“Greetings, young prince, we must talk.” The man who called himself The Prophet said to John when he and Jaina walked up to him. He was a bit shorter than John, appearing to be somewhere between fifty and sixty years old, with a weathered face and an oddly cut brown beard that was starting to grey. He wore a weathered brown cape with bronze trim and carried a gnarled staff.

Despite his appearance of being destitute, John wasn’t under any illusion about just how powerful this man was. He hadn’t felt an aura this powerful from someone since he was in The Great Cleric when Galba had hit him with a burst of his power. If anything, the man before him was even stronger. A lot stronger.   

“Good evening, Prophet. I assume you called for me because of the impending demon invasion?” John said, still sleepy despite the fifteen minute walk outside the camp. On the walk, Jaina told him how the prophet had approached her when she and the sorceresses were returning to camp, and asked if he could speak to him, and that time was of the essence.

“Listen to me… wait? How do you know that?” He said, taken aback by John’s question.

“You are not the only one who has had visions. I’ve heard you have talked with other leaders, and they have all ignored your warnings. I assure you, I will listen to what you have to say because I believe I have seen some of it as well.” John said, pointing to his Fel infested eye. “Now, would you like to return to camp with me and we can sit down and talk over a cup of tea about what the hell is going on in this world?”

“Curious. I did not foresee this. I was just going to give you a warning like all the others, and like all the others, I expected to be ignored. Very well, lead on, young prince, let us talk over some tea.” 

30 Minutes Later

They made it back to camp without incident, the prophet remaining mostly silent on the journey, just commenting that he was not used to using his legs as much as he used to. John just laughed at that, already having heard from Jaina that he had appeared as a giant raven the times he had met the Archmage Antonidas. 

“Yeah, I would probably fly everywhere too if I could transform into a bird,” John said, causing the man to chuckle as well.

They commandeered the command tent that contained a few camp chairs and a small table with a map of Lordaeron on it. With a kiss, he asked Jaina to fetch them some tea and promised to wait until she returned before they started discussing anything important. She nodded and, after giving the Prophet a quick glance, she ducked out of the tent, leaving the pair of them alone. 

“So, you talked to my father already, I take it? How did that go?” John said, taking a seat.

The prophet joined him at the table, his expression seeming like this was a novel experience for him. “Ignored and called me a madman, then had me chased out of the throne room. You would think that with all the powerful people in your alliance there, they would at least have taken a moment to listen to my warning. Instead, they tried to detain me.”

“Wait, did you just pop up in the middle of his throne room during a high council meeting?”

“I thought it best to put as much dramatic emphasis on my point as possible. I will admit, my timing may have been a bit off, but time is running out.”

“If this weren’t so damn important, I would have loved to see the looks on all their faces. Some of the envoys are quite disagreeable people.” John replied with a chuckle. “Did you not think to be a little more discreet with your warning, maybe try to arrange a meeting where it was just the two of you? Well, maybe not just the two of you, but something more private than the middle of a meeting where people were probably already annoyed, and tempers flared?”

“Yes… It has been a long time since I have had to use any sort of tact. Still, I doubt anyone would have listened anyway.” The prophet mused, then looked over at John. “What is going on here?”

“We are waiting for some tea? What do you mean?”

“I mean, I feel like… like I am completely disarmed talking to you. Like we are old friends, sharing a drink around a fire. There should be a certain gravitas to this discussion, since it is quite possibly about the end of the world. Instead, it feels like we are talking about the weather, a bumper crop, or some other inane thing.”

“Well, I told my soon to be queen that I would wait to talk about important things, since she will be taking what is said here to Dalaran and the Archmage. I see no reason to just stare at each other until then.” John said, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head. “Besides, if you are giving us a warning, you must have some sort of plan you want to pitch. I’m of the opinion that any major decisions should be made with a clear head in a relaxed environment, at least when possible. I’ve failed miserably at that in the past and am trying to do better going forward.”

“Is that right? Huh, I told myself something similar before, when I embarked on my current… well, that does not matter. My past is irrelevant to this discussion right now. Though if you don’t mind explaining, how did you become touched by the Fel? That is not very common in humans.” The man asked, pivoting the conversation to John.

Seeing no harm in it, John explained how he had come to be injured by that orc and how he tore open its throat in the heat of battle and ingested its blood. Then he went over his visions, which seemed to enrapture the prophet, the man leaning forward and hanging off John’s every word. Jaina arrived with the tea just as John was describing seeing the giant demon with wings, serving them and taking a seat beside John. He took one of her hands in his and squeezed it in thanks.

“Incredible! You have described the portal that used to be on Draenor perfectly, and that demon… tell me, did it have tentacles coming off of its chin? Or did it have fire for a beard?”

John racked his brain, but all that stood out was the demon’s eyes, like pure lava. “I am sorry, but I don’t remember. Do you know this demon then?”

“From your brief description, it could be either Kil’jaeden, the second in command of the Burning Legion before Archimonde… or” The man intoned solemnly, pausing for a moment to let his next words sink in. “Or it isn’t a demon at all, but a Titan. The Dark Titan Sargeras. He is the true leader of the Burning Legion. A being I hope never to encounter again.”

“Titan? What is a Titan?” John asked, confused. He thought he was just going to be dealing with demons here, but that sounded like something out of Greek mythology to him. Weren’t Titans the ones who created those gods or something? He couldn’t recall off hand. Jaina had begun squeezing his hand in a death grip, apparently recognising the name from somewhere.

“They are a race of colossal, planet-sized cosmic beings, composed of arcane magic and the primordial matter from which the universe was born. They roam across the cosmos like walking worlds, imbued with the raw power of creation itself. They have shaped and brought life and order to countless worlds across the Great Dark Beyond. They are akin to the gods of this universe.” The prophet explained to him. “To think you may have drawn the attention of Sargeras with that tiny amount of Fel in your eye, that is beyond comprehension.” 

“Well, it was a dream,” John said, wondering just how dangerous this world was really going to be. It was full of swords and sorcery. Why are there literally planet-sized beings flying around? Did he need to bring a… some planet cracking weapon from Infinite Frontiers here to battle a planet god thing? 

Note 27 – ALEC WHAT IS WITH THIS WORLD?!?!

“Don’t be too sure about that. I have had some… run-ins in the past with that being. Still, that isn’t why I wanted to talk with you, young prince. This world has much more immediate problems than that Titan showing up in your vision.”

“Right, the undead. Let me finish telling you what I saw in my visions.” John said, taking a sip of tea before continuing his story, relaying to this prophet what he experienced about the undead invading Lordaeron, Quel’Thalas, and Dalaran.

“Wait? That book! It still exists!?! That is how they are going to do it.” The prophet said, suddenly becoming animated. “The demons must not be allowed to get their hands on that book. In fact, it should be destroyed!” 

“Do you know what it contains?” Jaina asked, stepping into their conversation for the first time. 

“It is m- it’s a book of spells from a powerful warlock who summoned the orcs and demons to this world in the last two wars. It contains instructions on how to reopen the demonportal. Prince, Mage, you must do everything in your power to keep that book out of the hands of the demons remaining in this world. If they manage to reopen the portal, then they can summon Archimonde, the Overlord of the Burning Legion, from the Twisting Nether. He is a demon with terrifying magical power and one of the Titans’ most powerful minions.”

“And how do you know this? Why do you seem to know so much about the Demons?” Jaina said, raising her voice. John had to physically restrain her from standing up. The prophet looked ready to bolt out of the tent.

I thought she was the calmer one of the two of us? 

“Easy, my love. Take a breath and have a drink of your tea. We should hear him out first before we make any rash actions like the rest of the leaders in the alliance did.” He said, patting Jaina’s leg. She was positively fuming for some reason.

“But-”

“Please love, for me?” He asked.

“Fine..” She said, sitting back in her chair again. She appeared to have thought of something serious, but getting angry at this man before he provided them with more information would get them nowhere.

He turned back to the prophet. “Before we commit to anything, can you explain your warning first. Let’s get all the information on the table, then come up with a strategy.”

“Of course. Before this new revelation, I wanted to implore you to take your people and leave these lands. Take your people and make your way to Kalimdor. Only by uniting with the people there will you be able to stop the Burning Legion from destroying this planet. The undead are just a tool they are using, much like they had used the orcs in the last war. I have already convinced the orcs to set sail to Kalimdor, their leader, Thrall, was the only one to have heeded my warning.” He said, then raised his hand to stop either of them from saying anything. Not that they could. It felt like something was preventing him from opening his mouth, and all he could do was listen to the Prophet speak.

“The demons have sent to this world another powerful being called the Lich King. It is a being that already has a stronghold on Northrend, having defeated the inhabitants of that continent. It is from there that this undead corruption is spreading, and there is no hope of stopping it, at least not as your nations currently are. You must unite all the races of this world together as one force, for this is the only way to stop the demons from tearing you apart piece by piece. If you remain here, you will perish under the undead tide.”

The man stopped then, downing his remaining tea and setting the cup aside. “Thank you for the tea and the conversation. It has been a long time since I have done anything normal like this. However, I can see I have overwhelmed you both with my answers tonight, and I must take my leave. If you choose to save your people, seek out the Oracle in Kalimdor, and they will provide you with further answers. Farewell, and may we meet again.” The prophet said, turning into a giant raven and flying out of the tent without letting John or Jaina say anything further.  

Once he left, whatever was preventing John from speaking dissipated, and he looked over at Jaina. She was staring at the still moving tent flaps from when the Prophet departed, her expression unreadable.

“I can see why no one would listen to him. He is quite a difficult person to talk to.” John said after a few moments, then took another sip of his tea. “This was good, Jaina, thank you for making it.”

She just looked at him like he had two heads. He just smiled back at her. What else was he going to do? Apparently, demons controlling the undead were going to destroy this world, and there was nothing they could do but evacuate to a distant land. Oh, and a Titan might have taken a personal interest in him, some godlike being that was in charge of all the demons. 

What he wanted to do was get drunk and forget everything, but that would just end badly for everyone.

So he sipped on his tea instead. It really was quite nice.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep