Hey everyone, this is my first fanfic so please bear with me when it comes to formatting issues and the like. I hope you enjoy.
Anduin Wrynn didn't even flinch as the world around him shook. He'd been in plenty of exploding buildings as of late, and he was used to the sensation. Guards shouted and the air hummed with magic as the mages powered up. Commander Bloodfang issued orders, sending squads of men to the door to be nothing more than cannon fodder. They would be through the palace gates soon enough. All of them were dead.
He screwed his eyes shut as the voices wracked his brain, fighting for control. Just a few more moments, and they would be gone. He would not let them win. He opened his eyes, control reestablished. The king returned to his book.
Anduin wrote feverishly; his work was nearly finished. He had never been a warrior, nor a powerful leader of men. But this book would be his greatest achievement. He had witnessed the end, and those who came after could know what had happened. Perhaps they would find a solution where he had not. Anduin heard Bloodfang pad over to him, sniffing loudly. The grizzled Worgen peeked over his shoulder.
"Are you sure this is worth it, my king? Worth dying here, rather than even trying to live another day?"
"Worth every man here Bloodfang," Anduin replied sadly. "We're dead, no matter how long we run. I couldn't save Stormwind, or humanity. But the Codex will give our descendants a fighting chance."
Bloodfang nodded, seemingly satisfied. The old Worgen had been Anduin's closest companion since this had all begun. Each trusted the other with his life. "As foolish as this seems, I defer to your judgment. As always. If Sargeras truly does succeed at Nordrassil, then we wouldn't last long in any case. I can only hope that I take some of these bastards with me," he said, with his characteristic wolfish smile.
"I'm sure you'll fit in a few more good kills," Anduin saidm turning back to his book. His arm spasmed; he hid it from Bloodfang. The Worgen didn't need to know. After a moment, the attack subsided. He was back in control. Quill in hand, he returned to writing. He was placing the final words, which weren't words at all. The book had been completed for about an hour, but he was reinforcing it and enhancing it with every relevant spell he could think of. He was transcribing the final runes as a loud whoosh announced the opening of a portal.
Bloodfang was between him and the portal in an instant, longswords drawn. But Anduin was sure he knew who was coming. He waved the Worgen down as a red-faced soldier ran through the portal, which collapsed as soon as he exited. He bent over, panting, before gather his breath.
"My king," he said, clapping a hand to his breast. "They are safe. Your wife and son, along with the rest of the Vault. We've sealed it, and squadron eight is drawing the legion's hounds to Redridge. They'll be able to act as a decoy while the spell finalizes, and the Vault will be safe."
Anduin breathed a sigh of relief. He had expected success, but it was good to hear confirmation. He absently fingered his pendant. He and Dornaa had only been married a short time, but the thought of never seeing her again still tore at his heart. But they had both known the risks, and her survival was necessary for the discovery of the Codex.
"Thank you, soldier. It's good to hear some pleasant news for once." As if to argue Anduin's optimism, the castle rumbled again. Clouds of plaster fell downward, and the door audibly splintered. Bloodfang directed more to the gate, as if they could do anything. "I'm sorry you were the messenger," Anduin continued. "We won't last more than a few more minutes. At least it should be quick."
"My king, it's a true honor to fight and die at your side," the man protested fiercely. Anduin would have been convinced, if the man's fear wasn't so obvious in his eyes. But who would not fear the end of days?
"Good to hear soldier. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have something to attend to."
The soldier nodded, and Anduin inscribed the last rune. The book slammed shut of its own accord, and Anduin drew his knife. He cut a small slit in his thumb, pressing it into the book's cover. He murmured the Nathrezim spell, warding the Codex against almost anything. This was the most important part, and he was taking a massive risk with this extra precaution. But the book was now indestructible. The soldier gasped audibly, no doubt surprised to find out that the rumors that Anduin Wrynn was a bloodmage were true.
"Desperate times, soldier. Desperate times," Anduin said with a rueful grin and a shake of the head. The man only nodded. If only he knew the half of the things Anduin had learned. Forbidden knowledge had been pricey.
Suddenly, a roar shook the castle, as the doors were ripped off. Shouts and screams echoed from the door, and Bloodfang shouted for battle stations. Anduin's elite guard fanned out, surrounding him in a wall of steel. Paladins, warriors, and Death Knights stood before him, forming an impenetrable wall. Archers and gunmen circled behind him, preparing to unleash a barrage. Magic users readied their spells.
The moments crept by. Anduin found himself actually anticipating this. He wanted to see if it all worked. Sweat snaked down his back, and he his heart leapt to his throat as the first fleeing guard crossed the threshold into the fortified throne room. His face was a mask of pure terror, and he wasn't alone in this regard. Several more followed him, but they didn't make it very far.
Tendrils of shadow shot out, impaling each one. A few made grunts, but most couldn't register what happened before they died. They fell to the floor, spasming as the source of the magic strode into the room.
Mephistroph, leader of the Nathrezim, wore dark blue mage's war armor, his robes melding into nearly black plate armor. He wore a metal mask mimicking his skull like face, exaggerating his grotesque features. The tendrils of shadow connected to him, and his eyes showed a mirthless smile as he watched the men die. Two Wrathguards flanked him, and a legion of Felguards filed in behind. Anduin heard bowstrings tightening, guns cocking, spells readying, and weapons being drawn. Apparently unfazed, the dreadlord began to clap.
"Excellent work young Wrynn, truly excellent. You took quite a few of my legions with you here; I was almost challenged," Mephistroph said haughtily, his mask slowly turning to smoke to allow him to talk clearly. "Pity this was all so pointless. It might have made for a good story if there was anyone left to tell it."
"Glad to hear we made it worth your while Mephistroph. I'd express my condolences toward your being ignored by Sargeras yet again, but I don't like you and you don't deserve my pity."
Mephistroph snarled. "Ignored? I was the only one trusted to lead this assault! I will be-"
"Laughed at by the rest of the legion," Anduin finished for him. "You lost a large number of soldiers to take a small resistance, while the actual armies fight at Nordrassil."
"Silence you insolent boy!" the dreadlord commanded, all amused pretense gone. "Or did you not notice that you are about to die?"
"Oh I've noticed. But I aim to make it count."
Mephistroph spat, his faceguard beginning to reform. "Very well," he began, his voice now muffled. "We'll have some fun first. My wrathguards will face your bodyguard, just to warm everybody up."
Anduin didn't see what Mephistroph was getting at, but he nodded. Thomas Bloodfang could kill two wrathguards without looking. Bloodfang strode forward, sinking into a fighter's crouch. Mephistroph's guards wielded large halberds, giving them a terrifying reach. One charged and struck, but hit nothing.
Bloodfang drifted around them, faded into shadow. He had perfected the Worgen's Darkflight ability into a deadly maneuver. Bloodfang melded out of the shadows behind his opponents, and launched into a flurry of blows. His blades, swung with savage precision, rent the demons' armor wherever they landed.
They pivoted, seemingly unaffected, and attacked with more speed than Anduin would have thought possible with weapons that large. Bloodfang dodged and parried, turning their strikes away at the last possible moment each time. A snarl covered his face, and his single eye dodged wildly. Eventually, he made a mistake. He went to parry, and missed the angle by a margin. The wrathguard pressed his advantage, pushing Bloodfang off balance. He turned a fall into a dodge, and found himself pinned between two massive spears.
Anduin saw Mephistroph smile, but the fight hadn't even started. Before either could draw back for a strike, Bloodfang lashed out with both swords, sinking them into his assailants' hands. They roared in fury as he jerked the blades, opening ragged wounds, until he squeezed free.
Bloodfang dashed across the room, putting distance between him and the demons. They charged heedlessly, blinded by anger. Bloodfang hurled one of his swords, which flew like an arrow into a wrathguard's chest. He stumbled to his knees, howling, and Bloodfang dashed forward, jumping above the other's strike and landing on the fallen demon. He drove his free sword into its skull, the force of the impact driving the demon to the ground. Bloodfang ripped his blades free, and decapitated the demon.
Mephistroph looked anxious now, and Anuin smiled openly. The remaining demon didn't show any fear after the death of his comrade, and charged Bloodfang, spear set to impale the Worgen. Bloodfang snarled and charged, rapidly closing the distance. Before the two met, though, Bloodfang vanished. The wrathguard stabbed nothing, and whirled around, seemingly ready for Bloodfang's tactic.
The Worgen stood ten yards from the demon, weapons sheathed. He jerked his arm toward the wrathguard, who began to charge. Bloodfand lazily made a sign with his paw, and a jet of black fire lanced from his arm, crashing into the demon. The wrathguard didn't have the chance to react before he was burned in two. The look in Mephistroph's eyes said he hadn't heard of the Worgen's exorcism ability.
Bloodfang returned to Anduin, who patted his shoulder. "Excellent techniques," he said.
The Worgen grinned. "Being the only Dark Paladin had its perks."
Mephistroph was not as amused. The dreadlord's eyes were painted with fury. The inability to torture Anduin in any way must have been painful for him. Anduin didn't intend to alleviate that pain.
"Time to die boy," the dreadlord spat. "Say hello to daddy for me."
Meptistroph waved a hand, and his demons charged, spreading out in a curve. Anduin gave a signal, and a volley of arrows, bullets, and spells wracked the line. The demons charged heedless, only a few among them stumbling. The line behind Anduin continued to volley, fire, ice, metal, and stone tearing into the charging beasts. The felguards reached the wall of heavy armor, and the fighting began in earnest.
It was brutal. Every soldier under Anduin's command was intensely skilled; one didn't survive for long in the apocalypse without learning how to kill effectively. Even so, they were still outmatched by creatures born for war. The warriors fought with fury, only breaking their line to step out and deliver a killing blow. Even so, they still died quickly. Anduin unleashed a constant stream of healing spells, closing wounds as they opened and keeping the men invigorated. The soldiers behind him continued their attacks, the mages devastating the area with spells while the snipers picked out weak spots.
Mepitstroph stood behind his guards, lazily picking off Anduin's soldiers. Bloodfang roamed the battlefield, exposing enemy weakness wherever it could be found. The enemies numbers were thinning, but so were Anduin's. He prepared the teleportation spell, the last one he would need. Before he knew what was happening, a blow to the back knocked him to the floor, the codex flying from his hands. He got to his feet quickly, and turned to see a felguard raising its spear. Before he could cast a spell, an axe buried itself in the monster's skull. Anduin retrieved the codex, and turned to find that a group of felguards had broken the line and flanked the ranged fighters. The battle was a raw melee now, and Mephistroph strode toward Anduin, a ball of black smoke in hand. He felt the spell charge, and he went.
Anduin felt a slight compression as the portal took hold. A burst of light blinded him before his eyes settled. He was in the Cathedral graveyard, at his mother's grave.
Varian was buried here too. There hadn't been time to carve his sarcophagus, but he had at least been given proper burial rights. He had earned those. Anduin wasted no time preparing the other spell, the one final guard that would ensure the success of his plans. Now, he just needed to trust that his trap would work. He pressed himself against the large tombstone, waiting, hiding. Sounds of battle still rang throughout the city. Suddenly, a roar announced the opening of another portal.
Mephistroph, bleeding and scowling, stepped into the cemetery, wildly scanning the area. "I know you're here, boy!" he yelled, firing bolts of dark energy, annihilating anything he could. "I'm going to tear your arms off and mount you above the city walls!"
He roared angrily, and Anduin drew his knife slowly. He started a long incision, running down the length of his arm. He barely flinched at this process anymore. He channeled his magic to begin the blood magic ritual, converting his own blood into pure magical power. He needed everything he could muster for this. He looked back to the graveyard, and found Mephistoph gone. His heart jumped to his throat, and a claw sprouted from his chest. Mephistoph roared in triumph, raising him into the air, mounted on his fist.
"Fool child, did you think to deceive the master of the Nathrezim?" he howled exultantly. He flung Anduin across the yard, where he landed with a hard thud. The dreadlord flew into the air and glided to him, landing a few steps away.
Anduin rolled onto his back, using every bit of willpower he had to stay focused and remain his hold on the book. As Mephistroph came within a yard, he unleashed the blood spell he'd been channeling. He thrust his hand toward the demon and unleashed an enhanced bolt of holy fire. The golden flame lanced out of his hand and tore through the demon, burning him badly. Mephistroph roared insanely.
"Did you think me a fool, demon?" Anduin roared through the haze of pain and dying. "I knew you'd come after me, knew you couldn't resist coming to gloat. Your guards are not here; your own desire for success will be our death."
"I yet live, boy! And my legions are burning your city, destroying the only human power base remaining. And you speak of destroying me, when you can't even stand." As if to prove his point, he lifted Anduin up, and the king's heart raced. He still needed a few more moments. "I'll disfigure you first, then I will rip you in half." Mephistroph opened his jaws in a fierce snarl, before his face went slack and confused. He dropped Anduin roughly, who looked up to see what had saved his life for the moment.
Two swords grew from the demon's chest. Bloodfang kicked him in the back, and the demon fell forward with an audible grunt.
"Look at him again, and I'll make this more painful," he growled. The demon couldn't reply beyond a mumble, touching his chest disbelievingly. Bloodfang's swords became wreathed in golden fire, and he struck the demon's head off. The body burst into black dust, and the Worgen ran to Anduin. Typically, a dreadlord would return to the Twisting Nether. But Anduin had discovered a way to prevent that. Mephistroph was no more.
"My king," he said breathlessly. "Come we have to…we have to-"Anduin held up a hand to silence his friend.
"We discussed this. I'm dying anyway, Bloodfang. This was the best way to make it count. And we succeeded in every way," he said, barely able to form that sentence. Bloodfang nodded, tears streaming freely.
"I know, I know. But it just isn't fair."
"It really isn't," Anduin said. "But we've dealt a blow to the Legion here; they'll have lost more soldiers than it was worth. And there are the vaults, and the Codex. We've ensured the future of the world."
"I pray you're right Anduin," the Worgen said, nearly whispering.
"I'm certain I am. Now go," the king commanded. "I've got one last thing to take care of before I die, and you need to escape."
"Escape?" the Worgen growled. "I'm no craven dog! I'll kill as many demons as I can out there, go down fighting."
"No!" Anduin shouted, an act that cost more energy than he should have had left. He dissolved into a coughing fit before he could compose himself. "No," he continued after a moment, "you can't waste yourself here. You're important to the war effort. If you go now, you can make it back to Gilneas before the Legion recovers from the battles here and at Nordrassil. Get back to your people, make sure they're okay. Help them survive what's coming. As your king, I command it."
The Worgen appeared to see sense. "As you command, Anduin. I'm going to make the Legion pay with every breath I take, I swear that." The Worgen knelt down and placed his paw on the dying king's face. "Goodbye my friend."
"Go with the light, Thomas," Anduin managed to say in a whisper. The Worgen turned to leave, melding into the shadows. His nearly invisible form sped away.
Anduin dragged himself into a sitting position against a headstone, Codex clutched in a deathgrip against his chest. The voices were loud now, and angry. He grinned in spite of his situation. They lose.
He tapped into the spell he'd prepared earlier. All of the energy contained in his body was at his fingertips. He breathed a sigh of relief. King Bronzebeard had said he could do it, and he had agreed. But it was good to be able to be certain.
He allowed the spell to begin to act. He gasped loudly as pain lanced through his body, and not from the wounds. He'd crossed the Mana Threshold, as he called it. He was now drawing from his life energy, an intensely difficult act to force the body into. He closed his eyes as the spell took hold.
Magni had described an intense light, followed by a disturbing lightness. Anduin gasped once more as a rushing sound filled his ears, and he was pulled away forever.
Anduin Wrynn was gone, and the Stormwind cemetery was empty, save for a silver-white statue of a man, face oddly peaceful. A book was clutched to his chest, pulsing lightly.
A book that would decide the fates of those to come. This is their story.
Thanks for reading, I'll try to post new chapters on a regular basis. Any and all constructive criticism is welcome. I'll try to answer any questions posted in comments (if there are any) with new chapters.