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(A/N: Chapter 126 will soon be on Patreon!)
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Each kingdom had a high-level spatial array system that could be used in emergencies or whenever they needed to quickly teleport to designated marked zones for safe, instantaneous transport.
Unfortunately, these arrays could only be created or operated by either a team of highly skilled magi or an Archmage skilled in spatial manipulation. Not to mention, they could only teleport a hundred or so people at most.
During the war, the rampant corrupted Warp energies had severely compromised the arrays' accuracy, especially over longer distances.
Alastor actually planned to have the array systems inspected and potentially modernized, since the ones currently in use were based on models created during Thoradin's time.
Yes, the current array models were apparently 2,800 years old, which left Alastor unsure whether to be more shocked and horrified that they had not been improved upon or further researched for so long.
Or be impressed by the fact that the magi from Thoradin's era, despite only just beginning to develop their magic system, had been capable of creating such an advanced array without having access to the modern era's extensive libraries of magical knowledge and research.
Alastor did not hesitate to exercise his new authority as King by ordering the use of Kul Tiras' Grand Teleportation Array for an instantaneous transfer back to Stormwind City.
As Alastor walked toward the portal chamber, he was accompanied by Rhonin—not because Alastor had asked him to come, but because Rhonin himself followed, knowing that Alastor was not in the right state of mind after what he'd heard.
Thus, Rhonin wordlessly decided to accompany him, both as protection and, more importantly, as emotional support if the situation turned out to be as bad as they feared.
It was a testament to how serious the matter was that, after hearing the news from the guard, Alastor did not stop to gather anyone else. Instead, he immediately made his way toward the portal chamber in Kul Tiras' central mage tower.
He did not even call for anyone else to accompany him—not even his lovers.
Rhonin himself kept silent as he followed, but he recognized the severity of the situation from the expression on Alastor's face.
He sighed and stayed close, knowing that right now, his presence was probably the best thing he could offer his best friend.
After reaching the mage tower, Alastor did not hesitate to enter the portal chamber. Without waiting for the Royal Mage Corps to begin the activation process, Alastor used his own magic to connect with the array as it glowed with arcane energy.
With a thought, Alastor sent a pulse of magic and connected to the spatial array in Stormwind City. When the mages there accepted the connection, an arcane portal swirled open within the chamber.
Alastor entered it along with Rhonin, and after a brief feeling of weightlessness, the two emerged within the portal chamber of Stormwind's central mage tower near Stormwind Castle.
Standing before them was the Royal Mage Corps of Stormwind, led by Frederick, the Chief Royal Mage of Stormwind.
"Y... Your Majesty!?"
Frederick was surprised to see his prince—well, former prince now.
Frederick, along with the rest of Stormwind, had received news of Alastor's coronation as the King of Azeroth, a development that was further confirmed when Varian and Anduin returned to Stormwind the previous day.
Suffice to say, the people of Stormwind were ecstatic.
Their prince was already very much beloved, and knowing that he was now the one who would lead their entire world had many of them looking toward the future with great optimism.
Frederick bowed while the rest of the Royal Mages fell to their knees in deference.
"Frederick, where's Varian?" Alastor gave him a nod of acknowledgment before immediately asking why he was here.
Understanding dawned on Frederick, and he quickly explained as the rest of the magi rose back to their feet.
"Oh! Your Majesty, your royal brother is at the lower levels of the castle basement, in the secure chamber that was specifically prepared for the protection and care of Lady Taria."
Alastor nodded and began walking through the connected passage directly toward Stormwind Castle. Frederick and Rhonin followed dutifully behind him.
After entering the castle, Alastor immediately made his way to the basement floors and the secure chamber where he and Varian had their mother placed before they left for war.
Varian had placed half of the Royal Guard there to protect it, while Alastor had personally enchanted and warded the chamber to ensure that their comatose mother would remain safe in their absence.
Once he reached the hall leading to it, he saw Anduin exiting the chamber with a dazed look on his face. It wasn't only him; Bolvar, Gavinrad, and Mathias were there as well.
"Uncle!" Alastor called out as he sped up.
Anduin looked up, not at all surprised to see Alastor despite his current state.
"How's Mother!?"
"Uhhh... I don't know how to explain it, but the good news is that she's technically up—"
Anduin couldn't finish as Alastor's eyes widened. He immediately entered the room and froze.
Taria had her back to him as she faced Varian, who also wore a complicated expression.
Alastor didn't stop to contemplate anything. He simply hugged her tightly from behind as tears—happy ones—nearly fell from his eyes.
"Mom! You're awake! Thank the bloody fucking Light, Aspects, and whatever gods pulled off this miracle! Hahaha!"
Taria grunted slightly from the force of the hug but relaxed when she realized it was her younger son, chuckling softly.
"Sweetling, do you intend to crush me to death? You should know your own strength."
Despite her scolding words, there was no real reproach in them as she allowed him to hold her and reassure himself that she was, in fact, here.
"You gave me a heart attack, Ma! I spent more than a year and a half worrying about you while hunting down the bastards who did this."
Alastor felt a lightness overcome him as he "complained" to her like he was a child once again.
Alastor then looked at his elder brother, who looked as though he desperately wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.
"Varian! Why are you standing there like a mannequin? This calls for a celebra—"
Alastor's smile froze as he finally noticed something very disorienting behind Varian.
Specifically, a bed.
The SAME bed where Taria had lain throughout the duration of her coma.
The bed... which still had her body lying on it.
Alastor mechanically looked down at Taria, who had disentangled herself from his arms and turned to face him.
It was the same face. The same presence, albeit intermingled very closely with another familiar presence.
But her entire body was spectral now.
His pupils dilated, and he paled as he shakily raised a hand toward her.
"G... G... Gh... Ghh..."
"Alastor, sweetie, I know how it might look, but I can assure you it is me, and I'm not—"
THUMP!
"...a ghost."
Taria completed her sentence with a deadpan look as she looked down at Alastor's unconscious form.
Varian couldn't blame him. He had almost had a heart attack when he first saw her form too.
Heck, Regent Bolvar and Paladin Gavinrad had nearly jumped out of the highest tower, thinking they had failed in their duties and were ready to give their lives to make amends!
Anduin opened the door and peeked in, where he saw the unconscious Alastor.
"I tried to tell him! But he didn't wait and barged in, so technically, I'm NOT at fault!"
"But you will be in trouble if you don't get your arse in here and help put my son to bed!"
Taria's strict tone was enough to get Anduin moving as he, Bolvar, Gavinrad, Frederick and Mathias quickly picked up Alastor. (Thank goodness that, in his mortal form, his weight was also that of his mortal stature and not that of his Primarch form.) They then carried him away.
Rhonin quickly gave Taria a bow before running after his unconscious bestie.
"Now, Varian, darling, you were telling me about what was happening while I was unconscious? Please continue. And what's this I hear about Alastor being king?"
"Yes, Mom."
Varian quickly nodded as he followed her out of the room. He might be King of Stormwind now, but their mother was one woman neither he nor his brother would ever try to get on the bad side of.
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Alastor woke up on his old bed in his room in Stormwind Castle. Blinking away the sleep from his eyes, he looked at the familiar surroundings with a serene smile.
Varian sat beside the bed, and behind him was his wife, Tiffin. Both were trying-and failing-to give him reassuring smiles.
"Varian, Tiffin? What are you two doing here?" Alastor laughed as he rubbed his head. "Man, you wouldn't believe the dream I had."
"The entire continent descended into Chaos, we went to war, I beat the shit out of gods, and I, of all people, became King of the world! Hahahaha!"
Alastor laughed, not noticing Varian opening and closing his mouth while Tiffin's smile became more and more awkward.
"Uhm, Alastor, brother, you see—"
"Oh, wait, wait, hear me out. This is the best part. Mom became a ghost! Hahahaha! Man, did someone spike my drink with dwarven ale again?"
But then Alastor stopped laughing as he saw that both his brother and sister-in-law were, in fact, not laughing.
"Varian, you know this is the part where you tell me how Rhonin, Brann, or someone else spiked my drinks? Or you I don't know... share a laugh with me?"
"Alastor, it was not a dream..." Varian finally said as Tiffin also nodded from behind him.
Just then, the spectral form of Taria teleported into the room with a flash of arcane light, causing Alastor to almost jump away before he felt a force keeping him on the bed.
It wasn't to the point where he wouldn't have been able to break free with his brute strength, much less his other methods, but the fact that Taria was able to exert telekinetic force strong enough to immobilize him was shocking, since his mother had never been involved in any of the more combat-oriented professions, such as a mage or druid.
"Alastor!" Taria closed the distance and dispelled her power as she gave her son a kind look. "It is me, sweetling. I'm here now."
She caressed Alastor's cheek as he flinched at the dual sensation of her normal warmth, along with a strange energy that suffused her entire being, before finally relaxing.
Taria had been given the rundown of everything that had happened while Alastor was asleep by Varian, and to say she was shocked and appalled was an understatement.
How could things have gone so wrong so quickly?
The continent descending into war. The destruction of Lordaeron and then the subsequent destruction of Alterac. The living races at war with the forces of Undeath and Chaos.
Her sons, who despite being in grief over the death of their father, had risen to lead, Varian taking up his mantle as the King of Stormwind and Alastor as the Supreme Commander of the Alliance.
Taria felt grief at what her boys had been through, but also pride at how, despite the circumstances, they had remained true to both her and Llane's teachings.
Despite it being their first war and being all but thrown into it, they had handled it splendidly.
She and Llane had always known that Varian would be a great king when his time came, and their eldest son had surpassed their expectations by not only leading the people of Stormwind with strength and conviction, but also with wisdom.
And then there was Alastor. How could Taria not know what her younger son was like?
He never had much desire for power or influence.
He would've been perfectly happy sparring with Anduin and Varian in his downtime while working on magic and technology in his workshop, trying to advance both fields and help the vast majority of people in Azeroth, especially the commoners.
Yet despite that, anyone who spent time with him could see the qualities of a great hero and leader within him, whether it was his ability to dispel chaos and despair or his ability to inspire hope in all those who followed him, allowing them to fight without fear and push beyond their limits.
Or maybe it was because underneath that demigod visage.
He was simply a man who you just knew would fight to Hell and back for you. A man who, even if you died, would never allow your death to be meaningless because Alastor would never allow it to be seen that way.
Symbol of Hope.
It was a very apt title the people of Azeroth had given him, alongside his other titles.
And if she were being honest, she would go as far as to bet that she wasn't the only one who felt relieved knowing that it was Alastor who now stood at the top of their world instead of someone else.
A good man without strength only made a weak king.
A selfish man with strength only made a tyrant.
But a good man with strength and wisdom?
That has the makings of a Great king.
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Taria listened as Alastor recounted the few things that Varian had not witnessed and thus couldn't tell her.
As for Varian and Tiffin? they had quietly left to give them some space. Varian had already shed his own share of tears and had been told everything he wanted to know from Taria.
Taria felt immense anger and hate when she heard about the centuries of torture her son had endured within the Warp at the hands of the Chaos Gods.
But she also felt an almost sadistic glee when she heard how her son had proceeded to retaliate against the Chaos Gods after being empowered and pseudo-possessed by the Phoenix Force.
It was a surprise to hear that her adopted son was the spiritual child of a powerful cosmic entity from an entirely different reality who had then been brought to Azeroth by an Elven Clown God.
(A/N: Without context, that is a crazy thing to read, and I'm the one who wrote it.)
She was also happy to know that Alastor had found a sort of inner peace within himself and had accepted his role as a leader and king.
"Mom, I told you everything now—well, most of everything. But what about you? How are you like this now?"
Alastor gestured toward her new form. The closest thing he could compare her to was a Warp entity, although she was very different from the ones he had encountered during his time in the Warp.
Yet unlike daemons, Taria was existing in Realspace with ease and without any apparent drain.
Which he was very thankful for.
He would rather not see his mother with the "qualities" of the denizens of the Realm of Chaos!
"Oh, this? Well, let's just say I was visited by my new friend while I was in my coma. She saw my condition and offered me a way to not only wake up but ascend in some way."
"She said it was also a thank-you for what you did for her!"
Alastor blinked owlishly at what she said. Heck, his original plan had been to ask Isha to help heal and restore his comatose mother.
"Ma... who is this friend of yours?"
"Her name's Azeroth."
Alastor almost choked.
Wasn't that the name of their world?
When had it become the name of a person!?
But then he saw the gremlin-like smile on his mother's face, which didn't give him a good feeling, especially as she raised her hand.
"Wait, Mom... what are you doing!?"
SNAP!
With a snap of her fingers, she and Alastor vanished in a bright blue light.
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When Alastor came to his senses again, he found himself in a VERY familiar place he would have preferred not to see for quite some time.
The Warp.
It's just that...
Wasn't it a bit different from how he remembered it?
Alastor saw that he was inside some sort of gigantic, invisible domed dimension as he got up and stood beside his mother.
The tumultuous, chaotic, and unpredictable tides of the Warp that churned around the Realms of Chaos the last time he had been here were not present. Instead, he looked out at the area beyond the invisible dome.
The tides of the Warp were now calm, almost gentle and rhythmic?
He could bet that it had something to do with the light that covered them, as if it were soothing them and stripping away the negative and chaotic aspects that had previously defined them.
Alastor was flabbergasted at how...
Peaceful it was.
He looked at Taria, who only gave him an enigmatic smile.
Alastor reached out with his senses, wanting to determine the nature of this light that seemed to be a combination of the energies of the Light, the Phoenix, and a different type of Arcane/Warp energy.
He suddenly froze at what he found through his probing.
The light was, in fact, originating from behind him.
And also...
Alastor looked down.
Yup.
He and his mother weren't actually standing on conjured ground.
They were standing on a palm.
A very, VERY big palm!
Alastor slowly turned around and raised his head, only to see the smiling and serene visage of a humongous humanoid female with deep teal skin, glowing yellow eyes, and golden hair braided over her shoulder.
She had a warrior-like visage as she wore ornate golden armor etched with geometric patterns, through which luminous cyan energy pulsed. A massive winged helm framed her face.
Despite the proud and wise, warrior-queen-like celestial visage, this being looked down at Alastor with a gentle, maternal gaze.
"Hello, my child. It's a pleasure to finally be able to see your visage with my own eyes."
Alastor mechanically looked at Taria beside him with wide eyes, her smile only widening in response.
"Alastor, meet Azeroth."
"The Titan of Balance."
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