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The Keep was alive with activity even before what passed as dawn came to the fortification. There was little chatter; whatever words that were exchanged were simply for basic communication and relaying orders and instructions. Supplies were distributed quickly and efficiently as the men filed out, the gravity of their impending relocation having wiped the rank-and-file clean of any distracting thoughts or merriment.
The dignitaries were the last to join the dispatch as it stood in its usual formation outside the Keep’s walls, all neat rows and columns, every soldier standing to attention. The Draenei ambassador was cool and collected, the faces of his Exarch companions set in stony expressions of stoic determination. Theluin’s complexion betrayed little else but his usual, quiet calm.
Eleazar allowed himself a brief observation of Tuan as she let Sandy pull level with Abolition. The she-rogue hadn’t said much during the necessarily brief morning meal, and now sat in her saddle with her back hunched, leaning against the pommel on her palms with her head bowed. Apparently noticing his silent scrutiny, she raised her head and shot him a faint, weary smile. At the very least, she didn’t seem nearly as much of a wreck as she had been the previous night.
The ram’s horn sounded once, twice, thrice. A single metal trumpet answered from the Keep, and that was all the farewell they got. The dispatch filed out.
When the infantry had picked up its usual marching speed, Eleazar rode close to Sandy again. Tuan looked over at him almost before he pulled level and gave another light smile.
“No need to worry, Eli,” she mumbled quietly, more out of consideration to the nearby delegates than any overt exhaustion.
Eli allowed himself a measure of relief. “Ye’re feeling better today, Miss Tuan?”
She nodded lightly and stared ahead. “I’d like to imagine it was the sleep more than anything. But yeah, I think that infusion managed to set back the migraine a whole day.” She rubbed her face discreetly. “Here’s to hoping it’ll help when …” She petered off, her hand dropping and her eyes hardening.
Eli let his gaze stray toward the horizon as well. They were still too far away to be able to spot the Portal with the naked eye, but the aura of mind-numbing force emanating from the accursed construct was already palpable. There wasn’t a single inch of this land that didn’t cower in dread beneath the ancient artefact’s presence.
The trip southward proceeded without delay or incident. Below the base of the Portal itself, paired war camps had been erected; one abuzz with Alliance soldiers, the other full of Horde warriors. The former stood respectfully to attention, saluting their battlebrothers as they filed past. The latter paused in their various site duties just long enough to glower in stubborn enmity, only for their leers to recede into expressions of stunned surprise when the human ranks of the dispatch force silently saluted them as well. There were even a few stray salutes in return.
Tuan glanced meaningfully at Eli. “The speech is still in fresh memory, I see.” The Paladin merely smiled modestly.
And then they all reined in their various steeds. The Portal was directly ahead – two gigantic, unadorned monoliths crested by a third laid horizontal, making a simple, rectangular doorway … in whose midst an impenetrable vortex of raw nether swirled, like an inescapable maelstrom of doom.
“Alright, men.” Even the dispatch captain’s voice seemed to tremble almost imperceptibly. “The Draenei cohorts go through first, and we follow after them. It’s a courtesy thing, them having their ancient grudge with the Legion, but don’t worry – I’m sure they’ll leave some of the fighting to us.” There were a few scattered laughs among the human ranks, albeit decidedly nervous, and the soldiers looked uniformly relieved that they would not have to take the first step into an altogether unknown world.
The captain nodded to the trio of Draenei delegates, and the Exarchs took their positions to either side and just ahead of the ambassador as the impeccable ranks of the blue-skinned warriors did one last-minute check of their equipment. The ambassador turned his imposing elekk around, addressing his kinsmen in the peculiar, coarse yet melodic language of his people, apparently giving a brief but heartfelt speech of fortification. He ended with what seemed to be a simple blessing, confirmed by the way every Draenei present raised one hand to their forehead in a strange, deferential gesture.
And then the formation surged forward on a single, unspoken cue, disappearing row by row into the Portal.
A low whinny from Sandy made Eli quickly look in Tuan’s direction. The stallion was pawing the ground uncertainly, chewing the bridle that had been inexplicably pulled back sharply. Eli shifted his gaze to the rider, and felt his heart constrict with empathy. Tuan had bowed her head so low her chin was flush against her chest, and her knuckles had whitened around the reins.
Eli quickly backed up Abolition and put an armoured hand on the she-rouge’s shoulder. She flinched hard, and grimaced dejectedly.
“Fel,” she muttered. “I was so sure I could do this …”
“There’s still time to pull out, Miss Tuan,” Eli said in a low, reassuring voice. “No-one’ll think less o’ you if you concede now.”
She drew a deep, hoarse breath and straightened up with a visible effort, fixing her gaze on the abominable edifice ahead. “I gave Mathias my word I would see this through,” she growled. “I haven’t failed him so far, and I’m not going to fail him now.”
Theluin joined them on soundless Saber paws, looking up at Tuan with deep compassion. “We will enter together, all three at once. You are not alone in this.” The she-rogue nodded slowly, her face still hard.
Eli couldn’t help but smile lopsidedly. “Think of it as a bandage. Better get it over with.”
Tuan sighed heavily. “There’s just no way we’re doing this gently, is there?”
Before Eli could reply, the dispatch captain called out the order to advance. The Paladin looked between his friends – old and new. “Time’s up. Now or never.”
Theluin looked ahead, his face taking on a new expression – one only Tuan had witnessed before, and only once. “Into the maw of the beast, then.” Even the elderly Kaldorei’s voice had changed.
“And out of the demon’s ass,” the she-rogue snarled, burying her heels in Sandy’s sides. The stallion shot forward.
-flash-
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Originally written by Tuan Taureo
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