Dislcaimer: I do claim any rights to anything pertaining to Warcraft. All of those belong to Blizzard Entertainment. I only thought of the plot and any new characters! This also might be considered AU as it's elements that happened after Tides of War.

Prologue:

Her body was suspended in mid-air. Blinding purple light surrounded her, and the severe ringing in her ears caused her a dark sense of sensory deprivation. There was only a sense of nothingness. Darkness swallowed her whole, no light at the end of the tunnel, no happy ending.

As if knowing she was hoping for the end, an unbearable pain tore through her body. It felt as if her limbs were all being tugged in opposite directions, tendons, ligaments, tissues all being torn into pieces. Thousands of small sewing needles seemed to be injecting themselves into every open pore on her face, arms, legs, and then a scream escaped her mouth, but no sound came out. It seems there was just a vacuum of pain around her.

Almost in an instant, though, it was gone. She pushed herself off the ground, her hands sinking into the puddle of mud she landed in. The cool gel like feel felt refreshing after the ordeal she had just faced. Her arms and hands seemed burned, other minor cuts and scrapes also landscaping both of her appendages.

Tears had began pouring from her eyes, filling the pool of water beneath her. As the tears created small ripples she looked down at the reflection in the water. The girl's once royal features were tarnished by mud, soot, blood, and a deep gash that ran the length of her cheek. Her once golden hair that ran smoothly down her head was now the color of freshly fallen snow, a side-effect of the magic that had emanated from the explosion. It was also tangled mess of debris and blood, but down the center of her face a thin streak of golden hair remained, a reminder of a past gone.

Gently she used her muddy hand to push the hair behind her ear and placed her palm to her head trying to suppress the headache that was about to explode. "What happened?" she asked aloud, and as she lowered her hand and opened her eyes she realized all at once what had caused her pain.

There before her in a complete pile of rubble stood her once great city of Theramore. A purple haze covered the entire city almost illuminating its devastation against the now setting sun. Its once majestic towers were now nothing more than strewn piles of bricks that couldn't have been been put back together to help anything. The city's majestic archway had crumbled and with it, taken out the rickety wooden bridge that let visitors pass over the moat and enter the city.

The biggest change she noticed was the citizens, or lack thereof. The city normally overpowering with citizens gallivanting about. Everyone always stopping and greeting one another. Children playing in the streets, their laughter bringing joy to everyone. Now, though, everything was silent. Blood splattered the walls, vaporized bodies laid in piles of ash everywhere. Not a single soul was stirring in the city aside from her.

In an instant she remembered what happened. Garrosh had happened. He had come in and dropped a mana bomb on her and her people. Innocent people! Women and children that had no part in his damn crusade had been brought to their graves because of him. All the things she had worked so hard for. Her people's safety and their lives had all been ripped from them by the cowardice of the Horde. They could have attacked any fort in Azeroth to gain them footing in the war, but they didn't. Instead, their bastard warchief targeted an island full of innocents. Damn you, Garrosh! she thought.

All at once the image of her apprentice flooded her mind. She was a small gnome who always wore her bright pink hair in a ponytail, and although she was small her talent and heart were bigger than that of any monster she had ever seen. Kinndy, she thought. The girl had meant the absolute world to her. She had even tried to help her when the blue dragon, Kalecgos, had seemed to show interest in courting the young sorceress, as if it had gotten them anywhere after what he had done. In a flash the image of seeing her obliterated by the magic, her tiny frail body crumbling to ash from being so close to the explosion, flashed across her mind. Her heart snapped to pieces, hot tears pouring down her face like a waterfall.

Rhonin. The thought hit her faster and harder than a slowly thought out pyroblast. A man she had looked up to, respected, and at times even learned from. A family man that , even though he was the leader of an entire city of magi, would drop everything if it meant saving them. He had showed up in the nic of time and confined the area of the mana bomb explosion, and he had saved her life. Why though? Now I have to live with this! How am I even going to look Vareesa in the face? Why, Rhonin, why did you do it? More and more tears poured from her body almost changing the level of puddle she was seated in. A scream escaped her lips. A scream of pure anguish and hatred that bounced off every single tree and piece of shrubbery around amplifying it causing it to become so loud the Eastern Kingdoms could have felt it.

Ice started to flow a storm around her hands. Her screams chilled her more than ice ever could have. The storm flowed more and more, enveloping her very person. Suddenly she raised both fists in the air and brought them crashing into the mud. The ground exploded into a a violent storm of ice. Everything within a few miles solidified into a shiny sheet of metallic ice.

Slowly she stood up and pushed her hair out of her face. She placed her hand out and in it appeared her large crystalline staff. "I'm coming for you, Garrosh! You and your Horde will be buried beneath my fury!" she screamed at the top of her lungs to the sky.

Rubble fell behind her, and she spun around. A lone pebble bounced around, but there was nothing there. How do I do it, though? How can I fare against a Warchief and his entire army? She thought about the Focusing Iris that was in Dalaran. Her mind opened up to the place as she prepared to teleport when the crack of a branch snapped her out of the spell.

"Good evening, Lady Proudmoore. I see you appear to be having quite the night," the person spoke.

The voice chilled her more than all the ice around that she had caused. As she opened her eyes, she was met with a specter from her past. He stood almost seven feet tall, but he wasn't standing more so than simply levitating of the ground, a light mist permeating from all around his body. He wore odd ceremonial robes that were placed about his figure oddly as his entire outside was simply his skeletal structure. Jaina breathed as her hand started to glow red, "Ah, Kel'Thuzad. You've met me at the worst possible time."

He laughed, frost spouting from where his jaw was "I am not here as your enemy, mage. I see what they've done, and you and I seek the same thing. We seek the destruction of the Horde."

"Why would I ever," she replied the fire intensifying in her hand, "join forces with you? What do you know?"

Kel'Thuzad answered, "Remember when I told you my death would mean little?" He shrugged, his skeletal fingers pointing to everything around him.

The fire in Jaina's hand began to die down, and she peered at him. What if he was the key to taking down Garrosh and the Horde?