Jaina's hands clasped the balcony firmly as she gazed out into the distance. Even in Dalaran, the dreaded Icecrown Citadel could be spotted. She could hear the wing beats of Frostwyrms as they circled and wheeled around the citadel.
"Lady Jaina?" A voice, human male by the sound of it, drew her out of her thoughts. She turned to the young man who wore flowing purple robes, marking him as an apprentice of the Kirin Tor. He clutched a scroll tightly, yet loose enough so it wouldn't be crushed. "Forgive me for interrupting your solitude, but I was asked to give this to you." He handed her the scroll then bowed, scurrying out. Jaina's brows furred and she looked at the seal.
The mark of the Argent Crusade was present. She cracked open the seal with a fingernail and rolled open the scroll.
Lady Jaina Proudmoore,
You have been summoned to appear at the Argent Tournament in Icecrown.
Your ride there has been taken care of, we wait for your timely arrival.
-Tirion Fordring
Jaina read through it a couple of times. Tournament? For what? She sighed heavily and rolled up the scroll, placing it on her desk with other untidy papers that would've stacked at least two feet if she arranged them like so.
"By the light, what could Tirion be planning now?" She said under her breath, shaking her golden head in annoyance. She was busy enough as it is. Being a ruler was not an easy job. She didn't know how Varian could bear it. But still, she had to find out what this tournament was for. Did it have something to do with Arthas?
Arthas...
Jaina's heart swelled with sorrow as she thought of the dear prince that was lost to her many years ago. She could still remember his laughter, the mischievous look in his eyes as he pulled her into the darkness, kissing her neck. Her fingers ran over the spot as if she was still trying to feel the warmth from his lips. Without realizing it, tears rolled down her cheeks.
Arthas...!
She wished she could turn back time. Stop her beloved prince from becoming the one thing he hated the most. To stand by his side once more.
But he was gone. There was nothing left. He was a hollow shell, a spirit merely using his body as a vessel. Arthas wasn't there.
Right?
She licked her lips nervously and turned away from the balcony. She had to do something, anything, to get her mind off the Prince she once loved. She moved her fingers in a rythm, azure light washing over her perfect features as she teleported away.
Her slippered feet felt unbearably cold in the snow. She wrapped her arms around her chest, hugging herself and speaking the words of a spell for fire. She took away one arm and opened her palm, a small flame igniting within.
The fire danced within her palm, providing much needed warmth to the sorceress. She could sense something behind her as the cold winds extinguished the fire. The presence was new yet familiar.
Could it be...?
She gasped in surprise as ice encased her legs and something hit her over the back of her head. She thought she heard a voice.
"Perhaps you'll serve some use to me, Proudmoore."
The voice was Arthas' voice. There was no mistaking it. She tried to form words, but darkness clouded her vision. The ice shattered as she fell forwards and knew nothing more.
Happy Mother's Day everyone! Sorry the prologue is so short and uninteresting.