More time passed, the Iron Horde fell, and we returned to Azeroth, leaving those we trusted in charge of what were more or less my new Lands in the alternate timeline of Draenor, our oldest child, Leon who we had adopted very long ago at this point had come into manhood and married his first love, a Panderan Girl named Lei, the two went off and had adventures of their own, I continued to serve the Horde, and the other children grew and lived their lives, not much of true note occurred, the average mortal life in a world constantly in danger from some God, Demon, or Insane Madman wanting power.
It was not until the last battle with a Demon Army, known as Burning Legion the same Demonic army who had created the scourge that had destroyed the lands I grew up in decades ago, a Demonic army that chased Cyliory's people across the Multiverse itself for thousands of years, those same demons assulted Azeroth, It was the final battle for the fate of the World I had grown up on, The Alliance and Horde working together with the Dragons, The Panderan, The Demi-gods that walked Azeroth, and I helped to Lead the Horde Forces in the Jade forest, In my time there I had effectively brought the Village of Shri-La into the horde proper, We faced Gigantic Pit Lords, Succubi who enchanted Men and Women alike, Fel Hounds, and Undead Legions much like the ones before.
Late into the war the Legion advanced hard, pushing to the last lines of Defenses that we had around Shri-la, to the point where I had to order the Evacuation of the Village in a retreat to take us deeper inland to a place that would be more defensible, It was in defending the Civillains as they evacuated that I ascended to True Planeswalkerhood, as well as lost the only true home I had ever known.
Cyliory and I were in the flanking guard of the Refugees, making sure that the lines were secure from an assault when it came, Warlocks, Bat Winged Demons known as Nazeriem, and Undead Dragons Raised from the Corpses of the Dragons who fell in Defense of Azeroth assaulting all at once, I commanded the Villagers to run, splitting the guard into 3, one to keep up with the healthy who could run on their own, those who would ride with the Wagons that were carrying the Old, the Sick and the Young, as well as families who did not want to be separated, and those of us who would hold the line, buying as much time for the others as we fell back bit by bit.