Have you come to love the agony? Is it so much a part of you that you cannot tell it from yourself?

Malfurion did not respond. There was no point in responding.

Doing so only served his captor.

Keeping counsel with your own thoughts, Malfurion Stormrage? The skeletal tendrils of the shadow tree wrapped around the imprisoned archdruid. Shall we discuss those thoughts

…those dreams…those hopes?

Despite himself, the night elf could not help but be jarred by the last. Did the foul thing know?

Let us share some considerations…let us share some ambitions…

The archdruid buried his thoughts as deep as possible. His plan was near to fruition. There was a chance…

The Nightmare Lord laughed in his head. And, most of all, Malfurion Stormrage, let us talk of foolish dreams of rescue…

The druids were exhausted. They had spent themselves so much that several would not likely be of help for any further casting for days. Their combined might had fed and fed Teldrassil, but with no visible success…at least so far as Hamuul could tell.

As for the tauren himself, he had become a pariah to most of the others, although officially there had been no censure, no condemnation by Archdruid Fandral concerning whatever Broll had done. Fandral had not even informed Hamuul just what the missing druid had done. He had merely eyed the tauren disapprovingly, doing so long enough that the others understood that Hamuul had lost favor.

Naralex and a few others defied the shunning, but Hamuul did his best to steer clear of them out of concern that they, too, would suffer. The aged tauren was willing to shoulder his responsibility in enabling Broll to go unnoticed long enough. He trusted his friend.

Fandral had a right to be angered, though.

The lead archdruid had insisted on keeping them at Teldrassil’s base, far from Darnassus. Only he had thus far returned to the city.

Each time he returned, Fandral pressed the druids in some new fashion. He assured them that they were making progress, that the World Tree was healing.

Hamuul had to assume that he was not an adept-enough archdruid to sense what Fandral did.

The tauren sat cross-legged a bit distant from the rest. The druids were meditating, trying to regain their strength for Fandral’s next spell. Hamuul had never felt so drained in all his life, not even during the weeklong hunt that had been part of his rite of passage from child to adult. That had required fasting during the entire trial.

I am getting old…was his first thought. Yet none of the night elves appeared any stronger than him. Thus far it seemed that the lead archdruid’s plans had done little more than bring every member to the brink of ruin.

Thinking again of Fandral, Hamuul looked for him. However, the other was nowhere to be found. The tauren could only suppose that Fandral had perhaps again returned to the Cenarion Enclave to consult some ancient text. Hamuul hoped that it would provide them with more tangible results than they had achieved thus far.

Finding himself unable to meditate, the tauren rose. Seeing that none of the others paid him any mind, he strode toward the World Tree.

Even though Hamuul had not been one of those in favor of a second such giant, he could not only appreciate the majesty of it, but also Teldrassil’s effect on the world. As a tauren, Hamuul very much believed in the balance between nature and the lives of the various races of Azeroth. That had been why he had sought out Malfurion Stormrage in the first place and asked to be instructed in the druidic arts. And even though Hamuul had only been a druid for a few years, he believed that he had proven himself well.

Otherwise, he would not have risen to become one of the few archdruids and the only one of his kind.

The tauren wished there was more he could do beyond what he had done for Broll. He still felt that Broll’s choice was somehow the right one, despite how it crossed Fandral’s good purposes.

Standing just before Teldrassil, he looked up into the clouds where Darnassus lay. If the portal had been very near, Hamuul might have been tempted to just walk through it. As it was, his only other choice was to fly…

With a grunt, he leaned with one hand against Teldrassil. There was more he needed to do. If BrollSomeone was whispering.

Hamuul stepped from the tree and looked for the speaker.

However, the whispering immediately ceased.

His thick brow wrinkling in thought, the archdruid neared the trunk once more.

The whispering started up again. Hamuul stared at Teldrassil

…then looked down at his foot. There, the side of his right foot touched one of the World Tree’s roots.

He placed his hand on the trunk.

The whispering filled his head. Hamuul could not understand it. It was not any of the tongues spoken by the intelligent races of Azeroth. Rather, it reminded him of something else, something the tauren should know well —

“Shakuun, guide my spear…” he murmured, blurting a tauren oath. Shakuun had been his father’s father, and tauren called upon their venerated ancestors, who watched over them. The oath as he spoke it was not to be taken literally; Hamuul was asking his grandsire to help him come to grips with what he had discovered.

The archdruid was listening to the voice of Teldrassil.

All druids knew the language of the trees, although some understood it better than others. This was not the first time that Hamuul had touched and listened to the World Tree, but this was the first time he had heard these whispers. The voice of the World Tree was usually heard more in the rustle of its branches and leaves and through the coursing of the sap that flowed as blood up and down the vast trunk. It could be heard as a whisper, but one with understanding.

But Hamuul could make no sense out of what he heard now. The whispers were without proper rhythm, without form. As the archdruid continued to listen, they went on and on as if —

“What is it you do, Hamuul Runetotem?” Fandral’s voice suddenly said.

Smothering his startlement, the tauren turned to the lead archdruid. He had not sensed the night elf approach, which said something for Hamuul’s present state of mind. As a tauren, he prided himself on his belief that his people were the only ones who could truly sneak up on one of Fandral’s race.

Hamuul chose to be honest. This was something Fandral of all druids should know.

But how to explain it best? “I fear…Archdruid Fandral, will you listen to Teldrassil for a moment? I fear that things are worse than we thought! When I touched my hand to the trunk just now—”

The night elf did not wait for him to finish. Fandral placed his palm flat against Teldrassil. He shut his eyes and concentrated.

A few breaths later, the lead archdruid looked at the tauren. “I sense nothing different than before. Teldrassil is not yet well, but there is improvement.”

“‘Improvement’?” Hamuul could not prevent himself from gaping.

“Archdruid, I sensed—”

Fandral, his expression sympathetic, interjected, “You are weary, Hamuul, and I have been remiss in my treatment of you. You have a loyalty to a friend who must answer for his recklessness, I fear. It was beneath me, though, to show such disappointment with you when he is to blame.”

“I—”

Fandral raised a hand. “Hear me out, good Hamuul. I have just returned with some knowledge of interest. It will make for a new and stronger attempt to cure what still ails Teldrassil. You, with your strong spirit, would be of tremendous value in that effort, but you need to recoup your strength more. If you fear that there is something more amiss with the World Tree, then this is surely good news to you.”