Shia waited for the townsfolk to file into the meeting house before slipping out and turning to Whitemoon's house. Whitemoon opened the door almost before Shia had time to knock and beckoned his friend inside.
"I'm so glad you came, there's something wrong with Relara. She was sleeping fine and then a few hours ago she went into fits, started screaming, throwing up, I thought I was going to loose her. No one in the town knew what to do." Whitemoon sat down besdies the bed, where Relara was tossing and turning in her sleep. Her face was covered in sweat and her eyes were squeezed tight as if she were in great pain. "Please, is there anything you can do to help, just to calm her down a little?"
Shia took Relara's hand. It was cold and clammy. The little girl wimpered and jerked her hand away. Shiawase sighed and let it drop back to the bed.
"There's nothing I can do for her at the moment, but it seems her condition is linked to a greater threat that's coming."
"What are you talking about Shia? What threat? Are we in danger?"
"I don't know." Shia turned to Whitemoon and put his hands on his friend's shoulders solomnly. "Right now I don't know what's going on, but I do know it's big, it's important, and it means that I have to leave Ashenvale for a little while."
"What? Leave? Why?"
"I don't have the time to explain it. All I can say is that my nightmares, my behavior, my uneasyness, it's not just the tension of protecting the town. There's a malicious force behind it, and if I can't figure out what that force is and how to get rid of it I'll become a danger to you and your daughter and everyone else here."
"What are you talking about Shia, I don't understand!"
"I don't either." Shia gave Whitemoon a weak smile. "Please believe me brother, I don't want to leave, and I may not be back very soon, but I have to go, for your sake and for mine."
"And what about Relara?"
"I can't promise you that I can help her, only that I'll do everything in my power to try. Please, I know it's difficult, but you must trust me in this."
"And what about you?"
"What about me?"
Whitemoon pulled Shias hands off of his shoulder and put them in his own. "Tell me honestly, are you coming back? Because with the way you're acting you sound as if you're headed for a suicide mission."
Shia blushed and looked at the pot of stew bubbling in Whitemoon's hearth. Whitemoon shook the Druid's hands angrly.
"Tell me, you -are- coming back, aren't you?"
"I can't really say, I don't even know where I'm going."
"I don't care, promise me you're coming back."
"I can't, brother."
"I don't care if you think you can or not. Promise me that you will."
"I promise then," Shia mumbled.
Whitemoon shook Shia's hands once firmly. "Good. Here." He turned and pulled a small trunk out from under the bed. In it was a small selection of baubbles and jewelry, from which Whitemoon selected a silver chain with a black pearl pendant and handed it to the druid.
"This was Sirath's. It's very precious to me, and a part of my love and heart is sitting in this pearl. I want you to wear it, and when you come back, I want it returned."
"I can't take that brother."
"You -will- take it, Shia. Or I'll wrestle you to the ground and put it around your neck myself."
"I really have to go." Shia turned to the door. Whitemoon grabbed him by the arm and spun him back around before pushing the necklace onto his chest.
"Take it. At least then when you're alone out there you'll know you have something worthing fighting back to. And at least then -I- won't be such a nervous wreck."
Shia took the necklace and put it on reluctantly. "I never believed in these things," he mumbled.
Whitemoon pulled Shia forward for a hug. "Just be safe."
There was nothing for Shiawase to pack besides a small bag of bread and dried fish. He met the Druids at the Astranaars western bridge. All four of them morphed into travel forms, and began the long trek up to Stonetalon Peak. Stormrage and Thendil remained circling about Shia and Cirrimor, who had no arial totems and had to rely on the speed of their cat forms to make their way. They sped through the forest, down the tunnel that took them to the base of the peak, and then began the long climb up to the top, where the Alliance sanctuary awaited. On their way they caught up to a Horde supply train struggling up the path ahead of them. There was a Horde base nestled in the rocks somewhere nearby, the supplies were probably makeing their way there. Besides a few grunts it seemed the entire caravan consisted of laborers and kodo riders.
Without breaking stride Cirrimor raced toward the back end of the train and was upon the grunt taking up rear before anyone could sound the alarm. Thendil and Stormrage came screaching down drom the sky and picked off two other grunts, lifting them off the ground and throwing them over a cliff face. An undead archer sitting on a Kodo turned to get a shot at the Druids in the air. Shia scrambled up the Kodo's back, knocked off it's driver, and tackled the undead to the ground.
Within minutes the fight was over. Every member of the caravan was dead and the druids had moved on. Shiawase looked over his shoulder at the supplies left scattered over the path. It would have been a simple matter to have avoided that fight all together, but he was in a group of old druids, Shia reminded himself. There was no pity for the enemy to them.
Their arrival at Stonetalon Peak was met with the same fanfare that had been given to Shia the last time he had visited. The Daughters of Cenarius crowded around the men, but this time they seemed more worried than excited. Stormrage gently shooed them away and went up to talk to the two elder druids who had remained to watch the Peak. When he returned he ushered the three men into the barrow just outside of the center of the botanist's opperations. The cave had been used before by hybernating druids and was well kept. A gentle light eminated from cultivated mosses, and as the elves made their way into the room were they were to begin their slumber, Shia heard the trickling of clear spring water from behind the rocks.
The hybernation room was just large enough to fit all four elves comfortably. Shiawase lay down on his bed of furs first, and began to relax for the journey. The other druids sat on their own pads.
"Simply return to the dream. We'll be able to follow you," Stormrage said.
Shiawase nodded and closed his eyes. He summoned the words of his druidic tutor, "Imagine you're in a long, warm tunnel, and at the far end you see a green light. The green light glows..."
The feeling in Shiawase's hands and feet began to leave him. He was faintly aware of losing awareness of the ground under him as his ethereal spirit walked the corridor between Azeroth and the Emerald Dream. As he came closer to the entrance, a gentle, warm breeze blew past him, and as he emerged from the tunnel the druid stepped into a scene of lush, prestine peace. The trees seemed full to bursting with healthy, deep green leaves, and the very air was permiated with the green glow of lifeforce. Unlike the Emerald Dream that Shia walked when he was mearly asleep, when the weight of the world remained as a lingering weight at the back of his mind, this time Shiawase had shed his earthly form completely, and stood in the middle of a forest like a newborn child, free of worry or heavy thought.
Cirrimor Stormrage and Thendil emerged shortly after. All four elves spent their first few minutes in the dream simple stretching and breating in the clean, sparkling air. Not a word was said amongst them. Nothing needed to be said. The dream connected them so closely that words were an unneeded luxury. The druids needed to only look at each other to understand, they were home. In what seemed like ages, they had returned home.
But as much as the embrace of the Emerald Dream filled them with joy, their purpose for returning could not be forgotten. The druids looked about themselves again, this time with scrutiny, looking for anything that might be out of place, but everything was as the remembered it. Mice and frogs ran about the trunks of the trees. The ground was covered with a thick carpet of moss that tickled their bare feet and was sweet to smell. There was nothing but pristine forest for as far as the eye could see.
Stormrage began to walk and the others followed. The could hear the burble of a stream close ahead. Sure enough, within minutes the group had come across clear running water and settled onto the moss for a sip. Shia let the sweet water it in his mouth for a moment before tipping his head and letting it trickle down his throat. Oh sweet bliss. With a contented sigh he stretched out his arms and let himself fall backwards for the moss to catch. The three other druids chuckled and followed suit. Finding the evil in this paradise could wait. First they would enjoy themselves.
Cirrimor's stomach rumbled, which led to another round of chuckling. Stormrage picked himself up from the forest floor reluctantly and became a bear. Cirrimor entered his wolf form, and Shia and Thendil both followed as panthers. As one the party lifted up their noses to the air searching for a meal. There was a giant boar grazing somewhere deeper into the forest. He would do. The missmatched pack made their way to the source of the appatizing scent they had caught, and sure enough, there was a boar, nibbling on the forest floor. Thendil lept out towards it and the boar squealed and dashed away with Thendil bounding joyfully after it. Not to be left out of the chase, the other three druids gave chase as well.
The giant boar turned out to be surprisingly fast. It -was- as big as Stormrage in his hulking bear form, and it's seemed to have put all of its muscle into it's legs. As fast as Shia ran the distance between him and the boar seemed to be growing. Stormrage too was lumbering along as fast as he could, but after an initial violent burst of speed, he had slowed down. Only Thendil and Cirrimor were keeping pace, and soon they had dissapeared into the distance, seemingly unconcerned with the struggles of their comrades. Shia was hoping that they would catch the boar soon so he could stop running and eat when a sudden violent gust of frozen wind hit him in the side. He stopped immediately and spun around, ears back and teeth bared.
Stormrage noticed that Shia had stopped and turned back to lumber to the cat. Had he not felt it, Shia wondered, but almost immediately afterwards the gust blew by again and Stormrage shook himself, stood on his hind legs and roared so loudly that the trees about him shook. From somewhere off in the distance the reply of a jaguars call sounded out. The other two were returning. The two druids looked into the forest where the gust had come from. There was nothing odd about it. It looked like the forest did in every other direction, lush, verdant, teeming with life. But none the less there was the feeling of some presence, hiding somewhere, waiting to strike.
Shia shook himself. This feeling was familar to him now, but things would be different this time. He was ready for it, and he wasn't alone. Thendil and Cirrimor arrived. All four druids made their way cautiously towards the source of the gust. As they moved forward they realized that something around them was moving. It was as if the air itself was expanding and contrasting, breathing, and reality was stretching to accommodate it. And then the warping stopped. A tropical bird of some sort cried out from the canopy.
Shiwase sniffed at the air. He could smell it, the faint whiff of disease, coming from somewhere in front of him. All four druids remained completely still as they waited for the approach of an enemy. The bird cawed out again and flew off into the air with a startled sqawlk. Someone was racing towards them. Two someones, by the sounds of their footfalls. Shia and Thendil broke off on either side of the two other druids and hid themselves in the underbrush. Something feline was coming, chased by something that seemed to shuffle and roll across the ground. Shia watched Stormrage for his move.
