Turalyon stepped through the halls of Capital City’s royal palace with an ease born of a great deal of experience. His feet directed him to where he needed to go without him even thinking about it while his mind was elsewhere.

He had walked these halls many times with his father when he was younger, and even more frequently after he became a priest of the Church of the Holy Light for work related purposes, such as now.

He, like many priests of the Church, had been working tirelessly for weeks to care for the many refugees of Stormwind who had fled the Horde destruction of their home here in Lordaeron.

As one of the most venerated priests of the Church and personal student of the Archbishop, he himself had been directing a vast majority of the Church’s efforts while his master was taking part in the Council of Seven Nations. It was some of the hardest work and greatest test of his leadership ability that he’d ever faced, but one he took head on with determination to see it through, as the people of Stormwind needed it.

As it was, their efforts had finally solidified enough that he was not needed to constantly direct things, and other Church functionaries could handle the day-to-day operations so he could better assist his master here during the talks.

Those refugees in need of healing and care were now healthy, temporary shelter had been made to house the majority of them in, if not in luxury, then at least in comfort. All had enough to eat and drink, and the dangers of violence or outbreaks of disease due to the large influx of people to Capital City had for now been addressed and was being handled.

Let it never be said that the Church lacked the people, resources, and drive to assist those in need of the Light’s embrace, a fact which he took pride in. But even then he wished he could do more, especially when he cared for the physical and emotional wounds of those in need.

Still, the Light gave him strength and he would ensure that strength was put towards others just as his master had taught him.

That is why when on his way to the Council Chambers when he heard the sound of sobbing his feet automatically directed him towards it, his body acting on its own to come to the aid of others.

The source of the sobbing made itself known quickly in the form of a young man, Prince Varian Wrynn of Stormwind, who was curled up in an alcove not far from the Council Chambers.

It was sadly a sight that Turalyon had become all too familiar with in recent days, and so acted as he had done hundreds if not thousands of times before.

“What ails you, my son?” Turalyon said gently as he made himself known, causing the young prince to nearly jump in shock. “Forgive my intrusion, your highness, but you are in pain and as a servant of the Light, I wish to help in whatever capacity I can. What causes you such grief?”

Prince Varian seemed unwilling to speak, simply burying his head into his knees.

“I know your people would be in dire straits if they knew you were in such a state and I did nothing to help you,” Turalyon tried a different tactic. “I am one of many who have been working hard to give them relief, and they all say how much they love their prince who protected them, spirited them away to safety, and even now visits their camps to give them food and kind words in these dark times. Surely they would want the same for you…”

That seemed to reach the prince as he raised his head and looked at Turalyon fully, his eyes red and tears staining his cheeks.

“They’re coming… They’re coming and it's gonna happen all over again!” Prince Varian finally spoke up with great emotion in his voice. “The Horde, they’ve taken Khaz Modan and done who knows what to the dwarfs and gnomes there. They’ve burned down two more kingdoms and- and we still do nothing! Gilneas and Alterac are even threatening to leave the talks entirely! Can’t they see that we need to work together?! That if we do nothing everywhere will become just like Stormwind, only this time we won’t have anywhere to run?!”

Throughout all of this Prince Varian still cried, his voice cracking under the strain of grief and anger, so full of hopelessness.

“I promised my father and mother I would protect our people… and I’m failing them…” he said slowly. “I should have died that day, not father or mother. They would have made things better rather than sitting there uselessly. I can’t do anything, and everything will be ruined because of it!”

Then he turned away from Turalyon's gaze in shame.

“They must hate me… my people should hate me… the Light has abandoned us all,” he finished in a broken tone.

At those words, something in Turalyon broke. He raised from where he was kneeling next to the young prince, grabbed him gently on the shoulder, and spoke up.

“Come with me,” he said as he guided the prince and started walking towards the Council Chambers.

“Wh—What? Why?” the sudden order threw the prince off.

“To knock some sense into some foolish men,” Turalyon said with determination as he led the prince forward, his earlier outburst of emotions and shock making him easy to move along.

They soon reached the entrance to the Council Chambers, loud voices easily heard through the thick doors guarded by several knights.

“Halt! The Council is in session and only—” one of the knights attempted to stop him as he got close.

“I am the personal assistant of the Archbishop and guest of the Prince of Stormwind. You will allow me entry,” Turalyon stated, not even giving the knight a chance to respond as he pushed past him and thrust the doors open with a slam, shocking those inside as he kept on moving.

Ignoring the various shouts of ‘what is the meaning of this?!’ and ‘who dares interrupt us?!’ Turalyon simply slammed the doors closed behind him, guided the prince to sit in the empty seat next to Sir Lothar, and finally climbed up upon the table that the Council was seated around. He ignored their shocked exclamations as he noted even his master, Alonsus, staring up at him in shock and worry as he stood above them all.

He slowly turned his head around the table, his gaze resting longer on the kings of Gilneas and Alterac, before finally speaking up.

“You are all fools!” he yelled out, the Light within him empowering his voice.

He was furious, more so than he had ever been before in his life because these men, these supposedly wise and good rulers of the various realms of mankind, had made a child who had experienced some of the worst horrors this world could throw at him make him doubt his self worth and the Light’s faith in him.

The Light was with them all, and he would prove it.

“You have sat here and quarreled endlessly for weeks, all the while the Horde advances upon us all! You argue over meaningless things, jockey for power, play political games, bring up old grievances and all manner of nonsense while an otherworldly force bent on our conquest and destruction inches ever closer! Stormwind has already been destroyed, its people scattered or worse, and you are wasting time politicking each other while we should be uniting to face this foe head-on! If you do not then every kingdom will be destroyed and every city burned as Stormwind has been, and your children orphaned like Prince Varian if they survive at all!”

Turalyon turned to said prince and Sir Lothar, his gaze one of pride.

“These two here have survived more than anyone has in generations. They protected their people even when all else was lost, and came to us for help. And still, they put themselves forward to assist in fighting back the Horde so that none of us have to face what they did! But we are failing them by not acting here and now while our foes grow ever closer.”

He turned back to the Council.

“The dwarves and gnomes of Khaz Modan are just another victim of our inaction, two peoples’ who have done no harm to anyone and have been kind neighbors to us all. The Horde took their land and even now prepares to do the same to us as well, but you are still not acting!”

Turalyon felt the Light burn within him, watching as it visibly glowed from his body and caused the council members to flinch back slightly at the light, besides his own master who merely looked upon him with wide eyes.

“If humanity fails to unite as our ancestors once did against the trolls we will be remembered as a people that could've saved Azeroth but were too proud to put aside our political ambitions to do so. But if humanity does form an alliance we can change history and become the guardians of Azeroth against not just the Horde, but any threat that might threaten it! Lands and people exist beyond our shore of good folk who deserve protection the same way Stormwind did! Other worlds exist beyond our own that could hold all manner of good and ill things that we should prepare for! And who knows what else exists beyond our imagination!”

The Light seemed to blaze from Turalyon then, but instead of blinding those present, it drew them in as he kept on speaking.

“So let us come together and prove to every speck of darkness and evil that exists in the universe that when they show themselves and seek nothing but death and destruction that the forces of good are there to oppose them! That heroes will rise to the occasion to beat them back! That while they seek conflict just for the sake of it we seek it to make peace and so that our children might live and grow in safety!”

Turalyon felt like a bonfire then, the words coming from somewhere he could not explain but knew must be said.

“Let us join together for the sake of all! Let us join together in the name of the Light! Let us join together to become the Alliance I know we can be! But most importantly…”

Turalyon burned like a star, and found its warm embrace.

“Let us join together to beat those bastards back!”

At the end of those words, a burst of Light emanated from Turalyon and washed over the gathered rulers, causing the Council Chambers to explode into applause and shouts of agreement.

Prince Varian showed none of the grief and doubt from earlier, simply smiling ear to ear as he cheered Turalyon on.

Greymane and Perenolde, the two staunchest opponents against the formation of an alliance due to their differing goals also clapped and cheered as if none of that mattered anymore.

Even his master was on his feet, clapping and cheering at Turalyon while also showing more pride than he had even seen the archbishop show before.

As the clapping and cheering died down King Menethil spoke up with a raised hand.

“Well said, Father Turalyon… though if we are going to do anything else today we will need our table back,” the man said with a smirk.

Oh… Turalyon had honestly forgotten about that sometime during his impassioned speech. At the realization, the Light around him seemed to die down in an instant as he felt his face heat up.

“My apologies, your majesty,” Turalyon bowed respectfully as he quickly made his way off the table, King Trollbane giving him a strong pat on the back as he stepped off near the ruler.

“Well… after all that I suppose it's as good a time as any to ask this again,” King Menethil spoke up. “All those in favor of a military alliance of all the human kingdoms, say aye.”

“Aye!” King Trollbane said enthusiastically.

“Aye,” King Perenolde said with a nod and smile.

“Aye,” King Greymane grunted.

“Aye,” Lord Proudmoore said with a grin.

“Aye,” Archbishop Alonsus said with pride.

“Aye/Aye!” Sir Lothar and Prince Varian said at once, the latter looking a touch embarrassed as he realized he did so with much vigor, but the old knight simply nodded with a smile at him and with a hand on his shoulder.

“Aye,” Archmage Antonidas said with a pleased look in his eye as he stared around the table.

“And the ayes have it,” King Menethil declared. “Let it henceforth be known on this day the Alliance of Lordaeron, as the hosts of this event, is thus forged. And with its forging that we work together to push back the Horde from whatever dark hole they crawled out from and whatever else might threaten our lands. Let it be so.”

“Let it be so!” All those present said at once.

While many details would have to be gone over before an official public announcement could be made, what could not be denied was that this day history was made.

The Alliance of Lordaeron had been born.

---

“Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting that today,” Alonsus couldn’t help but chuckle as he and his student returned to the privacy of his office back at the Cathedral.

There was still much for the Council to talk about, but for now, it was mostly things outside of what the Church could offer.

Alonsus did emphasize that the upcoming war would push all men to their limits in terms of talent, courage, and resolve, but he was confident that the Holy Light would be with them. He gave them his blessing upon the newly formed Alliance and pledged the Church of the Holy Light to the cause of the Alliance in any way they could. He also promised to help raise funs for Stormwind's restoration once the crisis had been dealt with.

“I deeply apologize for my actions and any embarrassment I put on the Church, your holiness,” Turalyon deeply apologized to his master.

“Do you?” he simply asked.

There was silence for several moments.

“...No, I truly don’t,” Turalyon admitted.

“Good,” Alonsus praised his student. “You did what you felt had to be done, what was right, and clearly the Light agreed and helped you in your foolishly brave endeavor.”

“I simply said what had to be said,” Turalyon tried to downplay his actions.

“You acted when you saw the suffering of another, moved without thinking to do the right thing, and the Light rewarded you for your efforts by inspiring all that heard you the truth of your words,” Alonsus said with a proud smile. “There will still be much work to do and feathers to unruffle once they are no longer affected by the Light’s grace, but I believe that it will be much easier now that they understand the stakes. You’ve done more to represent what the Church is about this day than I’ve done during my whole time as Archbishop.”

“Your holiness! I would never say—” Turalyon tried to disagree with his master.

“Well… maybe just a bit less now that I think about it more,” Alonsus corrected himself with a smirk.

At those words Turalyon’s worry evaporated immediately, replaced with mirth as both men started laughing outright.

Soon the laughter faded, replaced once more with duty and resolve.

“This war will be unlike anything mankind has faced since the Troll Wars, maybe even greater than that,” Alonsus reminded his student. “The Church is ill-equipped to face such a challenge head on… as our brothers of the Northshire Abbey unfortunately learned, may the Light watch over them.”

“Let the Light guide their souls,” Turalyon returned. “But the Church has other strengths, we’ve never been warriors but healers to all those in need.”

“Yes, we are, but there are times when a healer must take up the sword to protect those same people in need. The Light encourages us to grow and improve, and sometimes change entirely if the need is great. A warrior can still call upon the Light to watch them in battle, so why can’t that be so in truth?” Alonsus pondered aloud.

“You holiness?” Turalyon asked curiously.

“I’ve had a number of illuminating conversations with a newly made friend who’s shown great interest, and dare I say potential, in channeling the Light. Mayhaps the Light itself guided him and those with him here for a reason. I cannot say for certain, but I like to believe so,” Alonsus went on to explain before heading over to his desk and picking up a bound scroll. “It has led to an… extreme idea that might change the Church forever, but one I think will be needed. I plan to go over it with the Supreme Commander, though he knows it not yet, after the public announcement of the Alliance is made. From there… who knows, but I believe the Light will support us.”

“What idea, your holiness?” Turalyon asked directly.

“One that I hope you will take part of, my apprentice. You and those like you who are driven to do what is true and right,” Alonsus explained.

Turalyon needed to hear no other words to convince him.

“You will have my support,” he replied earnestly.

“At least hear about my idea before agreeing outright!” Alonsus said in faux shock. “Must I fear for your coin purse when you walk through the market each day?!”

“Only if a pretty smile asks for it,” Turalyon replied with a smirk.

Once more both men laughed, comfortable in each other’s presence and that of the Light.

For it was for moments such as this that Turalyon fought.