It was supposed to be a simple ceremony. A simple test. Well, not so simple, but a ceremonial test - not a true vision of what was to come!
Lena shook her head and trembled on her side of the blankets on the ground, Krastos snoring beside her. She slipped out from under the blanket and pulled on a light robe, then stepped quietly outside the tent. Her pendant was still locked around her neck, still warm to the touch for all the magic she had poured through it that night.
She squatted out of range of the smoldering campfire, exhausted, nearly drained of magic. Many millennia ago, she had learned not to completely drain herself on any given day. There was always at least one more wave of enemies, one more spell, one more conjuring to do, and tonight was no different.
Vitaska confirmed his promotion through the ranks of the Shadows of Argus, achieving one of the highest possible ranks for a non-officer. The vision Lena conjured for his trial tasked him with leading, without question, a battalion of Shadows troops into battle. It pained her to even consider her friends and allies on a suicide mission, but she held her ground, held the vision, fretted for the potential for this vision to have shades of truth. Vitaska performed admirably, unflinchingly leading, even if his eyes showed sadness and regret. In the vision, all who accompanied the paladin fought honorably, barely succeeding, but by the Light, they prevailed.
Once brought out of the vision, Vitaska was rewarded justly, formally promoted, and celebrations ensued. But Lena still worried. Even illusions held shards of the truth, and the battle-torn Vale of Eternal Blossoms wrenched her heart. Garrosh's Horde had been steadily advanced, seeking something deep within the Vault of Y'saarj. Casters focused in the background, summoning something, archers eagle-eyed the advancing party, and footsoldiers advanced.
She chanted softly and cast the small circle on the ground, going more in depth than her usual scrying. Her vision clouded and expanded, wavering and shifting into the scene from earlier that night. Lena pried at the bounds of the magic that held the scene, but found them secure. This was not an illusion. It was the truth. The battles in the Vale of Eternal Blossoms were real. She knew they had been coming, if she was honest with herself. They all knew. Horde forces had been steadily encroaching on the territory, and the destruction of the Vale was imminent.
Lena sadly traced the ground illuminated in blue with a lanky finger. The battle would be terrible. There would be massive losses on all sides, but most notably the loss of the Vale. Garrosh Hellscream's visage flooded the vision, terrible and red-eyed, crazed with the lust for power as he held the limp body of Taran Zhu and gleefully released the Sha into the Vale.
Lena hastily brushed tears from her eyes, bending to the ground and touching her forehead against the scrying circle.
Orgrimmar would fall for this.
