The surviving Wardens stood dazed on the beach, touching their intact bodies which still harbored the phantom pains of death. Their eyes were a chaotic whirlpool of shock, confusion, and the raw, lingering terror of those who had just peered into the abyss and been pulled back.
They remembered the icy grip of death, the searing agony of the flames, the sickening crack of splintering bone, and the hollow void as their consciousness flickered out... yet here they were, undeniably "alive."
This violent transition between life and death was more than their minds could process. They could only stand there, staring blankly as they listened to Rhodes.
The surging life energy and natural aura radiating from Rhodes were undeniable; it was purer and more potent than that of many Druid Elders. Combined with his mention of the demigod Cenarius and his miraculous display of resurrection, the Wardens felt their resolve crumble, replaced by a profound sense of awe and dread.
They instinctively looked toward their mistress, Maiev, only to find their formidable leader unconscious, dangling precariously from the hand of an Archangel like a fragile doll.
Lost and without direction, the Wardens turned their collective gaze toward Naisha, the highest-ranking officer among them besides Maiev. Feeling the weight of her sisters' expectations, Naisha summoned her courage and looked up at Rhodes.
"Will you not harm us? What was the purpose of this... to kill us only to bring us back?"
"It was a lesson," Rhodes replied, his gaze sweeping over the shaken Night Elves. "I hope you now recognize the gravity of your mistakes. Many of you saw me at the Vault of the Wardens. I was there with Tyrande. I act under the mandate of the demigod Cenarius; everything I do is lawful. It is your mistress, Maiev Shadowsong, whose actions are illegal."
His voice became an absolute command: "I know you have doubts, perhaps even resentment. But remember today's lesson: your second lives were granted by me. To defy my will, or the collective decision of the demigods and your leaders, is to experience death again. And next time, there will be no resurrection. Life or death—the choice is yours."
The Wardens began to whisper among themselves.
"Sisters, what do we do?"
"That life energy is real... and he truly was one of the leaders of the Allied Forces at Mount Hyjal."
"But our Mistress is still in his hands."
"We must get her back, no matter what."
Finally, Naisha stepped forward and performed a traditional Night Elven salute. "We thank you for your... mercy, Great Archdruid Rhodes. Will you return our Mistress to us so that we may escort her back to Kalimdor?"
It had taken Naisha a moment to settle on a title, eventually settling on "Archdruid." Given the sheer volume of life energy Rhodes emitted and his claim of being Cenarius's disciple, the title seemed appropriate. Rhodes did not bother to deny it.
The Wardens were desperate. They were completely outmatched; to remain defiant would be a fool's errand. Their only goal now was to retrieve Maiev.
"You are in no position to bargain," Rhodes said, his voice quiet but carrying a soul-shaking authority. "Your Mistress has other matters to attend to. She will remain with me for a time so that I may personally educate her. I intend to make her see the error of her ways and curb her reckless behavior."
Return the madwoman? Not a chance. That would be letting the alpha wolf back in the pack, rendering his display of power meaningless. If Maiev were freed now, she would immediately resume her hunt for Illidan or turn her vengeance on him. He needed her fully cowed and convinced.
"But... but Archdruid, this is surely inappropriate," Naisha stammered. "We can care for her. You have no right to imprison her."
"Who says I have no right? By my status as a disciple of the demigod, I have every right. I will write to Tyrande and Malfurion personally to explain." Rhodes pointed toward their ships. "Now, take your vessels and return to Kalimdor immediately. Tell High Priestess Tyrande and Archdruid Malfurion everything that happened. Tell them that I am now responsible for the matter of Illidan. Tell them the Wardens' duty is to protect the Night Elves, not to obsessively hunt a 'monster' pardoned by a demigod—and certainly not to make an enemy of me. As for Maiev, I will see to her 'rehabilitation' myself."
Rhodes knew Tyrande would likely support this with both hands. In Night Elven territory, Maiev's favorite pastime was making life difficult for the High Priestess. The two loathed each other; if given the chance, Rhodes had no doubt they would happily see the other neutralized.
The surviving Wardens exchanged looks of defeat. Naisha took a deep breath and bowed her head. "...We understand, Lord Rhodes. Thank you for... sparing our lives. we will deliver your words."
She couldn't bring herself to say "forgive," as the memory of the slaughter was too visceral. But the power to restore life was so overwhelming that she couldn't fathom resistance. She only wanted to get her sisters away from this terrifying human and his army.
The other Wardens gathered their weakened comrades and scattered gear, walking silently toward their ships. No one tried to seize Maiev. It was futile, and they knew it. In their final moments on the beach, they cast a lingering look at their mentor, their trainer, and their eldest sister, Maiev Shadowsong.
The ships hoisted their sails and soon dipped below the horizon. The sharp edge of their pursuit was gone, replaced by a lingering mist of confusion and dread. They had been utterly defeated.
Jaina watched the ships disappear and sighed. "You've solved the immediate problem, but I fear you've left a permanent rift with the Night Elves. When Maiev wakes up, she won't let this go easily."
Rhodes laughed, pulling Jaina close. "A rift? There's no such thing. With enough power, rifts are easily mended—or replaced by deeper respect. Tyrande and Malfurion are pragmatists; they will weigh the benefits and perhaps even thank me. As for Maiev..." He glanced at the unconscious elf. "After this, she should learn the difference between obsession and absolute power. If not, I don't mind 'educating' her a few more times."
Rhodes grabbed a bucket of seawater and splashed it directly onto Maiev's face. The shock of the cold water brought her gasping back to consciousness.
"Agh! I'll kill you! You slaughtered my sisters!" She roared, trying to lunge, but the Archangels pinned her shoulders like mountains. She writhed in vain, her eyes burning with a hatred so intense it felt as if she might swallow him whole.
"Stop screaming," Rhodes said flatly, crouching before her with a playful glint in his eyes. "Look around. I didn't actually finish off your sisters."
Maiev froze. Her frantic struggling ceased for a heartbeat. She whipped her head around, her keen eyes scanning the beach. The horrific corpses were gone, replaced only by scorched sand and broken debris. In the distance, she could just make out the white sails of the Warden ships on the horizon.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. A wave of disbelief and overwhelming relief crashed into her, followed by deep confusion. They... they aren't dead? They all left? How? I saw them burn... I saw them crushed...
"What... what did you do?" her voice was dry, the madness replaced by a staggering uncertainty.
"What did I do?" Rhodes stood up and brushed non-existent dust from his hands. "I simply gave them—and you—a lesson you will never forget. How did death feel, Maiev Shadowsong? How did it taste, watching your sisters die while you were powerless to stop it?"