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Paragons by Blizzard Entertainment

Author:Blizzard Entertainment

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: Pocket Star

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Paragons by Blizzard Entertainment

PROPHET’S LESSON

Marc Hutcheson

The Seat of the Naaru’s soaring energies inspired inner peace in the most bloodthirsty of warrior pilgrims, awe in even the most jaded of Azeroth’s inhabitants. The figure floating before the Seat had long taken comfort from this column of Light. Velen looked out from his meditation chamber, seeking insight . . . in all the connections, great and small, where he might perceive the lines of the future. For the past several months, those lines had increasingly felt fragmented.

 

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Paragons by Blizzard Entertainment

Author:Blizzard Entertainment , Date: July 7, 2019

,Views: 17

Author:Blizzard Entertainment

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: Pocket Star
PROPHET’S LESSON

Marc Hutcheson

The Seat of the Naaru’s soaring energies inspired inner peace in the most bloodthirsty of warrior pilgrims, awe in even the most jaded of Azeroth’s inhabitants. The figure floating before the Seat had long taken comfort from this column of Light. Velen looked out from his meditation chamber, seeking insight . . . in all the connections, great and small, where he might perceive the lines of the future. For the past several months, those lines had increasingly felt fragmented.

As the Prophet of the draenei meditated—his legs crossed beneath him, his hands resting on his ancient knees—the crystals that reflected his energies glowed and pulsed and swirled around him, not in patterns but in chaos. And the visions, the endless possibilities of tomorrows, assaulted him.

A weary, bedraggled gnome pulled a strange contraption through the dusts of Outland, leaving twin ruts that snaked endlessly in the dunes behind her. Ethereals, their energies wrapped in cloth, simply watched her struggle, neither helping nor impeding the gnome’s hard-fought progress.

Vindicator Maraad battled an unseen foe with his gargantuan crystalline hammer and then fell to his knees, a lance of blackest darkness thrust through his chest, oily, diseased smoke trailing the weapon’s edge.

The sky-filling, armored form of Deathwing flew across a burned world and landed on a charred, broken tree so vast it could only be Nordrassil, while supplicants draped in dark-purple robes lined up and threw themselves into a volcanic crack in the earth.

Med’an—the Guardian of Tirisfal—wept, the tears out of place on his orc-tinged features, his eyes so vulnerable and hurt that the sight of them would have broken the heart of any other.

But not of Velen.

The Prophet had long ago learned detachment from his visions lest they drive him mad. The third eye of prophecy had been with him so long that having premonitions was like breathing. The ata’mal crystal shards had transformed him into a sentinel of alternate universes without end, sometimes down to their very eclipses in darkness, or ice, or fire. Velen didn’t sorrow for these futures or mourn their extinctions or shout in exultation at their triumphs. He merely read them, watched their woven tapestries, looking for the roads that led to ultimate triumph, where life and the Light battled back the dark and saved everything from annihilation. What mattered the minor events prized by most mortals—even his own draenei—measured against the awesome responsibility of ensuring the survival of creation?

Velen searched among the debris of the rapidly moving images, trying to seize onto something, find a marker for the path. But it eluded him.

• • •

Anduin Wrynn kneeled in the soft earth, his hands resting on a lasher, one of the few remaining mutations resulting from the Exodar’s crash on Azeroth. Two draenei flanked the creature, restraining it for the prince, their gentle might keeping it from wriggling free and fleeing the channeled Light in the young boy’s hands. The draenei had once made it their mission to mend the damage their destructive appearance in the

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