When the dust settled, only scorched earth remained. The Nightmare Beasts that had charged so menacingly were utterly annihilated.
Truly, Galen thought with a touch of wry amusement, she's a woman who can wield the Moon God Orbital Cannon. So formidable, even I couldn't defeat her!
"Galen, how did these Nightmare Beasts come to be?" Shandris frowned, her usually bright eyes clouded with concern. She couldn't comprehend why such grotesque creatures would infest a place revered by the Druids as paradise.
"Xavius," Galen replied, his voice grim. "Do you remember him?"
"Xavius? Of course, I remember him!" Shandris's face twisted with distaste. Back then, Xavius had kidnapped Tyrande, and it was Shandris who had landed the arrow that halted his escape. Malfurion had then used the opportunity to empower that same arrow, causing it to grow into a massive tree that consumed the Highborne traitor from within.
"He's... not dead?" Shandris asked, a hint of disbelief in her voice.
"That's right," Galen confirmed. "After becoming a tree, he sank into the sea. There, he embraced the evil of the Old Gods and re-entered the Emerald Dream, corrupting this land."
As Galen detailed the Nightmare Lord's origins to the Night Elf general, he also took in their surroundings.
The Emerald Dream, he knew, was essentially a Titan-created blueprint of ancient Azeroth, a pristine reflection of the world's most primal form, untouched by the cataclysmic events that had reshaped the surface.
Therefore, the Emerald Dream mirrored ancient Kalimdor, a land vastly different from the modern Azeroth, fragmented into continents and scattered islands.
We entered through the Feralas portal, Galen reasoned, his eyes scanning the landscape. So, we must be in ancient Feralas. Malfurion entered near Mount Hyjal, which lies to the north!
"That's the situation in brief," Galen concluded. "We need to reach Malfurion, but the journey is... extensive."
Shandris considered the vast, corrupted landscape. "If I were to ride a Hippogryph from Feathermoon Stronghold, it would take at least ten days of flight. How will we get there?"
Mount Hyjal was situated in the northwestern part of ancient Kalimdor, while Feralas lay to the west, slightly to the south. Traveling by conventional means would take at least a month.
Galen, on his first foray into the Emerald Dream, lacked any teleportation coordinates within this strange, verdant realm. He glanced at Emeriss, the green dragon, who had entered the Dream just before them. Her face was pale, her movements sluggish, as if she were recovering from a grievous illness. It would be too cruel to exploit her further, he thought.
Fortunately, Galen had come prepared.
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
"Huff, huff!"
"Huff, huff!"
Galen and Shandris raced across the Emerald Dream, giant trees blurring past them. If there had been a speedometer, their velocity would have approached two hundred yards per hour.
Their mount was none other than the soul form of Agamaggan, the Boar God.
Agamaggan's soul was a colossal entity, a scarlet behemoth nearly ten meters tall, resembling an immensely magnified boar.
His body was a mass of powerful, well-defined muscles, and his thick hide was studded with massive thorns, forming a natural armor.
The boar god's rushing form caused his mane to whip through the air, and as he ran, a trail of shimmering fallen leaves and ethereal blossoms bloomed on the dream-like ground, swirling around his hooves.
However, this demigod was not known for his gentle demeanor. He charged across rivers and mountains, relying on his thick hide, powerful muscles, and thorny armor to smash through any obstacle, giving Galen a truly... unique riding experience.
"Sigh!"
Galen, perched precariously on Agamaggan's neck, clung tightly to the boar god's temples, the relentless bumps threatening to dislodge him at any moment.
He felt a profound sense of... discomfort. Yet, he was unwilling to transform into a cheetah or a storm crow for more civilized travel. In the end, he was forced to endure.
I'm already here. Can I really refuse?
"Galen!"
Shandris, clinging to the boar god's bumpy back, struggled to reach Galen's side.
"It's been so long," she shouted over the thunderous rhythm of Agamaggan's hooves, "why haven't I seen Sister Alleria and Sister Sylvanas with you?"
During the War of the Ancients, Galen's two confidantes had carved a bloody swathe through the demonic armies, their legendary feats still recounted in the Sentinel Corps, a force dominated by female warriors.
"They..." Galen hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "... They may never appear again."
He intended to convey that Alleria and Sylvanas were now mothers, devoted to raising Legolas and Arator. They were unlikely to resume their roles as ancient heroines.
However, his words carried a different weight in Shandris's ears.
"I am so sorry for your loss, Galen," Shandris said softly, her voice filled with sympathy. "May the Moon Mother guide their souls."
"Huh?"
"What?"
Galen asked, bewildered, but his words were swallowed by Agamaggan's thunderous breathing...
Damn it, he thought, exasperated. When did I say the Windrunner sisters were dead? They'd flay me alive if they heard this!
Galen turned to face Shandris, their expressions equally somber.
"Even after ten thousand years, I still remember them," Shandris continued, her voice tinged with a wistful sadness. "They were powerful, excellent, and... perfect!"
"They fought bravely against the Burning Legion, achieving great victories for our people. They were with you then, and you... you truly loved them."
"Of course," Galen affirmed, nodding slowly.
"I... I truly envy her," Shandris admitted, her gaze fixed on some distant memory.
What can I even say to that? Galen wondered, his mind racing. He had hoped to steer clear of emotional entanglements, but fate, it seemed, had other plans.
Galen sighed. "Shandris, you don't have to be like this."
Alleria and Sylvanas aren't gone! he wanted to shout. Why are you so mournful? Am I supposed to pretend I don't notice?
The Night Elf woman looked at Galen, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. To suddenly lose one's beloved, or in Galen's case, two... how unbearable the pain must be! How has he endured all these years?
He must be so, so sad!
Her eyes were wet, but not entirely for the two "departed." After all, Shandris's connection to them had been relatively brief.
"I apologize, Galen. I was... thoughtless," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "You know that I have the deepest sympathy for you. After so long... to suddenly lose them... it shouldn't be this way."
Please, no more! Galen thought desperately. I don't know what expression I'm supposed to wear to navigate this! I'm grateful for the sentiment, but...
Galen had no choice but to interrupt Shandris's outpouring of grief.
"Shandris," he said, his voice firm but gentle, "we shouldn't dwell on the sorrows of the past. Besides... I've moved on."