"Long time no see, Rhodes." Malfurion approached Rhodes with a look of profound emotion, stepping forward to give him a powerful embrace.
It was the hug of a brother who hadn't seen a dear friend in ages. Rhodes, however, returned the embrace with significant awkwardness. Please, I literally don't know you yet.
It seemed his past self had a very close relationship with the Archdruid—an intimacy Malfurion rarely showed in public.
"My love, the current Rhodes doesn't know us yet. You're being a bit too enthusiastic; you're scaring him," Tyrande said from the side. Her voice carried a hint of nostalgia. If only Illidan were here as well...
"Oh! I forgot about that. Lord Cenarius told us you wouldn't recognize us yet, but after a ten-thousand-year separation, Tyrande and I have missed you dearly," Malfurion said, releasing Rhodes.
Tyrande then stepped forward and shook Rhodes's hand. While not as outwardly warm as her husband, her attitude was clearly respectful. "To you, we are strangers. To us, you are the friend we haven't seen in ten millennia."
"To be honest, I've heard much of your legends. You are the leaders of the Night Elves," Rhodes replied with an awkward smile.
"That's only natural. Once you return from your journey to the past, we can be as we were before," Malfurion noted.
"Please, my love, don't reveal too much of the future. It isn't good for him," Tyrande interjected with a roll of her eyes. To them, this Rhodes was a soul in the making, not yet the man they remembered.
"Come with me, Tyrande, Malfurion—my students," Cenarius beckoned. "We must deliberate on how to respond to the return of the Burning Legion."
The group followed the Demigod into a large treehouse. Cenarius began by briefing the Night Elf leaders on the current situation. He explained that a month and a half ago, a fleet from Lordaeron had landed—an organization called the Alliance, comprised of Humans, Dwarves, Gnomes, and their former kin, the High Elves.
Uther, Jaina, and Capurnia bowed respectfully to the legendary pair. When Tyrande saw Capurnia, her eyes briefly flickered with a look of recognition and subtle disapproval. She shot a glance at Rhodes that seemed to say: I should have known. You're involved with the Highborne again. Some things never change.
"Rhodes, give us the details of how this disaster began," Malfurion requested.
Rhodes didn't hold back. He explained the centuries-old conspiracy: how Sargeras sent his avatar to Northrend, how Aegwynn defeated it but passed the corruption to her son, Medivh. He spoke of the Orcish invasion twenty years prior, the plague that swept Lordaeron, and finally, how Kel'Thuzad summoned Archimonde and the Legion's elite forces into Azeroth using the power of Dalaran.
"We should have sensed this sooner. This invasion has been in motion for centuries. This is a failure on my part, and on the part of the Kaldorei," Malfurion sighed. Tyrande placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"It isn't too late," Cenarius added. "Archimonde's target is Nordrassil. He wants to consume the World Tree's power to open a permanent portal for the Legion's full might. If the main army arrives, Azeroth is lost."
"Rhodes, tell us of the Legion's strength this time," Tyrande asked.
"The current demonic force is relatively small. Their primary army consists of the Undead Scourge. These creatures are terrified of Holy Light magic—a power both Humans and High Elves possess," Rhodes explained.
"Holy Light... I know of it. One of the six fundamental forces of the universe, the antithesis of Fel and Shadow," Tyrande observed. "You used this power ten thousand years ago. Some Highborne studied it then, though our people do not practice it today."
As the leader of the Sisterhood of Elune, Tyrande's faith was tied to the moon. To her, the Holy Light—often associated with the sun—was different. In the past, the arrogant Highborne had viewed the Light as a tool to be tamed, much like Arcane energy, rather than a deity to be worshipped. They believed the Light could be dangerously persuasive, showing mortals beautiful visions to enslave their will.
"Praise the Great Holy Light! If your people wish, I would be honored to share its teachings," Uther offered with earnest joy.
Malfurion and Tyrande exchanged a wary glance. To them, Uther was the exact archetype the Highborne had warned about: a zealot whose devotion to the Light bordered on the "persuasive" delusion they feared.
"Regrettably, my people and I have no desire to learn this path. We are followers of Nature and the Moon. But we thank you for the offer," Tyrande replied firmly.
Rhodes felt a bit helpless. He knew the Light wasn't as purely benevolent as Uther believed. He only allowed his system-generated Archangels to use it because they were bound to his command. If he tried to turn the Night Elves into Paladins, he had no idea what kind of ideological mess would follow.
"Let's focus on the strategy," Rhodes interjected, steering the conversation away from theology. He realized his "past self" had truly left a mark on Night Elf history if the Highborne had once studied the Light because of him.
"I plan to lure the Legion to the World Tree," Malfurion declared, nodding to the group. "Let Archimonde attempt to absorb its power, then we will awaken the ancient spirits of the forest to detonate the tree and destroy him."
Cenarius had already shared Rhodes's suggestion with Malfurion, and the Archdruid found it aligned perfectly with his own thoughts.
"What? My love, if we lose Nordrassil, our people will lose their immortality. We will become mortal, subject to age and disease," Tyrande gasped.
"Eternal life is an anomaly of nature. Our race was once cursed by the Well of Eternity; we have enjoyed ten thousand years of unearned life. It is time to use that power to save Azeroth," Malfurion stated firmly.
"You could always plant another World Tree," Rhodes suggested with a shrug. "There's no rule saying you can only have one. And it's better if you do it yourself, Malfurion, to avoid the mess Fandral Staghelm might make later."
"It won't be the same, Rhodes. Nordrassil was blessed by the Dragon Aspects. Without their blessing, a new tree would only extend our lives, not grant immortality. But... it is indeed a way forward," Malfurion conceded.
"Then we shall make our stand at Mount Hyjal," Cenarius concluded.
"Lord Cenarius, my love, Rhodes... you are forgetting someone," Tyrande said softly. "Illidan can help us as well."