Author's Note: It finally happened people. Queen of the Harpies wrote a Warcraft fanfic. Of course, that doesn't mean anything, but here it is. This is between RoC and FT...I think. It features a pre- "I'm gonna kill that son of king if it's the last thing I do" Sylvanas and Arthas's majordomo Kel'Thuzad. Well enough yaking. Or, chirping as the case may be. * Looks for Shadowed Light* Well, do enjoy, dear readers!
Kel'Thuzad paused at the top of a burnt stairwell in the ruined capital city of Lordaeron. He was to check on the progress of the Undercity for Arthas' return. Yet now he stopped to reflect.
The staircase was part of a stairwell that connected the ground floor of the palace to the lower regions of the castle. The room vaulted high above his head meeting in twin marble arches at the top before falling softly into the staircase on which he was settling his skeletal carriage.
Once, the clean marble floors below could be heard reflecting the sound of armor and soft voices whispering. Before the Scourge marched on the city to destroy anything in their way.
When Kel'Thuzad was still an obscure arch mage from Dalaran on business to the capital for Antonidas, they had echoed life. He had witnessed the footmen and advisers moving quickly across this very floor which was now littered with marble chunks of rock from the above ceiling.
He was witnessing them now. Like ghosts, a footman rushed across the floor clutching a message, heading straight for the staircase before he disappeared like dust motes lingering in a beam of winter sunlight. An arch mage hobbled across the floor in the opposite direction, clutching his staff for support.
Kel'Thuzad's cold, socket less eyes surveyed the scene from the past with little remorse. How could he be remorseful? The Lich King had taken the remorse Kel'Thuzad might have once experienced as a mere necromancer and purged it when he arose as a Lich. Kel'Thuzad had long given up on visions. The Lich King had introduced him to a new cold reality that now inspired his actions and yet…here he was, staring endlessly as the spirits of the capital rose from their places beneath him to reenact their lives.
Somewhere behind him, an acolyte slithered by, performing some task the Lich King bid him to do. At this notion of eternal motion and of work being a process, Kel'Thuzad's chains fluttered softly before pulling him forward. Kel'Thuzad was reminded of his task. The Lich King had commanded him and the voice within urged him onward. He sighed a frosty excess of breath. His black tapers floated down the stairs without resistance.
He floated across the marble floor before turning to a side passage that led steadily downhill to his task. Here, a necromancer stood watch, blocking his path. Without a word, the necromancer moved aside and allowed the lich to pass. Below the capital ruins, a new city was being founded. The Undercity, as the troops liked to call it. With Prince Arthas absent, Kel'Thuzad was charged with the task of seeing its construction brought through. The Lich slithered forward down the tunnel. Forward, the chains always seemed to pull him forward.
"Kel'Thuzad."
A voice came from the darkness. Sylvanas, the banshee ranger, emerged from the shadows and approached him.
"The construction of the main Necropolis is complete. The Dreadlords know nothing of our plans."
"Excellent, Sylvanas." She bowed and disappeared into the shadows once more. Like Kel'Thuzad, Sylvanas was loyal to the Lich King. The maddening voice inside their heads had seen to it. At the mention of their master, the chains rattled impatiently. Go, they whispered, onward for the Scourge. In the end, it was always onward for the Scourge. Kel'Thuzad followed the command without question; his chains trailing behind him.
