The earth trembled as the ancient trees in the enchanted forest were uprooted and toppled. The groves and glades tended by the sons and daughters of Cenarius and the stone towers of the children of the stars were brought to the rolling ground. There was our queen, radiant even in the desperation, in the chaos that was the battles. The enchanted sky changed colors with the discharge of magic, with the explosions that threatened to tear the world asunder.

Brother fought brother. Chosen fought

blessed. It was not all the Highborne that fought. Some stood, transfixed, as the madness took them. Mighty cities and humble towns alike were felled around them.

In Ameth'Aran, all was in ruins, its people clinging to the ground as though that might spare them from the destruction. It was then that Athrikus Narassin, favored of Azshara appeared to guide them to safety.

With a spell he could protect them, he would say. While around them, brother and sister, father and mother perished,

they would have life eternal, and have naught to fear from the Sundering that was to come...