For several long seconds, neither of them spoke.
The portal shimmered between worlds, its surface rippling like liquid glass under twin moons and foreign stars. It was not wide enough for passage, not yet, but it was enough. Mana strained softly in Leylin's study, while crimson-tinged winds howled across the hills of Draenor.
Enough to see. Enough to hear.And there she was. Alleria Windrunner. Not a memory. Not an echo. Not a projection born from longing. Real. Alive.
Her golden hair swayed in Draenor's wind, her ranger armor bearing the marks of war and survival. Her eyes, sharp, resilient, unyielding, softened the moment they locked onto him.
Inside his study in the Windrunner Manor, Leylin closed his eyes briefly. He needed that moment. To steady his breathing. To suppress the storm rising in his chest. When he opened them again, the storm in his chest had quieted just enough.
"…It took me longer than I intended," he said at last, his voice steady but soft. "I'm sorry."
Alleria blinked. Then she smiled the same smile he remembered from beneath the trees of Quel'Thalas, before war had hardened the world.
"You crossed worlds to find me," she replied gently. "I think I can forgive a little delay."
The tension in his shoulders eased. Not completely. But enough. But warmer than they had been in a long time.
"I should have reached you sooner."
She shook her head gently.
"It's fine."
Her voice softened further.
"You're here now."
That was enough. The tension that had coiled around Leylin's heart for years loosened. Across dimensions, they stood in silence again, this time not in shock, but in quiet relief.
Leylin's gaze sharpened slightly as he examined her more closely.
"You're thinner," he noted. "And your aura… it's changed."
A faint smirk tugged at her lips.
"Still analyzing even now?"
"I worry," he replied simply.
The smirk faded into something gentler.
"It hasn't been easy," she admitted.
She turned slightly, glancing toward the distant fortifications of Honor Hold, its torches flickering against Draenor's harsh landscape.
"The Sons of Lothar defeated the Horde here," she continued. "We broke their strongholds. Drove them back."
Her voice carried pride but also exhaustion.
"Some of them fled through the Dark Portal. Back to Azeroth."
Leylin's eyes narrowed slightly. Back to Azeroth. The pieces began moving in his mind. The old Horde fractured. Scattered remnants returning. Seeds of something new. He thought of a young orc raised among humans. Of a different path. Of a Warchief who would reject demonic corruption.
"If the remnants are already here…" Leylin murmured thoughtfully, "then that changes everything here in Azeroth, some events have already probably started."
Alleria studied him curiously. "You're thinking ahead."
"Yes."
His voice grew quieter.
"If events align as I suspect… it will not be long before the next great conflict."
Her expression darkened slightly.
"You believe another war is coming."
"I believe," he said calmly, "that peace rarely lingers long when power vacuums exist."
He did not say it aloud. But in his mind, the timeline was accelerating. The Third War. The Scourge. The fall of kingdoms. If Draenor had reached this stage, then Azeroth would not be far behind. Time was moving. And he could no longer afford delay.
For a few moments, neither spoke of war. They simply looked at one another. Separated by a silver veil of magic. Connected by will stronger than distance.
Alleria reached forward slowly, placing her hand against the portal's surface. The surface shimmered as if responding to her presence. Leylin mirrored her gesture. Their palms aligned across the barrier.
"I missed you," she said quietly. Leylin did not hesitate this time.
"So did I."
There was no embellishment.No poetic phrasing. Just the truth. For someone who dissected reality into formulas and constructs, this was the one variable he could never reduce.
And their hands pressed against the barrier between worlds. Separated by a thin membrane of existence. Close enough to see every detail. Far enough to feel the ache of distance. Leylin's voice softened.
"I will open this fully."
Alleria smiled faintly.
"I know you will."
There was no doubt in her tone. She had always understood his nature. If there was a door, he would not stop until it opened. Leylin's expression gradually shifted back toward focus.
"There is something I need you to do," he said.
She raised an eyebrow slightly. "Already assigning missions?"
A small smile flickered across his face.
"Yes."
Her eyes warmed. "Go on."
"Speak with Khadgar," Leylin said seriously. "Tell him to collect everything."
"Everything?"
"Tomes. Spellbooks. Draenei arcane inscriptions. Orcish shamanic records. Any research regarding portal mechanics or dimensional collapse."
Alleria's expression grew thoughtful.
"You think Draenor holds something you can use."
"It must," Leylin replied. "This world has endured the tearing of dimensions. The strain of unstable gateways. The collapse of the Dark Portal."
His eyes gleamed faintly.
"Residual data remains within its magical fabric. If I can analyze parallel information from both sides—Azeroth and Draenor—I can refine the lattice."
"And open a stable gateway."
"One I control," he corrected.
Not a chaotic tear. Not a demonic rift. A precise, sovereign passage. Alleria studied him carefully.
"You're serious."
"I've never been more serious."
If war was coming, if the world was about to fracture again then separation was unacceptable.
The wind on Draenor intensified briefly. The portal flickered. Leylin adjusted the output subtly, stabilizing it again.
"I cannot hold this indefinitely yet," he admitted. "The mana cost is still high."
Alleria nodded.
"I'll speak to Khadgar."
Her gaze lingered on him.
"And I'll gather whatever knowledge we can find."
Leylin inclined his head slightly.
"Be careful."
She laughed softly.
"You sound like my sisters."
"Good," he replied calmly. "They are rarely wrong."
A quiet moment passed again.
Then—
"Leylin," she said.
"Yes?"
"Don't take too long."
A faint smile curved his lips.
"I won't."
The portal began to dim. The strain was reaching its limit. Their gazes remained locked until the very last shimmer of silver light faded. And when the rift finally sealed, the study fell silent.
Leylin stood motionless for several seconds. Then slowly exhaled. He had reached her. Across worlds. Across time. This was no longer a theory. No longer ambition. It was a promise. And Leylin did not break promises. Outside, the sea continued its endless rhythm.
Morning light had barely broken across the Windrunner Manor when Leylin moved. There was no hesitation in his steps. No lingering in reflection from the night before.
The reunion had been real. Alleria was alive. She was safe, for now. But Leylin's mind did not dwell in relief. It calculated consequences.
By mid-morning, the main hall of the manor was filled. Vereesa Windrunner stood near the eastern window, silver hair catching the light. Beside her, composed yet sharp-eyed, was Sylvanas Windrunner. Slightly behind them, younger and quieter, Lirath Windrunner listened with visible anticipation.
On the opposite side of the chamber stood Jaina Proudmoore, Tyr'ganal, and Aminel. They had all felt it last night. The violent surge of mana. The resonance of a stabilized interworld link.
But none of them had expected what Leylin would say next.
He entered without ceremony. His gaze swept across them once.
"I made contact with Alleria."
Silence. Then—Vereesa's breath caught. Sylvanas' eyes narrowed slightly not in doubt, but in sharpened focus. Lirath stepped forward involuntarily.
"She's alive?" he asked.
"Yes."
The single word carried weight.
"She's in Draenor. Stationed within Honor Hold. She's unharmed."
Vereesa closed her eyes briefly in relief. When she opened them, they shimmered faintly. Sylvanas exhaled slowly, though her posture remained rigid.
"I never doubted she'd survive," Sylvanas said evenly. "But confirmation… is different."
Tyr'ganal and Aminel exchanged subtle glances. Shock rippled through them internally. It had only been days since Leylin first managed partial interaction through the portal. Days.
And now he has achieved full communication across worlds? They had assumed months. Perhaps years. But Leylin, he moved as if time itself were compressed beneath his feet.
Jaina remained silent, though her eyes lingered on him with quiet awe. Leylin's gaze shifted toward Jaina.
"There is something else," he said calmly. "I need you to contact your father."
Jaina blinked slightly.
"My father?"
"Yes. Daelin Proudmoore."
The name settled heavily in the air.
"I have matters to discuss with him privately."
Jaina studied his expression carefully. There was no visible excitement. No warmth. Only calculation.
"I'll arrange it," she replied.
Vereesa, however, stepped closer.
"You reached our sister," she said softly. "She's safe."
Her eyes searched his face.
"So why does it feel like you're preparing for something?"
The question lingered. Sylvanas' gaze sharpened. Tyr'ganal straightened subtly. Aminel folded her arms. Leylin did not answer immediately.
Instead, he walked toward the center of the hall, stopping before the long table. For a brief moment, he remained silent. The room seemed to hold its breath. Finally, he spoke.
"What I'm about to share," he said quietly, "does not leave this room."
His gaze swept across each of them.
"Agreed?"
One by one, they nodded. Sylvanas spoke first.
"Of course."
Vereesa followed. Jaina inclined her head. Tyr'ganal and Aminel answered firmly. Lirath swallowed but nodded as well. Only then did Leylin continue.
"Alleria informed me," he said evenly, "that after the Sons of Lothar defeated the Horde in Draenor, remnants escaped."
Sylvanas' jaw tightened slightly.
"They fled?"
"Yes."
"Where?" Vereesa asked quietly.
Leylin's voice lowered.
"Through the Dark Portal."
Silence fell like a blade.
"They returned to Azeroth," he continued. "Before the portal was completely destroyed."
Jaina's eyes widened slightly.
"That means—"
"Yes," Leylin interrupted calmly. "Not all of them perished. Not all were stranded."
Tyr'ganal frowned.
"The Alliance believes the threat ended with Draenor's collapse."
"They are mistaken," Leylin replied.
Sylvanas' gaze hardened.
"How many?"
"Alleria didn't specify," he said. "But enough."
Enough to matter. Enough to reshape. Enough to ignite something new. Leylin's thoughts moved swiftly. If remnants had returned, then consolidation would follow.
Leadership would emerge. A different kind of Horde. He did not say the name aloud. But it lingered in his mind like distant thunder. Thrall. The pieces were aligning.
Vereesa studied him carefully.
"This is why you're urgent," she realized.
"Yes."
"But the Horde is broken," Lirath said uncertainly. "Scattered."
"For now," Leylin answered.
"Broken forces seek unity. And unity, under the right leader, becomes momentum."
Sylvanas' lips curved faintly.
"You're thinking several moves ahead."
"I always am."
Jaina's voice was quieter.
"You think another war is coming."
Leylin met her gaze.
"I think the conditions for one are forming."
He turned slightly, pacing slowly.
"The Alliance will believe the threat is diminished. Resources will be diverted. Vigilance will relax."
His eyes darkened faintly.
"That is when consolidation occurs."
Tyr'ganal exhaled slowly.
"And you want to speak with Daelin because…"
"Because he commands one of the strongest naval forces in Azeroth," Leylin replied. "And because he was a staunch enemy of the Horde, refusing to believe that it could ever change its ways. He greatly hated the orcs and would have been more than willing to see them all dead."
Jaina stiffened slightly at that. Leylin noticed but did not soften his tone.
"If everything lines up," he continued, "changes will occur within the human kingdoms."
Vereesa stepped closer.
"You're preparing already."
"Yes."
"But Alleria just returned to us in voice," she said gently. "Should we not celebrate?"
For a brief moment, Leylin's expression softened.
"I am," he said quietly.
His gaze drifted slightly, as if remembering silver light beneath Draenor's sky.
"But relief does not erase reality."
The room fell silent again. Sylvanas folded her arms.
"So what do we do?"
"For now?" Leylin replied calmly.
"We observe."
His eyes flickered faintly with restrained arcane light.
"And we prepare quietly."
What he did not say, what he kept locked behind composure was this: Time was accelerating. The Horde's remnants. Political instability.
If the pattern followed his projections, then something darker would emerge soon. Something beyond orcs. Beyond politics. Beyond borders.
He knew what was about to happen and they cannot ignore the tide. But for now, he would not burden them with prophecy. Not yet.
The gathering slowly dispersed. Vereesa lingered briefly before touching his arm.
"She'll come home," she said softly.
Leylin nodded once.
"I know."
Sylvanas paused at the doorway.
"If war comes," she said evenly, "I won't hesitate."
"I would expect nothing less."
Jaina approached last.
"I'll contact my father."
Her voice carried a hint of uncertainty.
"Do you trust him?"
Leylin met her gaze steadily.
"I trust that he will listen to what I have to say. If he won't, we still have you to convince your mother."
That, sometimes, was enough. As the hall emptied, Leylin stood alone once more. The reunion had brought warmth. Hope. Relief. But also clarity. The remnants had crossed back through the Dark Portal. The board was shifting again. And this time, he would not be unprepared.