Prologue.

This is my first fanfic, so be gentle.

This will follow the adventures of my mage Zephirex(slightly different name in the story) from 1-90. Eversong to Pandaria. Some zones will not be in this, I may do a few battlegrounds, and there will be the changing of Warchief from Thrall to Garrosh.

This does begin in TBC so there will probably not be any raids aside from The frozen throne, Deathwing, and maybe some MoP raids.

T-T = Chapter beginning and end

X-X = Line breaks

Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft or anything related. However I do own Gaelik and Salois. They're my babies.

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Gaelik looked out across the landscape and sighed. It was a beautiful day, but he couldn't enjoy it. He was bound to his duty, and it kept him from his wife and young toddler. He was a mage of amazing prowess, sitting on one of the seven spots of the Convocation of Silvermoon. For now he was resigned to arguing about the growing threat of the trolls to the south.

His good friend Dar'Khan Drathir was pleading his case to their High Elven leader. Anasterian Sunstrider however, was quite stubborn when he was in a corner. "Lord Sunstrider! Surely you see the threat that this Horde represents to Quel'Thalas!"

Anasterian was a firm believer in Elven superiority. To send resources to deal with what he considered lesser races was an affront to his beliefs. Why after all should he be fighting a war of men? "This 'Horde' is nothing but an alliance of primitive mongrels! With our knowledge of the arcane and our runestone barrier they stand no chance against our armies! There will be no further resources sent to the Alliance of Humans. That is the end of this discussion. The Convocation is dismissed."

Finally this pointless meeting was over and Gaelik could go home. All he had to do was finish conjuring this portal to his village and everything would be fine. However, before the portal could be finished, a Farstrider scout who was too loud for his own good barged in and relayed his message to everyone in a mile radius.

"Lord Sunstrider! Lord Sunstrider! Alleria Windrunner has returned! The Horde marches upon our lands!"

Gaelik could feel smugness oozing from Dar'Khan. OF course he would be right. His friend, while a childhood companion, could be a right bastard when he proved someone wrong.

Lord Anasterian looked as though he had been struck. His face quickly twisted with rage. "This will not stand! The seven of you know your roles! Mobilize our forces at once! Quel'Thalas will go to war!"

It seemed his family would have to wait for a while indeed. Seven tears were ripped with arcane might simueltaneously. Through them the seven High Elven magisters of the Convocation of Silvermoon stepped. The Second war had begun for the elves.

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Fifteen years after the End of the Second War

Here they were so many years later. Though many council meeting had happened since then, this was the first of urgency since the day the Second War had begun. Four of their own were dead. Slain by the undead scourge that was tearing it's way into the heart of their glorious woodlands. They had ,however, gone down fighting. Legions of undead were obliterated by the arcane power the magisters wielded before they were brought down. Precious time was bought by each one of the brave souls. Now it was time to decide who next, would hold the line.

Anasterian looked grim. He knew that his people were all but doomed. He had sent one of his seven, Gaelik Dawnrunner, to get as many of his people to the safety of the Northern Isle as possible. The city of Silvermoon was currently being attacked on every front by the Scourge. Their majestic Sunwell was guarded only by himself and two of his seven select Magisters. Dar'Khan Drathir and Salois Lightwall were all that stood for the Scourge to devour.

The Lord of Silvermoon smiled grimly at their fate. Maybe they deserved it after the pain they had wrought throughout time. The smile quickly turned to a frown. In his peripheral vision, Anasterian watched Salois jerk; he was dead before he hit the floor.

"Dar'Kh-!" Distractions, a roar, a runeblade. Anasterian looked down to find his chest pierced by the wicked blade of Frostmourne. The Scourge assassin that had made his way into the room had cast a silencing spell upon his ears. The days of fatigue and no sleep finally caught up to him. He never heard as Arthas blew the door apart with unholy energy and ran him through. His soul stayed attached, through sheer force of will, long enough to see and hear Dar'Khan being slain as well

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The portal to the Northern Isles

This was all they had left. All the elves that remained were evacuated. Gaelik was now charged with erasing the rip in space here, and makign sure they couldn't be tracked. Easy enough considering his brothers were being slaughtered miles away. Gaelik's face turned sour, they were giving their lives as time for the rest of them. The last vanguard of Silvermoon knew they would not see tomorrow, and still they stayed. As the only member of the Convocation with a child, Gaelik was spared this fate. Though he wished to be with his brothers in glorious battle.

Something wasn't quite right with his task. Dar'Khan had relayed his orders, telling him that Lord Sunstrider had set up a forward command post near an old ruined village further south. Why he had picked such an unseemly place Gaelik didn't know. Why he was going on the offensive when his people were being slaughtered was also a good question. He was bound to his Lord in honor however, so he would follow his orders. With a quick look around and a shudder of uneasiness his task was done, and Gaelik Dawnrunner teleported to his doom.

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Unkown Village in the Blackened Woods

As soon as he stepped onto the other side of his portal he knew something was wrong. The stench hit first, the smell of decay overwhelmed him and brought tears to the corners of his eyes. The sights hit a second later, and he was frozen in place. His fellow Magisters, Dar'Khan and Salois were crucified on either side of their beheaded Lord, whose head was speared upon a pike. Quickly regaining his senses, he felt a swarm of undead around him. He would not go down without a fight. A roar that ripped through the very barrier of their runestones emitted from his palms. The arcane was his weapon, and he was a masterful user of his old friend.

The skeletons came first, but were quickly struck down by blades of pure magic. The ghouls were next, and they met a similar fate. Gaelik knew he couldn't fight like this forever. Already hundreds of skeletons and dozens of ghouls were fallen around him. They were endless. He conjured images of himself to fight alongside him, but they quickly fell without his battle instincts. With a well of energy, he unleashed an explosion of the arcane, felling all the undead within a hundred yards.

It was eerily silent now, but he felt an overwhelming presence. The death knight, Arthas, was here. He had brought another as well. Ice swirled around his fingers, and was let loose in a bolt of energy at the companion. Gaelik could only look in horror as Sylvannas, the Ranger General, batted away the bolt with her ghastly bow. Arthas, clad in his ghoulish plate armor, could only cackle as he approached the tired Elf.

"It seems you are as great as they say Gaelik Dawnrunner. A mage to rival the best of the Kirin Tor. Certainly the best your petty Convocation had to offer. I'm afraid you will be of no use to me in undeath. With such power you could break free of my will, and enjoy immortality to hunt me. No, you must die here, and your friend will be your executor." His words, like his frosty blade cut into Gaelik. As Dar'Khan rose up surrounded by necromantic energies, the tiring elf summoned up the last of his strength. A barrage of energy flew at Dar'Khan's 'corpse' and burst through it, hitting Sylvannas as it passed.

"Using the last of your energy to try and prevent your friend from serving me? It was a good effort, but he has been my minion for many months now. It was he who killed your friend Salois, and helped me to murder your 'Lord'. All for the chance to rule the broken pieces of your people. Now bow to me Dawnrunner, embrace your death." The last thing Gaelik saw was the flash of frozen steel. Then the emptiness of his soul being drained away. The last of the Convocation had fallen. The kingdom of Quel'Thalas was no more.

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