The Awakening

*Several weeks ago, as the Siege of Orgrimmar begins to unfold in Durotar.*

It is said that when a person passes from life, the Light comes to claim them. It surrounds their spirit, embracing them in its brilliance and lifting it up and away. The spirit becomes one with the Light, with the very force of life that populates the universe. It is like a dream, a heaven that cannot be described by mortal words.

Just as the finality of life is met with this brilliance, so too is the time between that moment and true death met with a darkness, a loss of consciousness into which the spirit is plunged. Confused, bereft of that blessed moment and of the senses of life, it is a soup of conflicting emotions and glimpses of one's life. A haze of emotion and fear, it is blessedly short lived for most.

For some though, this moment is extended indefinitely. Lost in the mire of darkness, they struggle on, waiting for death to claim them and fearing it all the same. Assaulted by emotions and images of life, they fight against the currents, floundering without guidance. It was in this place that her spirit resided, awaiting the end of all things.

If there was one overriding thing about Devasha, it was her struggle for survival. If she had wished to idly sit and accept death, she would have allowed her beloved and her children to cut her down long ago on Argus. She would not have begun a journey that would span millennium, always seeking sanctuary against the encroaching darkness of the universe. Surrounded by a piece of that darkness, Devasha struggled on, images her life and its jagged pieces cutting her again and again.

She saw Argus, she relived the moments there, both happy and terrible. She saw Draenor. She relived her people starting anew, relived all of the moments between the two points in the terrible, wonderful journey that her life had been. Darkness threatened to choke her as she remembered the horrors that she'd seen, and yet that darkness was quickly driven back by points of light as the precious moments of happiness glowed brightly in her mind's eye.

More and more quickly the images assaulted her thoughts, each demanding her attention until she was surrounded in a cacophony of thunderous sound, the moments clashing together in an unintelligible hymn that made up her life, that made up Devasha.

In that moment, when she could stand no more, she opened her mouth and shouted at it all, “Enough! ENOUGH!”

Silence reigned, sweet, blessed silence. In that silence, Devasha willed her eyes to open, and light flowed into her. It was not THE Light, but rather ordinary, everyday light provided by crystals that were illuminating the space in which she was laying. So bright was the light to her unused eyes that it took a moment for her to even make out the vague objects a few inches from her. After a time, she came to realize it was a crystal screen that was over her; the tell-tale construction of a pod from the Exodar.

She blinked a few times, the echoes of her shout still ringing in her mind as she tried to process what she was seeing. The partially see-through crystal screen glowed with magic, symbols flashing on it as it evaluated what was beneath it. She vaguely came to realize that she was looking at a med-pod, and the fact that she was beneath it meant she had been injured. The thought was followed by wry amusement as she realized the flashing red symbols that were on the exterior of the screen probably boded poorly for her.

Her consideration of this fact was interrupted by the sound of hooves pounding on metal as someone approached the pod in which she lay. A moment later a figure peered over the edge of the pod, looking down at her in alarm. Although Devasha could barely make her out, it was clearly a priestess of her people, the look on her face making the still groggy mage believe that perhaps something amazing had happened. Quickly the priestess pressed some arcane symbols on the pod's screen and the entire assembly powered down, sliding out of the way. Blue hands reached into the pod and pressed against Devasha's shoulders, sending a flood of the Light into her.

She sighed happily, feeling the healing warmth as it eased the pains that she had not been aware she'd had until that moment. It also cleared the haze from her eyes, allowing her to see more clearly. She blinked a few times, looking up at the smiling face of the priestess leaning over her.

“Thank the Light! It's a miracle!” the priestess exclaimed, her hands coming together happily. “We did not believe you would recover.”

Devasha opened her mouth to speak, a croaking sound coming out before she was able to finally articulate some words, “W-what...happened? I...I remember being on the Exodar. Something...the engines failed! I remember there was an explosion. We were falling, falling so fast. I...I think I used some magic...my wards to protect us. After that...there is only blackness.”

The priestess nodded grimly, reaching out to rest a hand on Devasha's arm, “First, tell me. Do you remember your name?”

Devasha blinked in surprise at the question, frowning as she answered, “I am Devasha. But...how could you not know this?”

The priestess shook her head, frowning, “I am Laayna. I am pleased to finally speak to you Devasha, it has been far too long. I fear that the portion of the Exodar where you were was heavily damaged during the crash. I am sorry.”

She had not answered, but she didn't need to say it. Devasha's intellect provided the unfortunate answer that she didn't want to say aloud. There were no other survivors. All of her apprentices had perished. They had not known her name because there was no one left alive who could identify her.

Her mind changed tracks quickly. She looked up at the priestess, fear suddenly gripping her and plain to hear in her voice, “How long, Laayna? How long?”

The priestess sighed, shaking her head again, “Years, Devasha. Not so many years that we have changed as a people, but enough that you have missed momentous events.”

Devasha took a moment to process this, coming to terms with it. She'd been injured. She'd lain in a coma for Light knew how long, while her people struggled on without her. Worse, she had lain here as a burden to them, an unknown survivor who they did not know would ever awaken.

To Devasha, the universe was a simple place; a group lived or died based on their ability to anticipate the next disaster. The survivors were only as strong as their weakest link, their weakest members. She had spent countless years keeping herself and those around her prepared for the worst eventuality, and now she'd failed in that mission. She could lay idle no longer, for she had already risked everything with her weakness. The Legion could have come upon them while she slumbered, could have destroyed her people without her lifting a finger, or worse, could have taken her while she was powerless to flee.

She steeled herself, sitting up abruptly. As she rose up, the world spun around her crazily, and she was forced to grip the edges of the med-pod tightly to avoid falling over. She took a deep breath, fighting off the nausea that her tilting vision brought her.

“Devasha, you should not be trying to rise yet,” Laayna scolded gently. “We have infused your form with the Light while you lay here and your muscles will work, but they and everything else will be weak. You must give yourself time to recover.”

Devasha closed her eyes, letting the spinning room settle for a moment before she took a deep breath and opened them. It had mostly stopped now. Good enough.

“No, I have lain here long enough. There is much to be done. If you would though...can I please have some tea and something to eat. I feel famished,” she said, her mouth set.

The priestess studied her for a moment, coming to understand her resolve on the matter. After a moment she nodded, patting one of Devasha's knees and rising, “As you wish, Devasha. Rest a moment and I will return. I shall send a Vindicator to you to brief you on what has happened while you have lain here.”

With that she rose and walked away, the clatter of her hooves on the metal floor fading and leaving Devasha sitting in silence. She drew in another breath, feeling the fire that burned in every muscle in her body. She would recover and she would learn of the circumstances she found her people in before deciding her next course of action.

Minutes later the sound of someone approaching could be heard, and Devasha smiled as she turned to see an armored Vindicator walking towards her, the familiar look of his plate armor almost comforting as she realized she had not lain idle without champions watching over her. In his hand he carried a tray with a teapot, a cup, and some muffins on it. He smiled at her, setting it down on a small table beside the pod and pouring her a cup before sitting on the edge of a neighboring pod.

As Devasha drank her first hot beverage in years, she listened to the tales the Vindicator told. She learned of the triumphs and defeats of her people. Of their journey back to the world they'd been forced to flee beside new allies. Of a horrible King of death in some frozen north that had threatened the world, and of a dragon that had almost laid waste to a planet.

As she listened on, hearing the horrible tales of orcs acting as she knew they could not help but act, there was one thought that formed in her mind. As she heard the tales of mighty heroes who had stood beside her people and fought back the darkness time and again, she began to smile, coming to understand that it was here that her people had finally made their first stand. That for the first time, darkness had been sent reeling back by the righteous blows of those who would not stand for it.

In her awakening, Devasha felt the seeds of hope blossom within her for the first time in what seemed like forever.