Tyrande & Malfurion : Seeds of Faith Tyrande & Malfurion : Seeds of Faith is a short story in the " Leaders of the Alliance " series by Valerie Watrous briefly detailing some key events in the life of Tyrande Whisperwind , High Priestess of the Elune and ruler of the night elven capital of Darnassus . Tyrande & Malfurion : Seeds of Faith . She could have been asleep . The night elf ' s features were perfectly relaxed except for her mouth , which frowned slightly as though her dreams were not pleasant ones . Her body was intact and largely unharmed , unlike many of the others they had seen in recent days . Tyrande Whisperwind knelt by the corpse to take a closer look . There was bloody kelp in the dead woman ' s hair and she reeked of the sea and slow rot . Dead several days . She had probably been one of the first victims of the Cataclysm , swept away by the flood . No priestess of Elune could bring her back now . " Tyrande ! " The high priestess ' s head snapped up as the voice of one of her closest confidants , Merende , rang through the air . Searching the shores along Rut ' theran Village , she saw Merende comforting a younger priestess who sobbed into her white robes . Walking over , Tyrande began to understand why . The tangled body of a young night elf girl lay before them . Her sister , Merende mouthed silently , indicating the grief - stricken priestess . Tyrande nodded and motioned for them to move away . When the area was clear , she turned her gaze to the corpse . She knew right away that there was no hope — the limbs were twisted at sickening angles and the wounds had been drained bloodless — but the night elves did not abandon their dead . The body would be cleansed , the injuries hidden , and the broken joints set right , before being committed back to the earth . Tyrande crouched down and wiped the mud from the girl ' s face , whispering soft prayers for the moon goddess to guide her spirit and comfort her sister ' s grief . The grit slid away , revealing light violet skin and waves of dark blue hair . The almond - shaped eyes were still open , staring up into the clouded sky . It was a face much like one she had first seen many thousands of years ago . Tyrande shut her eyes against the oncoming tears . Shandris … if only I could hear from you … . " How far were you able to travel , Morthis ? " Malfurion Stormrage asked , handing the scout a mug of steaming hot cider . The other night elf gulped it down gratefully and suppressed a shiver . He was soaked to the skin after returning from his patrol , but comfort could wait until his findings were shared . The two druids took shelter in the uppermost room of the Cenarion Enclave . " The winds were terrible . I could only reach Maestra ' s Post , but they had received some reports from Astranaar and Feralas . " The scout settled himself on one of the wooden benches in the chamber , watching nervously as the branches of Darnassus ' s trees swayed outside . " Astranaar still stands ? " Malfurion ' s voice swelled with relief . He had been coordinating scouting patrols for days , but half of the druids couldn ' t even reach the mainland despite their best efforts . They were starved for news , and many had feared the worst . " Yes , it was spared along with Nijel ' s Point , but the settlements along the coast have been less fortunate . " " What do you mean ? " " Darkshore is unapproachable . None of the druids who have been sent there have returned , " the scout ' s voice broke with sorrow . Some of his friends were among the missing . " I had to fly all the way around to avoid getting caught in the gale winds . " " What of Feathermoon Stronghold ? " Malfurion asked . Just as he had spoken , Tyrande ' s slim frame appeared in the doorway of the room . " Feathermoon ? " Morthis glanced at the archdruid as if uncertain whether or not he should continue . " The scouts were unable to make contact with anyone there . From a distance , they saw churning seas and … naga . " His voice sunk to a whisper as he noticed Tyrande approaching them . " … Hundreds of naga . " The monstrous , serpent - like creatures had mounted attacks against Feathermoon Stronghold in the past , but a full - scale assault was unheard of . " Did they see anyone on the isle ? Any survivors ? " the high priestess asked sharply . The scout shook his head . " No one . " Tyrande ' s expression was crushing , and he felt , more than guessed at , her heartache . " But the skies were dark and it was raining heavily . I doubt the general is — " He paused , rethinking his words . " I mean , the Sentinels at Feathermoon Stronghold are most capable , High Priestess . " Tyrande sighed and placed her hand on his shoulder reassuringly . " Your courage and steadfastness have brought us this news , Morthis . Thank you for that . This is the first we have heard from the mainland since this tragedy struck . We will ask no more of you now . Please , rest . " The scout nodded and walked out in slow , tired strides . Malfurion turned to his wife . Her beautiful , nearly ageless face was stricken with worry , fear , and a trace of the immovable determination he had come to recognize over their long courtship . " There were five victims at Rut ' theran , " she said . " None whom I could save . " " Tyrande . . . " Malfurion enclosed her hands in his comfortingly . " I have to go to her , Mal . Shandris is like a daughter to me . " She paused . " Perhaps the only daughter I will ever have . " Her words stung . There had been a time when the future was limitless for the night elves , but sacrificing the World Tree Nordrassil ' s blessings had meant the end of that dream as well . The consequences of the night elves ' new mortality were still unclear , but many felt a silent dread resting upon their shoulders . The children of the stars were no longer as ageless as their name implied . " I understand , but why now ? How do you know that the stronghold ' s fate is not already decided ? " he asked , his brow furrowing in concern . " Shandris has been in my thoughts since this all began . I cannot tell you how I know , only that I am certain of it . " " You have had a vision , then ? " Malfurion knew that the moon goddess , Elune , had granted Tyrande such insights in the past . " No , not this time . Elune has been veiled of late . My feelings come from within . . . A mother knows when her child is in peril . " She paused as he looked at her skeptically . " Not all bonds are in blood , Mal . " " But ever since this tragedy struck , we have been telling our people to stay in Teldrassil — not to search for their relatives on the mainland lest they find nothing but their deaths . " " Do you believe that I go to my death , then ? " Her eyes glinted like ice . " No , " he admitted . There was no denying that the high priestess was one of Elune ' s favored and also a formidable warrior in her own right . " But I would not leave Darnassus during such dire times . I know that I have been absent too often before — it troubles me . I wish I had been there when Teldrassil was formed , when my brother met his end in Outland . . . " He sighed . " Yet I cannot change the past . I can only be here now . " " And I would have you here by my side " , he would have added , but her expression silenced him . " Illidan ' s fate was unfortunate , Mal . We were all helpless against it . His madness overwhelmed him until there was nothing left . " She could still remember how strange he had seemed , almost alien , when Sargeras had burned out his eyes thousands of years ago . " We must spend our efforts on those who can be saved … or else we shall regret our choices time and time again . " She turned and walked out , her ivory robes swirling about her like a fast - rising storm . General Shandris Feathermoon steadied herself as she balanced on the rain - slick beams of the inn roof . A dozen Sentinels were perched around her , each of them battered and bruised but nowhere near surrender . She raised her hand in a familiar signal . " Volley ! " The archers loosed their arrows toward the army of naga swarming below them . They were tired ; only half of the arrows killed their targets , including Shandris ' s , which penetrated the eye of a naga siren . She thrashed violently for a few seconds before her serpentine form disappeared in the waves , but tens of others rose to take her place . The naga were in their element in the water , and their reinforcements arrived more swiftly than Shandris and her Sentinels could kill them . " Brace yourselves , " Shandris instructed as a wall of water rose up from the churning sea . The wave crashed into the inn ' s weakening façade , drenching the general and her forces . The Sentinel on her left , Nelara , took the impact hard and slid halfway down the roof before Shandris rushed after her and caught her arm . With some effort , the general pulled her up and back onto her feet . Glancing below , she saw that the bottom level of the inn was flooding rapidly . " We have to get the survivors out and move to higher ground , " Shandris ordered . " This building could snap at any moment . Nelara , take them to the tower ! Everyone to my right , follow her . " She signaled to half of the Sentinels . " Our chances will be better there . " Nelara nodded and edged to the end of the roof before swinging onto the balcony below it . The others followed her , and Shandris winced to see the fatigue in their steps . " As for the rest of you : we are going to cause such havoc that our enemies will not even notice that the others are leaving . " Ash karath ! " " the general cried , raising her bow and firing off arrows furiously . She knew that her forces hung by a thread . Any slip in their concentration meant death for the rest . To her relief , the elves rallied . Arrows rained down into the water , sending the naga scattering and hissing in frustration . The invaders ' attacks slowed and it began to seem as though they were actually retreating . Moments later , none of them was clearly visible — just shadows beneath the waves . Shandris stole a covert glance at the rear of the inn . Most of the isle had flooded , but the Sentinels and civilians were still making good time on their way to the tower . When she returned her gaze to the sea , however , she realized where the naga had gone . Their warriors had retrieved an enormous shell large enough to shelter more than ten of them at once , and were using it as a shield against the arrows as they trudged forward . Shandris signaled for her Sentinels to cease fire . " Meet up with the others . I will handle this . " The other night elves exchanged a few incredulous glances and began moving off hesitantly . " To Nelara . Now ! " she added . Without waiting for acknowledgement , Shandris leapt down from the roof into the water below . The naga turned , rushing toward her with renewed vigor . She couldn ' t help but think of their long , twisted past . The aristocratic Highborne , led by Queen Azshara , had foolishly summoned the Burning Legion into the world and let the demons rampage until they were defeated by an army composed of night elves and other races . In the aftermath , the surviving Highborne had been cast to the bottom of the sea , where they had transformed into hideous mutations of their former selves . . . the naga . She had been young at the time , but Shandris herself had fought in the war by Tyrande ' s side . The naga had failed to reclaim the glory of their ancestors , but she hated them with a ferocity that set her teeth on edge . Still , she waited , letting them move in until the timing was right . Closing her eyes , she began to whisper an ancient prayer to Elune , each word grounded in faith and reverence , just as Tyrande had taught her long ago when she had trained as a priestess of the moon goddess . The serpents encircled the night elf general , and she heard more than one low laugh of amusement ripple among them as she finished uttering the sacred words . Elune ' s answer came swiftly . Streams of energy felled all of the naga around her even as they gaped in disbelief . When the last rattling death cry was silenced , Shandris surveyed the corpses in grim satisfaction . " Your faith was always weak , Highborne filth . " It was a risky move , but it had worked . Though Shandris had never been half as powerful as her mentor , Tyrande , she remained fond of her early days in the temple . Her training had given her powers far greater than other Sentinels could claim and a solid alternative when bows , arrows , and glaives weren ' t enough . But the prayer was draining : it could not be said without a great cost . Struggling against the waves , Shandris swam toward the shore until her feet hit the ground and then began trudging through the water toward the escaping civilians and the Sentinels . Something was wrong ; they hadn ' t gained much ground since she had last seen them . As she closed in , she saw Nelara and her companions facing off against a much larger group of myrmidons . The residents of Feathermoon ran around them , panicked and desperate for shelter — each one of them as familiar and precious to her as a piece of her heart . The researcher Quintis Jonespyre dashed ahead of the others , making for a risky opening between the Sentinels and a second group of approaching myrmidons as he headed for cover . Shandris remembered the long conversations she had shared with Quintis about Fandral Staghelm . Both of them had futilely hoped that Tyrande would formally reprimand Staghelm for his strange activities , but the high priestess had only reminded them that the Cenarion Circle operated outside of her authority . Still , Quintis had been shrewd enough to see the darkness growing within Staghelm before the others , and shrewder still to know that he would be safe from the archdruid while under Shandris ' s watch in the stronghold . But none of Quintis ' s wits could save him now . The leader of the myrmidons caught sight of the sprinting night elf and raised his weapon . Shandris called out to warn Quintis , but he looked up just as the naga ' s trident sunk into his back . He stared at her in helpless uncertainty and then fell , his blood darkening the water until it slowly faded into the sea . The light of dawn was masked by the stormy skies , but the citizens of Darnassus still found themselves retiring to their chambers at the usual hour . Perhaps for some , it was a means of solace — a familiar routine in the turbulent wake of disaster . For others , it was an excuse for time alone to dwell on their grief . For Tyrande , it was a chance to escape . The high priestess took a quick look around , then stole out of the temple , making for a quiet path that ran behind the prominent structures in Darnassus . It was an inefficient route ; however , she was anxious to remain unseen this evening . Rounding another corner , she reached the humble lodgings that she shared with her husband . Tyrande opened the door , and a beam of light yawned across the dark floorboards . The rooms were deserted . She surmised that Malfurion was still at the enclave , and began to pack for the perilous journey ahead . It didn ' t take long for Tyrande to exchange her temple robes for her plate armor , which resembled that of a Sentinel . She retained only her simple crescent moon circlet as a symbol of her station . Shifting through a large trunk , Tyrande removed her bow and quiver , then lifted out her beautifully crafted moonglaive . The dim light rippled over the weapon ' s three blades as she untied its coverings , and she could sense that all of the blessings it had received were as strong as ever . If Morthis ' s reports were correct , she would need them — along with every possible advantage — in order to succeed . Tyrande was turning to leave when a familiar object caught her eye . A large potted plant sat on the shelf in front of her , its heart - shaped leaves curling along graceful branches . It was known as the " alor ' el " , or " lover ' s leaf , " and though they had been common thousands of years ago , the plants were gradually dying out across Kalimdor . Somehow Shandris had procured one and bestowed it upon Tyrande and Malfurion on their wedding day . Smiling slyly , Tyrande ' s adopted daughter had been only too happy to tell all of the guests that , according to an ancient but completely unfounded kaldorei legend , the alor ' el would only bloom for a couple who shared a perfect love . Naturally , she was confident that Malfurion and his wife would be the ideal candidates to test the legend ' s veracity . The other guests had cheered and toasted them , proclaiming their good faith , but the plant had yet to yield as much as a bud . Still , it was the kind of gift that only Shandris could give . And Tyrande hoped it would not be her last . " I will not let you die here today . I swear it . " Shandris tightened her grip on Vestia Moonspear ' s wrist , but the priestess only wept harder . " Latro — he fell behind ! Oh , Elune , watch over him . He is gone ; he is gone … . " Her sobs increased , and Shandris noticed the few remaining refugees rustling nervously . Each of them fought back the same tide of emotion as they struggled to leave the war - torn isle . " Your husband would want you to go on , Vestia . You must do this for him . For everyone who gave their lives here today . Please . " Shandris gazed imploringly at the reluctant night elf . She could feel the tree tower shifting beneath her feet as its roots weakened ; they didn ' t have much time left . To her great relief , Vestia contained her sobs and allowed Shandris to guide her onto the hippogryph . The bird - like creature ' s navy plumage was nearly black from the rain , but his eyes remained bright and alert . " Take her to the mainland . Be careful of the winds , " Shandris warned , feeling grateful for the hippogryph ' s considerable intelligence . No ordinary bird could fly in such turbulent weather , but the noble creature before her stood a chance . Vestia and the hippogryph disappeared into the filmy clouds , and Nelara came running up the ramp . " General ! They need you below : the naga are trying to break down the tower ! " " Get the rest of the survivors to the mainland , Nelara . There are enough hippogryphs for you and most of the Sentinels . Request aid from Thalanaar as soon as possible . " Nelara rounded on her in surprise . " I am not leaving here . Even you cannot defeat all of the naga without aid — " " You have done your duty , Sentinel , " Shandris responded stiffly . " Your orders are to retreat . " " You will not reconsider , will you … ? " Nelara lowered her head , and Shandris thought she saw a tear mingle with the raindrops sliding down her cheek . " Someone once saved my life when I thought everything was lost , " the general said slowly . " It would be my greatest honor to give that gift to another . " She began heading down the ramp , toward the sounds of the battle . " " Ande ' thoras - ethil " , Nelara . " " I will send a hippogryph back for you once we arrive ! " she cried . " Wait at the top of the tower ! " It was hard for Shandris not to tell the younger Sentinel that the plan was impossible , but after a moment she heard Nelara call for the remaining hippogryphs and decided to leave her alone . With her final orders in motion , Shandris dove into the chaotic battle that raged at the base of the tower . The narrow building was a natural chokepoint , and so far only a handful of Sentinels had successfully defended the structure from within by barricading part of the entryway and firing arrows at the naga who attacked from the other side . Shandris took up her bow and began shooting with a steady , practiced rhythm . " You are relieved , Sentinels . Head to the topmost chamber ; there are hippogryphs waiting for you . " The other night elves were too tired and wounded to question her orders . It pained Shandris to see that a few of their number had fallen and their corpses lay stiffening on the ground . One by one , the surviving elves filed out , leaving thin trails of blood in their footsteps . But seeing each of them depart filled Shandris with a newfound strength . Her arrows were buying lives now : every dead naga meant a few more seconds of peace for the fleeing residents of Feathermoon Stronghold . But she knew that the tower ' s defenses couldn ' t last long . The naga ' s attacks were steadily breaking the barricade , and a flash of light appeared as a siren cast a spell in Shandris ' s direction . The general uttered a kaldorei oath and shielded her face as the barrier splintered , the fractured wood sending shards across the room . When she lowered her arm , the siren stood before her , flanked by a pair of imposing myrmidons . Her fine regalia , a sign of rank , sparkled in the low light . More and more naga massed behind them . " You must be the general . I serve the lady Szenastra , " she intoned . " Such a pleasure . " Shandris tightened her grip on the bow . " We shall see . " The naga commander examined her archly . For all of the scales and spines , her mannerisms were such a perfect imitation of Highborne condescension that they made the general ' s blood run cold . " This does not have to continue , you know . My lady has authorized me to offer you the terms of our peace . " " How overwhelmingly generous of her . What does she want , then ? " " Give us the head of your mistress , the false queen , Tyrande . " Shandris fired an arrow into the naga ' s sycophantic smile . The creature convulsed , grasping for her throat , but her screams only emerged as sprays of blood . Choking , she sank to the ground . Shandris eyed the guards coldly . " Take that to your lady . " A second later , they were upon her . Shandris lashed out with her glaive , dispatching the first two myrmidons easily , but a trident struck her arm and knocked the weapon out of reach . Another blade buried itself deep into her side , tearing her breath away as she staggered back . The naga were everywhere , striking furiously , and there was only one defense she had left . Shandris called to Elune and forced the last reserve of her strength into the prayer , though it flickered and died within her like a guttered candle . " Faith is the beginning of all things . " That was the first lesson she had learned and memorized as a Sister of Elune . Tyrande recalled High Priestess Dejahna ' s severity as she examined the girls , quick to weed out any half - hearted pupils who had simply joined the Sisters because of their lack of magical aptitude . " If your skill with the arcane is passable , but not strong , you may still become a sorceress . If your skill with a needle and thread is passable , but not strong , you may still become a seamstress . But if your faith is only passable and not strong , you will never become a priestess . " It was strange how clearly the words came back to her as she struggled to stay on the hippogryph . The winds were against them and the rain plastered her cerulean hair to her shoulders , but part of her mind was still in the old Temple of Elune in Suramar , where Dejahna ' s sharp eyes had gazed on her skeptically . " Why have you chosen this path , Tyrande Whisperwind ? " " Because , " she had said , " I want to protect others . Especially the ones I love . " The high priestess had regarded her for a long moment afterward , and Tyrande never knew exactly what Dejahna had thought about that exchange , but she had long suspected that somehow the seed for her nomination as successor had been planted in that brief , earnest sentence . There had been many times when she had questioned her predecessor ' s decision to appoint her as high priestess . How different would her life have been without the burden of leadership ? Would she have needed to slay the Watchers to secure Illidan ' s aid against the Burning Legion ? Would she have been forced to wait for thousands of years to finally wed her beloved ? Would her people have suffered less during the War of the Ancients if their ruler had been more experienced ? Dejahna had been right : faith was her only guide . Now it drove her through a relentless storm to rescue the most capable general she had ever known from a danger that was vague but unavoidable in her mind . And she was alone . None of her words had moved Malfurion , even though she was certain of them . . . It seemed that faith was a rare gift indeed . The hippogryph squawked , and Tyrande peered over his antlered head . Feralas lay before them , and Sardor Isle was barely visible through a wall of fog . Somewhere beneath it , Shandris was waiting . Tyrande had to believe that she was still alive . She tapped the hippogryph ' s neck , indicating that he should land to the south . It was easier to communicate through touch in the driving wind , and the creatures always understood the code . The hippogryph surged forward in response and spread his wings wide in an attempt to buffer the turbulence . Despite his efforts , the gale toyed with them , nearly sending the pair into the thrashing sea below . Tyrande slid to the far right edge of the saddle , hoping that the shift of weight would help the hippogryph correct himself . For a moment they hung like a leaf in the wind , and then the creature dropped sideways and swiftly banked toward the shore . Tyrande clung to him fiercely . " Well , that was foolhardy , but effective . " The hippogryph puffed up his feathers proudly as he landed on a patch of dry ground just outside of Feathermoon Stronghold . " I suppose that is why we are in this together . Stay close , " she said , dismounting from him and treading cautiously toward the settlement . Morthis hadn ' t lied . Feathermoon was in shambles , its structures crumbling and flooded . The naga were everywhere , rifling through the wreckage and patrolling the coast as if they expected reinforcements at any moment . Somehow in the rain and wind , they had missed her approach from the south . Or perhaps one lone night elf had not been a cause for concern . It crossed her mind that Shandris could have escaped from the isle before the invasion , but she would not be content until she had completed a thorough search . Her fear for Shandris gnawed at her , turning her thoughts back to the dead girl on the Rut ' theran shore . Tyrande pressed on , edging toward the nearest building and keeping an eye on the patrols as she went . She didn ' t mind the prospect of combat , but her mission would go more quickly without any unnecessary engagements . The floorboards creaked beneath her feet and water streamed down from cracks in the roof as she entered the battered shelter . Scanning the area , Tyrande spotted a patch of lavender near one of the bookshelves — the tip of an ear ? She ran forward , hoping that she was not too late . The bookshelf was wedged in a corner , and it took a sharp kick to move it , but the high priestess managed to shove it aside and find the body below . Reaching down , she lifted the night elf up out of the muddy water that had filled the structure . She recognized his long braided hair quickly . Latronicus Moonspear , one of the foremost fighters against the naga in Feathermoon Stronghold . Now he rested in the arms of Elune . She closed his eyes and murmured the prayer for the dead . The words had become all too familiar on her lips in the past few days . The rest of the room yielded only the body of another slain Sentinel , almost certainly killed by the naga , and dozens of abandoned supplies that had been ruined in the flooding . As she left , a party of naga scouts rounded the corner and saw her . The high priestess extended her arms and uttered a few words , sending beams of moonlight down upon her enemies before they could attack . The naga collapsed under her assault and she ran for the inn , searching beneath the water for any tracks — any signs of battle that could lead her to Shandris and the other survivors — but the floods had churned the earth into mud . A shadow passed over her head , and Tyrande raised her glaive in alarm . An enormous bird circled in the sky above her . She paused , watching the creature in disbelief . It dove into a steep descent , and she began to recognize the dark plumage and the certain spark that lit the storm crow ' s eyes . The bird landed and , in a matter of seconds , shifted into the familiar figure of her beloved . " I am sorry for making you wait . " He smiled . " Mal … " She embraced him . " You came after all . " " We fight as one now . Our friend Broll Bearmantle has taken my place organizing the druid scouts , and Merende tends to your duties in Darnassus . " " Thank you , my love . Feathermoon Stronghold is in dire need of our aid . I have not been able to find any survivors , and it is impossible to track them in this flood . " He nodded . " Perhaps I can help with that . " The archdruid closed his eyes in meditation and reached out in front of himself , stretching his palms over the devastated land . Gusts of wind gathered around Malfurion as he drew them together in a massive cyclone . The murky waters began to ripple and recede as the fierce vortex drove them back into the sea . Then only the broken landscape of Sardor Isle lay before them , revealing a trail of corpses that led to the giant tree tower to the northeast . But the spell had also alerted the naga . They came in from all sides , eager to investigate the cause of the receding water . When they saw the night elves , the serpentine creatures cried out in alarm , drawing in more of their troops . They were readying an attack . A naga sorceress , Lady Szenastra , appeared in the center of the growing group . Judging by the deference that the lady commanded from her subjects , Tyrande could tell that she was the leader of this army . " Sardor Isle is ours now . You have come to your death , ' Your Majesty , ' " Szenastra sneered . " I am no queen , " Tyrande snapped . " And I would sooner die than take that title . What have you done with the kaldorei who have made their homes here ? " " Your people sleep eternally now . Do you not see them ? " Szenastra gestured to the corpses idly . " You may join them now , if you wish . My lady Szallah would find it most agreeable if you would be obliging . If not , I shall have to see to you myself . " She signaled , and a cadre of myrmidons slithered forward . Tyrande and Malfurion exchanged a look . " How easily these fools forget defeat , " the high priestess muttered through clenched teeth . " We must give them a reminder , then , " Malfurion said . Tyrande gave a quick nod . Lightning crackled through the air as the archdruid began to craft his spell . The clouds above the isle blackened even further , and the naga ' s heads shot up in alarm . Szenastra hissed out an order , and the naga army advanced on the pair of night elves . Malfurion watched , unperturbed , waiting for the energies to coalesce . When the storm was fully formed , he slowly tilted his antlered head to the sky , and the heavens poured their wrath down upon the naga forces . Lightning shot to the earth — each bolt splitting into forks that seared through dozens of hapless myrmidons . As the troops dispersed in chaos , Tyrande began closing in on the sorceress . Lady Szenastra was already trying to escape , but the high priestess unleashed a massive column of moonfire above her . The naga convulsed for a moment while the energy blazed through her , then she slammed to the ground , her glittering adornments swallowed by the mud . Tyrande pressed on to the tower . The entrance was blocked by rubble , as though it had been sealed from the inside . Undaunted , she managed to clear away an opening with a few furious strikes from her glaive . Inside the room , Shandris Feathermoon lay in a pool of blood that glistened across the floorboards . A sob caught in Tyrande ' s throat as she rushed to the wounded elf ' s side . She fell to her knees and began to pray , scarcely able to form the words in her grief . " Elune , grant me this , if nothing else . Spare her ; please … she is my daughter . She believes that I saved her , but it is she who has saved me … again and again . My life would be empty without her in it . " Tears streamed down her cheeks , glittering like the trails of stars . Malfurion ran up behind her , but she was too distraught to notice his presence until his hand had grasped hers . The simple gesture anchored her and , beneath it all , she could feel him add his power to hers as they tried to heal Shandris . They watched her for a long moment , barely breathing . Then Shandris ' s eyelashes fluttered and she opened her eyes drowsily . Rolling her head slightly to the side , she tried to focus on the shapes hovering before her - shapes of people she knew . " " Min ' da ? An ' da ? " " she asked blearily , her brow knitted in confusion . Tyrande had no words . Her tears dripped to the floor , further darkening the stained wood . She placed her hand on Shandris ' s shoulder and took a long breath . " Your parents still rest with Elune , Shandris . But you do not , thanks to Mal ' s aid . " " Tyrande knew you were in danger all along . She could think of nothing else , " Malfurion added . Shandris regarded them . " Well , perhaps I was not too far off the mark . " She laughed , then winced in pain . " I - it … seems Elune has answered my prayers in the end . " Tyrande raised her eyes to Malfurion . " I believe she has answered all of ours . " Shandris woke to the strains of an ancient funeral hymn . Sitting up carefully , she gazed at the nearby window that looked out on central Darnassus . The familiar waterways were aglow with candles , each of the small round lights floating along the glassy surface like a wisp in the forest . Malfurion and Tyrande stood solemnly in the center of the proceedings as the people of Darnassus and the refugees from Kalimdor gathered around them . Many of the night elves ' faces were swollen and flushed from crying . Some looked as though they hadn ' t slept for days . Shandris knew their grief too well . Searching the crowd , she even saw Vestia standing alone at the edge of the gathering . They had lost so many . Nearly everyone had known someone who had perished in the past few weeks of turmoil . Funeral biers began to roll in on wagons pulled by pairs of nightsabers who strained against the weight of the bodies . Tyrande stepped forward to bless the dead one final time before their interment . There was no sound save for the priestesses ' hauntingly forlorn melody . It hurt to watch , but healing could not come without first releasing the grief . Shandris knew that their people needed this time before they could face the challenges that lay ahead . She looked again to Malfurion and Tyrande , who stood together against the tide of pain and loss . Far above them , the clouds began to shift , and a thin sliver of moonlight illuminated their features . " Elune knows her own , " Shandris thought . " We are not alone in this fight . " Reassured , she rose and limped across the room to take a dose of the soothing medicinal roots Malfurion had left for her . The large " alor ' el " plant , her wedding gift to the happy couple , had grown tremendously since she had last seen it , and one of its tendrils tumbled down over the edge of the shelf . With a cry of joy , she noticed it was covered with buds on the verge of blooming .