I Do not Own either World of Warcraft nor Harry Potter. Anything that you may recognize do not belong to me.
I would like to say that this is my first story, and that English is not my first language.
AU for Both WOW and Harry Potter, OOC probable.
Chapter 1
Sylvanas twitched in annoyance as a bead of sweat rolled down her brow. For hours she had
stood her ground, fighting her way through hordes of undead. For weeks now she had defended
her homeland against the Scourge, led by the death knight Arthas Menethil ; countless hours of battle and too many of her rangers killed later, and she knew that the war was lost.
Already the defenses around the capital of Quel'Thalas were failing. She knew of course, of the deal Dar'Khan Drathir had made with the former prince of Lordaeron : the swine had provided the scourge with the stones of light and flames. With those artefact, the invaders were free to enter Quel'thalas nigh unchallenged.
And now the Ranger General was on her last legs, leading only a handful of soldiers on the bridge between the first and second door of Silvermoon. The shadow of the Death Knight cut through the smoke, so far away and yet worlds too close for her liking. He was coming for her. She was sure of it : Arthas was a vain and spoilt child that would suffer no opposition. He would make an example out of her, to not only break the remaining spirit of the Kal'dorei, but also to punish her for daring to stand in his way. Sylvanas was terrified of course. Who knew what a deranged, power hungry, man child with the power over the dead would do to her? Death was rather obvious. Torture was a given as well. He would most likely resurrect her for his army. None of those looked joyous of course but what if used her for his pleasure? The one of his troops? What of slavery, forced prostitution? What of…
-« I could help you, you know? »
That put a stop to the sordid line of thoughts the Ranger General was going down. Startled by the boyish voice on her side, she whipped her knives ready to cut down whatever foe had managed to sneak up on her. Only to freeze in surprise as an amused pair of green eyes met her blue ones. Emerald, she mentally corrected. Not out of an out of place sense of poetry or a desire to stay as faithful as possible to the panel of colours her sister Vereesa had forcefully shoved down her throat during her « artistic » period. No it was because those eyes genuinely seemed to be emeralds in the sunlight, twinkling with a sense of mystery and magic.
Sylvanas, only taken aback for a brief instant, took but a second to assess the new comer. And boy if she wasn't surprised : instead of a high Elf as she would have expected it was a human. A human boy at that, no more than twelve summers if she had to say. He stood at around 5 feet, an average height for this specie and age she supposed. The boy had jet black hair that seemed to absorb all light, roughly pulled back behind his ears in an attempt to comb them. He was dressed in black, with ankle hight boots in which were tucked a pair of cloth trousers. All she could see around his torso was a cloak fastened around his neck by a silver chain. The cloak it self was a weird design, going up to his chin, almost to his lower lip, and appeared to be without sleeves : the right side stopped at his wrist, showing long, pale fingers, while the left side went down past his knee.
But the observations of the defender of Silvermoon did not stop there. As a High Elf she had spent a large amount of time around the arcanes, and even if she herself was no mage, she could still recognize the feeling of magic. And this boy, whoever he was, was definitely a mage, in training at the very least.
-« It is all right, in all honesty I would be surprised as well if I appeared unannounced in the middle of a battlefield. » , the new comer said in amusement « However for the sake of the situation I should invite you to redirect your attention to what I say not who I am »
-« Ugh…? »
… Not her brightest moment, she would be the first to confess that. Still she had just spent some of the most exhausting weeks of her life, she hoped whatever hallucination she was confronted to would cut her some slack.
-« I said » started the boy with an indulgent smile, as if he was talking to a confused child, « that I could help you. With the slightly apocalyptic situation you appear to be in. »
-« Help me? With an invasion threatening to raze a city, led by a monster, and composed of an army that could very well mean the end of life as it exists on Azeroth? » Sylvanas laughed bitterly « There is no helping me. Quel'Thalas will fall, and Arthas will gain access to the Sun Well. I can however delay him enough to allow some of my people to survive so do not waste my… »
Her rant was interrupted when she had whirled around back to see the battlefield, only to be baffled, once more. The very fact that she had not noticed is a testament to her distress when instead of seeing the Death Knight invading her city as she expected, he had barely moved from the spot he was in before. In fact, the whole world seemed to have lost its momentum. It had not stopped, but rather slowed. The arrows in the air moved slower than a snail, the water below seemed sluggish and even the wings of a nearby bird were barely moving.
-« …Time? »
-« I think you will find, Sylvanas Windrunner, that your time is something that I would never presume to waste. That is, after all, the very reason why I am here » The same sarcastic, slightly smug voice of the boy said. « I was passing by and couldn't help but notice you appeared to be in quite the tough spot. As I said before, I could help you. For a price of course…» He finished with a slightly more dangerous smile.
A price. Of course. This was no boy, but a genie of sort, a fae, seeking to strike deals with mortals in exchange for an excessive compensation. Kind of like goblins now that she thought about it.
-«I assure you, I am quite human, and most definitely mortal »
Did the little brat really just…
-« Read your mind? No of course not. The mind is not a book one simply opens and reads at leasure. I just assumed that would be your train of thought, and based on your facial expressions I guessed the rest. » The now confirmed human replied.
-« Very well. I will assume for the sake of the conversation that you are not, in fact, an hallucination. What kind of price would you demand? » Sylvanas asked, expecting the plea for riches or knowledge, even women if the child was into that sort of things. In the end it would not matter. Despite his impressive show of time dilatation, the victory of Arthas was inevitable.
-« Ah well you see » Started the black haired youth obviously embarrassed, laughing nervously, « I would just need your Sun Well »
-« Of course you … WHAT? » Sylvanas was floored. Outraged. Blown away. And a whole lot of adjectives that evaded her right now. The little shit came to HER town, assumed SHE needed HIS help, and he asked the greatest treasure of her people in exchange for an impossible task? « And what, prey tell, made you think I would even consider such a trade? What difference would it make if I let you take possession of the Sun Well instead of Arthas? » The amused and indulging tone was gone, replaced by the frosty authority of a General.
-« Well… It is not like I would keep it forever! Further more I would not kill most of your people nor resurrect a powerful Lich in the process. »
Unamused, the Ranger General kept staring at the boy, clear on her intention of refusing the so called deal he had dared to bring before her. Finally getting the message, the young mage sighed, his shoulders slumped and he shook his head in disappointment. When finally his eyes met Sylvanas', she was once more surprised by the change. Gone were the humour and playfulness, as was the nervousness previously shown. She now stared at two piercing emerald, that seemed to see through her.
-« Well… » The voice had changed has well. What was before common with an accent that seemed to come from Stormwind, was now a different intonation, calmer, more cultured and ensnaring. « If you are sure of your decision, I should probably let you to your war. But take, if you will this piece of advice. Consider it a freebie. Loyalty is a fickle thing, if it is born out desperation and fear, it is less trustworthy than a fox in a henhouse »
And just like that, not even a blink later, the world started moving again. The deafening sound of battle filled her senses and Sylvanas looked around to see that the strange boy had disappeared. Tightening her grip on her blades, the Elf readied herself and jumped into the frenzy of undead that had passed the first gate.
Within the hour, the bridge had fallen to the Scourge.
Cold, glowing red eyes snapped into focus, only half listening to whatever those adventurer were telling her. She could almost laugh as she remembered the parting words of the strange apparition, all these years ago. This encounter, however brief it was had never left her. In truth, she cherished it, hating the very idea of leaving it behind. Not out of some perverse sentiments, but rather because this brief moments, those few minutes seemed brighter and clearer than all the years she had spent in Quel'Thalas before.
Ever since her death she had been cold, unresponsive to the world, unable to sense its changes. And she had soon started to forget those sensations. All but those she had felt during the most bizarre encounter of her life. The warmth of the sun on her skin, the smell of fire, blood and the trees, even the deep exhaustion throughout her muscles, she treasured those memories for they were the only proof that she, Sylvanas Windrunner, Queen of the Forsaken was real, because Sylvanas, the Ranger General had been indeed alive at one point. Strangely, even though her mind knew of the encounter, she could not remember much of whom she spoke to. The vague shadow of a small being, and the accent were the only thing she could make out other than his words. His appearance was a blur, like a dream forgotten in the morning.
If she was honest, it was her pride that had put away the last advice the little demon, her own nickname for the apparition, for the lack of name, had given her. And if she was even more honest, if she had listened to it, the betrayal of Varimathras would not have blindsided her so much.
She had become lax, overconfident, and her people had payed the price for it. For more than a decade now she had led the forsaken, from a group of lost souls to one of the major forces of Azeroth. She had delivered on her promise and obtained her vengeance from the Lich King Arthas.
« No King rules forever my son »
The voice of the King Terenas echoed through her mind. How long would she live? How long would her people follow her? She had never intended to rule over a kingdom, the forsaken were supposed to be a military operation, destined to take down the Frozen Crown. She was a General, not a Queen, a leader of war not in peace. Maybe it was time for an early retirement, she mused. Her eyes fell to the adventurers before her, always traveling, living in excitement and danger. Maybe there was other ways she could serve her people.
« Maybe… », She thought with the ghost of a smile on her lips