I know, I know, I have like 4 stories unfinished. But I can't help it! The plot bunnies! Their attacking! AAA! They made me start this story when the idea popped into my head. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! As always, I appreciate reviews and tips! And I own nothing! Well, except all the original characters that I can come up with. If I did own things, Wrathgate would never ever have happened! *cries*
Hoping you all got to 80!
teawithsilk
Chapter One
Stormwind was silent. Everything was drenched in night. As he looked into the canal, he could see himself staring back. His face was tired and dark circles framed his eyes. He shouldn't be out right now. The man had served his shift and the alarm seemed faker and falser with every passing minute.
Giles took a deep breath and turned away from his reflection. He hadn't looked like himself since the fall of Capital City. His light brown fringy hair fell lazily into his line of vision as he reluctantly continued along his patrol. There was no way the Horde had made their way into Stormwind tonight. The Alliance capital was at peace and maintained the comforting mundane feeling that the city possessed. The white walls were dulled by night, glinting here and there where a flaming torch glowed in its oranges and reds. Giles told himself again that nothing at all could be inside Stormwind that did not belong there.
He walked a few feet, and quickly lost his sense of purpose. Giles let himself lose his alert, commanding stance and rubbed his eyes when sleep started to cloud his mind. The man let the pieces of his armor clatter against each other. Shutters were closed against their windows, doors were securely locked and fastened. Stormwind was mocking him. The city was asleep and peacefully so. He began to doubt if any other guards were up. It could be another prank by the general. Jonathan had been in an odd mood lately.
A brushing sound floated down from the roof of a nearby house. Giles blinked and wheeled around to face the building. He must be hearing things. Nothing was there. The roof was completely uniform and deserted, just as it should be. The guard cleared his throat nervously and jogged into Old Town proper. He would head to the keep. He would keep the king safe.
Giles smiled slightly as he entered the ancient section of Stormwind under a white archway. Old Town would be a safe place to cross through. Even though the entire city was safe, of course. The red roofs calmed him slightly as he pictured his own home nestled within Old Town. He jogged past a closed weapons shop and looked down a small street that led to a few houses. His heart pounded wildly as he thought he heard a quiet feminine sigh. Giles felt cold sweat pour down his forehead. He knew he was losing it. If he couldn't see the Horde, then they weren't there.
Past raids had been chaotic and wild. The Horde couldn't change from frenzied to invisible in one movement. No one could. A shadow sprinted across the top of a building. Its posture was hunched and its armor was not bulky enough to be plate or mail. As quickly as it came, it disappeared. Giles collapsed against the cold rock wall. There was something here. He drew his sword out of his scabbard. The guard flattened himself alongside the building's face. His city needed to be defended.
No enemy could set foot inside the Alliance's shining capital. "Come out and face me, heathen," Giles growled.
A woman appeared out of thin air before him. "With pleasure."
With a clatter, his sword dropped out of palm and onto the ground. He blinked a few times and shut his eyes for a few moments. Giles opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.
The forsaken rogue eyed him with glowing, golden orbs. She smiled dangerously and ran a gloved finger along the blade of her dagger. "Long time, no see, brother."
"Muriel……Muriel…Darrowshire? How did you escape?"
Deathstalker Muriel Warryn took a long look at her brother. She didn't remember him as being this stupid. The rogue looked down at her grey-purple skin and back at Giles. "Does it look like I escaped, brother?"
Giles creased his brow and threw his head back. He couldn't kill his own sister. He fought for his lost sister. He lived for the dead Muriel. "What do I do, Muriel? I can't harm you."
She vanished in front of him. A voice whispered in his ear from behind, "I'm glad. I was dreading a skirmish."
His eyed widened. A white hot pain erupted from where his sister had struck the back of his neck. Giles Warryn of the Stormwind guard was not going to rise anytime soon.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Everything was going exactly as planned. Aelis couldn't help but smile. His guild had breached the defenses of the glorious Stormwind city. And now, as he stood victoriously in a raised passage overlooking the keep, King Varian Wrynn would soon breathe his last breath.
The blood elf drew an arrow from the quiver and positioned himself to shoot it out the narrow, slit window. Once the guard felt threatened enough, they would move the king to a safer location. He fought back the urge to laugh. Wrynn and the visiting Highlord Fordragon would be shot dead. An arrow from the right side of the passage for Wrynn. An arrow on the left side for Fordragon.
Beneath him, the chaos was beginning. A few elite guards opened the doors from the outside, ushering in the king and the advisor. The young Anduin ran behind Varian, clutching his father's shirt. Aelis drew his bow back. From his angle, he could shoot Varian dead. And he tried.
A whizzing arrow flew down from Aelis' bow and lodged itself deep into the king's chest. Lord Bolvar had barely registered what happened when an identical arrow hit him in the back.
On the other side of the pass, Muriel had taken off at a sprint. This he knew. The elf looked down each of the sides of the passageway. He heard the footsteps already. It should take them at least seven minutes to reach his position, more than enough time to escape. Aelis gritted his teeth and grunted in anger. Either a guard had not been disposed of completely or someone on the inside had ratted them out. Heavy plate footsteps rattled up the steps and Aelis swore. Hiding himself wouldn't do any good at this point.
He felt physically ill as he unsheathed the poison coated dagger. The guild leader of the Tears of Nightfall would rather kill himself than be captured by the enemy. It was how he had risen to his position, and the one before him as well. Aelis breathed deeply and felt cold adrenalin run through his veins. This was how it ended. General Marcus Jonathan and a group of armed guards appeared at one end of the hall. Major Mattingly and the Field Marshal appeared at the other.
Aelis laughed at the humans. "You won't take me alive, Alliance dogs." He hesitated for a brief second before plunging his own dagger into his heart.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
The thirteen year old boy stared openmouthed at the scene before him. His mighty father laid vulnerable, unconscious, and bleeding a few feet before where he, himself stood. Lord Bolvar was grunting and healing himself already. Sentries were running madly up the stairs to where the arrows had been shot from. A man's screams radiated from the passage above them. It was utter chaos.
A few priests barreled into the small passage. Their white silk robes flew wildly in front of them, and their usually composed manner had been thrown out once they heard the situation. The two male priests seemed about the same age, with snowy uniform hair and trimmed beards. The other priestess, who seemed to be the males' superior, knelt down beside Varian. Her auburn hair was tied back hastily in a bun, and she let her eyes show how deep her heart was by the amount of emotion in them. Anduin had seen the woman before, yet he couldn't remember where.
"Losin, assist the Highlord. Sivian, help me." The priestess summoned the Light to heal the king. Her followers obeyed without hesitation. The man Anduin assumed to Losin gently placed a hand on Bolvar's shoulder and yanked the arrow out. Highlord Fordragon howled in pain, and set his eyes dejectedly on his king.
Seeing that Bolvar was going to be alright, the prince walked carefully over to him. "Is father going to be alright?"
Fordragon looked down at the boy and weakly smiled. He pulled Anduin roughly into his shoulder and led him back into Stormwind keep. "Your father is a strong man, Prince Anduin. If anyone could pull through, it would be him."
The boy took one last look at Varian before the paladin closed the door. His father had not moved at all.
Without a word of explanation, Bolvar sprinted up the stairs. Blood trickled out of the wound on his back, his left shoulder had been torn by the arrow. His arm was nearly limp by his side.
Anduin frowned and headed up the stairwell after the paladin. With each step, he started to dread more and more what he could possibly find. Nearing the top, Anduin paused and leaned against the wall. He balanced on the tips of his toes, his eyes barely reaching above the top step. The prince stayed silent, letting the general and Fordragon deal with this uninterrupted.
"Is he the one that shot Varian?"
The general looked down at the figure and the back up at Bolvar. Anduin squinted to make out the figure. The two men were crouched on the ground on either side of a motionless assassin. Anduin couldn't see the assassin's face, but his legs and lower midriff were visible from his angle. With a growing sense of urgency, Anduin quietly ascended to the top.
To his surprise, his father's assassin was a sin'dorei not one of the Defias who had taken his father away from him in the past. Fordragon was crouched over him with a look of unadulterated hatred. An emotion Anduin knew him not to possess. Since the Great Plate Wall of Fordragon was still somewhat blocking his view of the sin'dorei, it was of great shock to Anduin when the elf suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream and as Bolvar pulled his hand back a dagger rested in it. The blade was covered in fresh, crimson blood.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
"Coris….." A figure jumped through the open window. It melded into the shadows and looked around the room. The mage was gone. He thinned his lips and grabbed a candlestick off of the bed table. "She betrayed us…" In his anger, he whipped the brass candlestick at the wall.
Navilien sat down in the chair at the end of the bed. He had never expected Coris to be the deceiver. The short, intellectual mage was always on time and punctual. She always acquired the information she needed. There was never a time he doubted her credibility. Navilien whispered to himself, "Until now."
The news of Aelin's suicide had spread like wildfire amongst the raiding population of his guild. Muriel had only told him and a few trusted others about Aelis. When he found out who had broken the silence, he would see that they paid.
Lost in his own thought Navilien didn't hear the footsteps behind him. He felt the cold dagger against his neck before he knew there was anyone else there. "Why are you here? What has happened to Aelis?"
He flared his nostrils at the voice. Coris. She had been in the room the entire time. "You betrayed us. How long? Months? Weeks?"
"I really don't know what you are speaking of." Coris tilted her head and laughed. "I bet you're the one who sold Aelis out." She pressed the blade ruthlessly into his neck. "Give me one reason not to kill you right now."
Navilien grunted as blood started to trickle down his neck. He had to act quickly or not at all. "One reason?" The rogue turned sharply, twisting himself out from under the dagger. He unsheathed his own blade and pinned Coris against the wall. "There's one reason. You can't kill me."
Coris gasped as Navilien's hold on her wrist tightened. Out of anybody, he should know she was innocent. Navilien glared at her with a nasty gleam in his eye. "Why shouldn't I kill you?"
Coris treated him to an equally nasty stare. "You love me."
The rogue instantly released her. "Wha-"
Seizing her chance, Coris punched him hard across the face. She closed her eyes and an icy mist formed around her hands. Chains of ice secured Navilien to the floor. He had still been recovering from Coris' blow. The rogue groaned and tried in vain to move his leather-clad body. "Now, seeing as we both need answers, let's join up." She eyed Navilien, and he stared back at her silently. "You are in no position to argue."
She had said that he loved her. How could she say that? "How can I argue?! I'm frozen!"
"Agreed." Coris set herself beside the rogue. She kicked his knee suddenly to see how strong the bonds were. Coris laughed at his surprise but became solemn almost instantly. "Do we know for a fact that Aelis is dead?"
Navilien sighed. "No. Muriel heard him scream and she knew that's where the Royal Guard was headed. She assumed he took his own life. It's guild rule."
Coris raised her eyebrow. "So if he didn't succeed in fully killing himself, Stormwind presumably is holding him?" She leaned back on the leg of her desk. "A scream and footsteps isn't much to go on."
The rogue's eyes lost all emotion. He had never thought of that possibility. "If my brother is a prisoner of Stormwind, I will do anything to free him."
With a flash, Coris freed Navilien of the ice. "You know I am loyal to your cause. If I can be of any help, let me know."
Navilien nodded and propped himself up on his elbows. He gazed at Coris. Without warning, he pulled the human mage into a kiss.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Muriel felt sick for the first time since she had awoken in the crypt. She didn't know if it was possible for undead to be ill, but she was. An orc she had met once or twice was trying his best to comfort her. And honestly, she was close to snapping at him. Aelis was the only one who could make her feel better. Apparently, the rest of the guild had already figured this out. They were keeping at least a few yards away.
"Calm down, Muriel." The orc's deep voice rang out in the silent guild hall. "Aelis wouldn't want you to be like this."
Muriel didn't look up or react in any way. She stayed sitting on the stone wall along the aisle in the abandoned necromancy school. The orc's gruff, raspy voice didn't compare to Aelis' smooth, pleasant one. The forsaken pushed her long, albeit dead and scratchy, brown hair out of her face. Her skin was grey and cold as she strapped her bracers back on and stood suddenly. Without a word, she strode over to the tunnel connecting the guild hall to the Undercity.
"Muriel! Where are you going!?" The orc made a move to follow her but a conscientious priest stopped him.
Muriel would have to speak to her Deathstalkers about Aelis. As she took a necromancy book from a bookshelf, a stone block rose from the floor. "Muri, why are you going to the Undercity?"
Coris and Navilien appeared out of a portal. The mage fished a flask out of her skirts and started to drink. She seemed tired by the spell. "I am sorry, Muriel. There is still hope for your Aelis. No proof of his death was recovered."
Navilien gave Coris a look. That was not the best thing to say to her. She would only worry. "We need to discuss things. Come, Muri."
Muriel turned her head to the side to see the pair from the corner of her eye. Sighing, she spun fully to face them. "I have serious business in the Undercity. It will have to wait." The rogue exchanged glances with Navilien and Coris. "I have no claims on the leadership of this guild. I am not suited for it, you know that. Navilien, my vote lies with you." Muriel twisted back towards the tunnel and began the trek to the Undercity.