Scarred by Fel, warped by the old gods of the void, and flowing with arcane the titan soul of Azeroth slept in a tormented reality of loneliness. Until one day a child christened with the name Hadrian awoke in the tower of Kharazan to live with those who had protected him in his slumber. With his origin unknown to him he will unknowingly be the key to stopping…..
With the fluttering of his eyes Hadrian awoke in a bed far too comfortable to be the one he sleeps in the cupboard every night. Eyes widening in surprise he quickly lifts himself to see that he is indeed not under the stairs but in a luxurious suite of some sorts. Flowers filled the room with a soft fragrance and silk surrounded him in a sweet embrace.
'Where am I?' thought Hadrian, or less formally known as Harry.
Getting out of the bed and walking towards fluttering drapes that blocked the view of the balcony. Hadrian froze at the site of mountains that pierced through the clouds and a forest that was larger than any he had ever seen. In fact, he had never seen a sight so breath taking, so foreign from his urban life, and yet so familiar to him.
The land seemed to call to him and Hadrian found himself leaning over the edge of the balcony trying to see every bit of it he could. A childish smile of awe adorned his face as he gazed contently at the landscape.
"It is so good to see you awake my Lord" a throaty voice behind him addressed.
Braking out of his reverie Hadrian turned around to see a man kneeling before him. His face was shrouded by the hair that covered his bent neck.
"Who are you?" Hadrian asked.
"I am Moroes my Lord, keeper of the this Tower. And we are all so thrilled to have you with us" he said enthusiastically before standing up to reveal his pale decomposed face. "We shall hold a feast unlike any other that has ever graced these halls tonight"
Horrified at seeing an undead, like those the Dursely family use to watch, Hadrian brought his arms up and yelled "Get away!"
Causing a burst of powerful arcane energy to blast the undead through Hadrian's bed. Not sure what had just happened or what was happening in general Harry ran out the open-door way the undead had entered and began to run down the halls.
Running, running, running Hadrian found only room after room with no one inside and nowhere to go. Soon the out of breath and scared young boy couldn't help but let tears of glistening arcane filled tears slip down his face.
'Where am I!' he thought frustratingly.
A soft trill replied to his frustrations and creatures of arcane magic began to shimmer into existence. Soothing Hadrian with their presence and licking the rich arcane magic from his tears.
"Can you guys help me?"
A trill from all three of the arcane wyrms was his response and with a slow pace they guided him through the labyrinth of halls and toward wing of the tower filled with machines of all kind.
Some released steam, others seemed to float in the wind, a few cleaned the flawless marble that filled this wing, and many could he could not place what they did. But they had a purpose none the less.
The Wyrms pushed him further and further into the wing and showed him the intricacies of this magical place. He discovered floating balls of magical light, flowers that grew on the metal plates of some constructs. And finally, the Wyrms brought him to a huge humanoid machine, larger than any other he had seen previously, that laid dark and dormant in the vibrant hall.
The wyrms trilled as they floated around and above the construct almost as if asking for him to take some sort of action. Prodding and poking the construct all he could Hadrian could do nothing to the cold metal construct. Out of Idea's Hadrian was about to move on until he saw the wyrms try to use their magic to start the machine. Only for them to fail as their arcane energy dissipated within the hollow frame of the construct.
"Oh" Hadrian voiced out loud. And brought his right hand to the constructs knee before he stopped and tried to remember the feeling of the magic he had used earlier. Expect instead blowing the construct away like he had with the undead he wanted his magic to pursue a less destructive path.
'Wake up' Harry willed. Causing a small strand of his magic to seep out of the top of his hand and slowly make its way towards the metal of the construct. And once it did arcane energy rushed through the machine bringing to life all its intricate components and mechanisms. As if surprised to be awake the construct turned its head left, right, and even all the way around to analyze where it was. Before finally resting its gaze at the small child in front of it, the child whose arcane signature was perplexingly unreadable to the advanced sensors of the construct.
'Can I help you my Lord?' asked the large machine. Its magical energy seemed to flow in and out of its construct in a dazzling display of power.
'Where am I?' Hadrian asked back in reply.
'The tower of Kharazan, built by the Archmage Aegwynn with….." on and on the machine drabbled the history of the tower and recited the many conflicts that had taken place within its halls.
Hadrian asked many questions about this world, its people, and the magic of it all. Never once asking about where he was in relation to Great Britain, that place held no special place in his heart after all.
'And what's your name?' Hadrian asked the construct.
'I'm called the Curator. I protect and watch over this menagerie my Lord, or I did until some time ago when I had been defeated and put into deep stasis until you revived me' gratefulness seeped through the constructs words and visibly caused little Hadrian to blush in response.
'It's nothing' Hadrian replied while looking away from the machine. To embarrassed to look it optical arcane eye to eye.
A chiming robot helicopter of sorts floated towards the Curator and looked as if it were going to blow into a million pieces. But instead it glowed with soft rays and conveyed a message for the giant metal construct.
'Of course. How unaware of time I have been' said the Curator to the flying robot.
'Come my Lord I will of course escort you personally' the machine said before making its way down the hall leaving his charge to escort standing in the hall confused.
"Where are we going?" Hadrian asked aloud, his voice cracking from disuse. Getting no reply, he just decided to follow the machine and stay within its guardian presence. They traveled a fair bit of time before finally coming upon a grand wooden doorway which the Curator easily opened for the young Lord.
Revealing a great hall filled with fragrant aromas, soft music from floating magical instruments, and the form a butler now wearing an elegant silver mask.
"Moroes, I've brought our Lord as requested" the Curator.
"It is Lord Hadrian Curator. Do not address the one who can bring back even you so indignantly" Moroes said before a mana wyrm came up to be petted by the undead's now gloved hand.
"Thank you for watching over him Emilia" said the undead before handing the mana wyrm a small glowing crystal as a treat, that soon rapidly devoured.
Taking a step behind the Curator, Hadrian attempted to hide himself from gaze of what he now knew was the undead he had attacked earlier.
"Please Lord Hadrian there is nothing to be afraid of within these walls. Nothing in Kharazan under my watch would dare attempt to harm you." The masked undead said as he took a knee "You the lord above all other lords of this tower, nay, this very world. I will see to it that your every desire is fulfilled and any wish you have is turned into reality."
Confused but very convinced by the undead's speech Hadrian did leave the Curator shadow and took a step forward.
"Forgive my lack of foresight I forgot the reaction the living has upon seeing my flesh. I will not make such a mistake again. I promise you" Moroes said before standing and pulling out a chair at the head of the table.
Taking that as his que to sit Hadrian sat upon the rich leather chair and immediately saw that he was far too short to properly eat from the table. And as if a culmination of events had imploded upon one another the music in the room stopped and time itself seemed to almost stop.
Moroes stood frozen like the corpse he was unable to comprehend how such a simple mistake was made. Everything seemed lost in that instant until the Curator grabbed the chair and lifted it so that Hadrian was at the perfect height to enjoy his meal on the table.
And the music played once again filling the hall with cheer.
"The beef today was brazed in the finest mixture of herbs for nearly six hours within a clay pot made by the great Neltharion the Earth-Warder" Moroes said expecting an amazed expression from his Lord. But Hadrian new little of this world, only what little the Curator had told him.
His undead palms became sweaty.
Grabbing a pitcher from the table Moroes poured water from such a height and angle that it sparkled in Hadrian's eyes "This is water from the prized well of eternity, so rare that kingdoms would wage war over even the smallest of drops"
Looking at the water in his glass Hadrian could see that it did sparkle, and taking a sip of the liquid was quite refreshing if a little odd in its tingling after taste. But again, no real outward sign of awe.
Moroes' undead mouth became dry.
"Try this my lord it is a wine made from the sweet berries grown by the Sunwell and aged for 10,000 years"
Taking of sip of the wine Hadrian made a face of distaste at the drink.
Moroes' vision blacked for a moment.
Looking around the delightfully presented foreign foods Hadrian could not see anything that looked like what he was use to until his eyes rested upon a small pastry hidden behind some wild pig like creature.
"Can I have some of that?" Hadrian asked pointing at a small pastry. Stopping Moroes from grabbing the ice cream that had been churned with the ice from the frozen spire of the Lich king.
"O-of Course my Lord. Treacle Tart made from the golden syrup of the vale of eternal blossoms" Moroes said as he presented the desert.
Taking a bite of the sweet pastry Hadrian smiled wide and radiantly warming the entire room with his happiness.
"Thank you" Hadrian said smilingly before continuing to eat his treacle tart. And with his Lord's attention on the tart Moroes clutched his unbeatting heart as it skipped a beat in relief.
With a quick signal to a ghost flying out of sight above his Lord Moroes ordered more of the pastry to quickly be made.
"Now not all you eat can be pastry my lord if I remember from during my time when I was alive a youngling needs to eat from the dirt, or was it from the dirt's riches. It was a very long time ago"
And as Moroes continued to serve Hadrian dish after dish the Curator still held strong to the wooden chair.
Being tucked into a new bed in a slightly less grand room within Kharazan Hadrian watched as Moroes fluffed his pillows and brought down the magical lights. Leaving only the candle the caretaker was holding to light the room.
"I'm sorry Moroes" Hadrian whispered loud enough for the undead to hear.
Patting the new bed in recognition that he understood what Hadrian meant Moroes walked over to the door and bowed.
"I am undead to serve my Lord. Until my next living breath" the caretaker said humorously
"Good night Hadrian"
And with that the undead closed the door leaving Hadrian in his room, lit only by the glowing moonlight outside his windows.
'Until your next living breath' Harry thought as he drifted into sleep and brought an end to the most ridiculous day that he had ever had.
A/N: Thanks for taking the time to check this small work out :)