Chapter IV
A/N
Sorry this one was so long in coming v.v Between work, playing wow, playing minecraft, and writing an original piece for Fiction Press (not yet out) there isn't enough hours in the day. Also, I replayed Warcraft3 to get an idea of the sequence of events. Omg I think Blizz messed up with Sylvanas. She was a banshee at the end of the destruction of SMC then all of a sudden she has her body with no explination. Then look at Jaina Proudmoore. One minute she's in stratholm with arthas, then she's in dalaran then she's in outland helping thrall. What a trooper! I'm going to write my story around these events, often alluding to them but not copying the events here. If you are unclear of the sequence of things, play Warcraft3 :p
This chapter is a flashback into Azaraiah's past. This was going to be a seperate short but there isn't enough material to make it on its own. I'll try to make it as interesting as possible.
I don't own Blizzard, its content, nor its characters. I only own Azaraiah, Braxx, Elunaa and Railynn. Aoibeahnn was used with exclusive permission (thanks Raidy! XD). Thank you dear readers for you patience, your reviews and support. Enjoy.
The Lessons of the Past
Two weeks after the event in the woods of Railynn's demonstration to Braxx of soul stones which Azaraiah had witnessed, he was in his study when his book began to glow a foul color of green, his eyes blazed a fierce amethyst.
"No," he croaked, his voice sounding like dry paper set aflame.
The book tugged him and he was forced into a chair. He ripped his robe off his chest and the books chain rattled loudly. Azaraiah pulled the catch on it and the book opened. A demonic entity materialized into the room with him.
"You..." Azaraiah spoke, barely louder than a whisper.
The demon spoke in his own language, the words entering Azaraiah's mind by force: You have been neglecting me. Have you forgotten your responsibilities so soon, fallen elf?
Azaraiah's head lulled to his chest as the demon began his dark work, feasting hungrly at Azaraiah's soul. Tendrals of green Fel energies extruded from Azaraiah's chest and entered the vile demon. Azaraiah twitched but was unable to move. The demon continued to speak in his hellish voice: Little elf, so powerful, so pure, if only your people knew how selfishly you lusted for power. How easy you were to manipulate. How ignorant and stupid you are. This world is ours and there is nothing you can do.
Azaraiah's tears fell from his eyes, making a small pool on his bare chest. He knew well the weight of sins from years past. His deeds pressed down on his heart and he was crushed by them. The sorrow on his mind fed the demon and he was sated.
There was a knock on his door and a small voice called out, "Lord Azaraiah, I came to talk with you, is everything okay?" Jaina Proudmoore had been walking toward the house when she heard the awfull voice of the demon speaking in a language she did not know. She had heard Azaraiah's sobs and had assumed the worst. She had been right.
Jaina saw Azaraiah, naked from the waist up, a nether demon feasting on his soul. She had raised her hands and began casting a spell to banish it when Azaraiah raised his own. He called forth necromantic energy and cast the foul demon back into the book. The chain wound itself around the book and it lay still. Azaraiah's eyes cooled from their violent amethyst back to their former green. He leaned back into his chair and cooly regarded the little female in front of him.
"I wish you hadn't seen that," he said. "Well, you may as well sit down, I promise I won't bite you."
Jaina calmly took a chair beside him. Azaraiah stood and regarded the tattered remains of his robe. He went to the closet behind him and got a fresh shirt, pulling it over his head and concealing the chain which was burned into his waist. He poured himself a glass of brandy and offered a glass to Jaina. She took it and downed it in one gulp, raising her hand for a refill. Azaraiah poured and she sipped slowly. Azaraiah sat back down, laying the book on the table between them.
"I imagine you have a few questions for me." He said with a thin smile.
Jaina was shocked at his reaction. She said to him, "What in the worlds of Azeroth was that?"
Azaraiah laid a hand on the book to steady it as it had begun to rattle again.
"My old burden," he said. "A price that I have to pay for the sins of crimes past.
"What do you mean?" She asked him.
Azaraiah took a deep breath and began to explain.
Eighteen years ago...
It was the third happiest day of Azaraiah's life. The first, having been the day he married her. Azaraiah's wife had come to him earlier that day and told him they were pregnant. His heart was filled with so much joy at the prospect of being a father. He was nervous however she was starting to look slightly pale, her form becoming more slender even as her stomach was growing.
They had gone to the Chirugien in Silvermoon. Aoibeahnn, Chirugien of Silvermoon City, emerged from her office looking grim. Azaraiah frowned to her. "What is it?"
Aoibeahnn told them to sit down. Azaraiah took his wife's hand and they both sat down.
"You are having a daughter. She is growing at a normal and healthy rate inside your womb."
Azaraiah looked rejoiced to hear this but Aoibeahnn continued on.
"The baby is going to be just fine but your wife will not. It is rare but your child is taking nourishment from her body and not from what she eats."
"Is there anything that can be done?" Azaraiah said, the concern in his voice apparent. His wife was trembling.
"There are several options we can explore. We can and will supply extra nutritional fluids but this will only delay the problem."
Azaraiah's wife was crying and he looked tortured.
"The other option would be to abort."
"Absolutely not!" His wife exclaimed. Azaraiah turned toward her.
"If it comes to your dying over this, we must at least consider it as an option." He said to her.
"Never," she replied. "I would never sacrifice my child's life for my own."
Azaraiah hugged her. He looked to Aoibeahnn. "Is there some magic that can be used to help?"
"I know of none," she replied. "But I had heard rumors that the Night Elves of Darnassus have encountered this kind of condition before and have discovered a way to counter it magically."
Azaraiah nodded to her then turned to his wife. "I am going to Darnassus to speak to the healers there."
"They hate the Highborn elves, why would they help us?" She asked him.
"I am not unknown in Darnassus; I have held palaver with the Night Elves before. Perhaps some bit of magic from their demi-god Cenaris can help."
Azaraiah looked to Aoibeahnn, "What kind of time frame do we have here?" He asked her.
"Six months, most assuredly no more than seven." She told him.
Azaraiah looked back at his wife. "If I have to, I'll go to the ends of the world for you, my beloved."
"Be safe my love," she replied. And hurry back to me.
Azaraiah said goodbye then in a wink, was gone.
Azaraiah's wife began to weep. Aoibeahnn put an arm around her. "If there was anyone who would come back with magic to help, it will be your husband." She told her.
It was three days later that Azaraiah found himself at Theramore Harbor. He was looking into booking passage to Auberdine when a man approached him.
"I hear you are seeking the Night Elves of Darnassus regarding magical remedies." The man said.
"That's correct," Azaraiah said. "What can I do for you?"
"It is not what you can do for me," he said but what I can do for you."
Azaraiah's eyes narrowed. "And just what can you do for me?"
The hooded man smiled. "I can give you more power than you can possibly imagine. Power even to save you wife from certain death."
Azaraiah leaned in. "What did you say? How can you know about that?"
The man's smile grew wider. "My master tells me everything."
"What about the Night Elves, surely their god can help."
The man pondered this. "The Night Elves have no love for your kind. They would surely kill you on sight for approaching and especially for asking for magic, considering the Highborne's history."
"What must we do?" Azaraiah asked.
"Follow me to my tower in the swamps, no one goes there. It is there that all things will be explained." The man said to him.
"What is your name friend?" Azaraiah asked him.
"Kel'Thuzad," the man replied with a smile.
Four months went by. Azaraiah was working hard to please Kel'Thuzad. In return, Kel'Thuzad taught Azaraiah all about Shadow Magic, Soul Manipulation, Necromancy and how to apply curses to his enemies. Azaraiah learned his studies well and was prepared to return to his wife with his new knowledge. His power grew exponentially and he was certain that he could now save her life.
Kel'Thuzad approached him. "Before you return to Quel'Thelas, I wanted you to have this." Kel'Thuzad handed him a large book, the covers appeared bound in some kind of leather.
"What is it?" Azaraiah asked.
"It is a special tome filled with all the magic you will need." Kel'Thuzad replied. "This tome was passed to me by my master Ner'zuhl.
"If it will lead me to the power necessary to save my wife from death, I will gladly accept it. Thank you Kel'Thuzad for all your help."
Without another word, Azaraiah boarded the ship back to the Eastern Kingdoms.
After he was out of sight one of Kel'Thuzad's acolytes approached him. "Is it wise, giving such a powerful tool to one so ignorant, Master?" He asked.
Kel'Thuzad chuckled. "Ner'zuhl will see to it that that one is taken care of, and it may just give The Burning Legion the edge we need against the Highborn Elves."
"What if he fights the demon's control?" The acolyte continued. "That mage was powerful before, now that we have given him access to magic that he would not normally have, his powers will have doubled."
Kel'Thuzad pondered this. "By the time that boat reaches Menethil Harbor, the demon will have already begun working on him. When he reaches Quel'thelas, his control over Azaraiah will be unbreakable. The Highborn are as good as ours." he answered.
Three days later, Azaraiah was in his day cabin on the ship, studying the ancient tome when it began to speak to him. It told him that there was vast power within the book and Azaraiah studied it dutifully. After a week, he was rarely seen out of his cabin, he barely ate, rarely slept, the only thing he did was study the book which by now he had began speaking back to, almost as if it were his friend. His once-vibrant skin paled to the dullest silver-grey hue. His eyes which had been the most lustrous green now glowed faintly amethyst in the dim light of his cabin's lantern. The rare few times he did venture above-deck, the sunlight shined too brightly for his skin, so he donned a dark cloak to protect himself.
Six months to the day after his departure, Azaraiah walked into Silvermoon City and went to see Aoibeahnn. When he found her, she looked very grim.
"Come inside with me Azaraiah," she said.
"What is it? What's happened?" He asked.
Aoibeahnn shook her head. "There was nothing that could have been done," she replied. "The sickness came two nights ago. Her body was already frail and weak. I'm sorry old friend, but your wife is dead."
Azaraiah pulled back his hood and his eyes burned their fiercest violet at her. "Then I am too late." He said to her.
Aiobeahnn pulled back slightly. "Are you alright Az? Your eyes are..."
"I AM WELL AWARE OF WHAT MY EYES LOOK LIKE!" He roared at her. He raised his hand and a bolt of fire interlaced with shadowy necrotic energy flattened her to the wall behind her. "AND WHERE WERE YOU?" He shrieked at her. "I have been all over this world searching for the magic that would keep her alive and where were you while she was dying?"
Aiobeahnn struggled to free herself of his grip and she croaked to him, "I was saving the life of your child."
Azaraiah immediately let lose his grip on her. "My daughter? She lives?" He asked her.
The book at his side began to vibrate slightly in his pocket. Do not listen to her. She killed your wife and is now trying to manipulate you. It said into his mind.
Azaraiah ignored it and continued to stare at Aoibeahnn.
"Yes, well if you are done losing your temper, I can take you to her."
Aoibeahnn led him to the new neonatal ward of the healer's temple. There Azaraiah gazed upon his beautiful daughter.
"She's so small," he said.
"Well, she is two months early," Aoibeahnn replied. "She is new to the world and needs her daddy to care for her."
The book in his pocket spoke to its audience of one: That small life is what killed your wife. She is responsible of her death.
Azaraiah barely heard this as he picked up his new daughter and held her gently to his heart. As if sencing the malovalent spirit within him, the child began to wail uncontrollably.
"My goodness, she never cried like that before," Aoibeahnn said.
"Maybe she is hungry," Azaraiah said.
"Are you ok Az? For a moment there, I thought you were going to..." Aoibeahnn stammered.
Azaraiah patted her arm reassuringly. "Sorry about that, I'm just upset at having been too late. When can I take my daughter home?"
"She will need to stay here for another three days, just to make sure she is out of the danger zone. She is very weak as you can imagine. She will always be smallbut she has her father's stubourn persistence. She will make you proud." Aoibeahnn said.
Azaraiah nodded. "And what of my wife?"
"She has been buried as is our way. We could wait no longer for you." She jotted something down. "This is where we have laid her to rest. Go and see her. She would have liked that. I am sorry old friend, we did all we could, there just wasn't any time." Aoibeahnn looked sad.
Azaraiah gave her a quick hug then left. He made his way down to the cemetery area. The thought of his wife there, under the cold moist ground of Eversong depressed him and he wept. The book continued speaking to him: She need not lie there; you know what has to be done. You can make things right. A life, for a life.
Azaraiah nodded then left the cemetery. He went home and prepared his ritual equipment and summoning area. After nightfall, he crept back into the cemetery and removed his wife from there and brought her home. He made sure everything was ready.
Three days later, he returned to the Healing Temple and spoke again with Aoibeahnn. She instructed him on how he needed to care for his new little girl.
"So, what are you going to do with yourself now?" She asked him.
"I imagine I'll take a less stressful job as envoy for the Kirin Tor, something that would allow me to be home for little Elunaa. What about you?" He asked her.
"I have decided to take the new position as Matron of the Orphanage here in Silvermoon. I just love the little children. And there are so many like Elunaa that need special love and care. I cannot pass up the opportunity to provide that care." She told him.
"That's good. The children will be lucky to have you." He told her. "Thank you for all the help you've been with my own little one."
The hugged and Azaraiah and Elunaa went home.
As the midnight hour approached, Azaraiah began the ritual to bring his wife back to him. He stabbed himself in the arm with his athame and drew the power spells he needed in his blood. He lay the open book beside him on the alter and placed Elunaa in the sacrificial circle and began to chant. His heart felt a brief moment of guilt over this act but it was quickly extinguished by the demon as he said the last words, the air before him shimmered and the voice from the book took form. A Dreadlord!
"Gaze upon me little elf. For in all your years, never have you seen one so powerful as me. You are mine now, and I demand sacrifice!"
Azaraiah gazed in horror at the being he had wrought. He was paralyzed in fear at the terrible being before him. His body refused to move, even when the Dreadlord moved to his wife's body. The foul demon spoke a few demonic words and green tendrils of energy sapped themselves from Azaraiah's wife's body and entered his own, the demon taking more corporeal form.
"You cannot be..." Azaraiah said.
"Cannot be what, foolish elf? Cannot be here? Ner'zuhl predicted you perfectly. You were so consumed by the threat of loss of your wife that you allowed your very soul to become tainted. By that act and this one that follows it, we will have a way into your world. The Burning Legion comes to claim your world and there is nothing you can do about it mortal!"
The demon turned and used his energy to sap the life from Azaraiah. The Dreadlord grew in size, becoming larger with each moment he suckled from Azaraiah's power. He then turned and regarded the little elf on the sacrificial circle. The demon chuckled, "Ah, was this to be my sacrifice? A life, for a life eh? That is exactly the way it should be, with her innocent death, my entry into your world will be complete."
The baby wailed in terror as the demon began to chant his spell. Suddenly a new light appeared in the room with them, it was the spirit of Azaraiah's wife. She spoke directly to him.
Worry not for me my love, she told him. I am one with the Sunwell now. Your purpose now is to look out for our dear child. I sacrificed my own life so that she may live. A life, for a life, indeed. I forgive you this act; you love me greatly, as I loved you. But our daughter needs that love too. She is my connection to this world; honor me by loving her every minute of the day. I love you with all my heart and soul. Take my energy and stop that beast from harming our family.
With that, she focused all her strength into Azaraiah, his power redoubling over.
"Get away from my daughter!" He exclaimed. The demon turned in surprise, having seen nothing of Azaraiah's wife. Azaraiah focused all his magic, all his being, indeed, his very soul into the book, binding the spirit to himself and plunging into the depths of the book. The demon, scrambled to get away but Azaraiah tossed the alters' chain around his waist and affixed it to the demon and the book, binding them together. The demon, assaulted by all the magic and power of the sorcerer, was helpless to escape. The Dreadlord was pulled back into the book, his stolen energy escaping into the room and entering Azaraiah. Azaraiah pulled onto the chain with all his might, the force of the Dreadlord's hold on it, heating up the chain until it melted into the flesh at Azaraiah's waist. With a final roar of defeat, the demon was sealed into the book, the clasp closed. The book glowed defiantly with a dark green energy and Azaraiah heard the demon's words in his head once more:
You think that you have defeated me little elf? You think this is over? Azaraiah felt pain burning up the chain from the book and tearing at his soul. Remember little elf, part of you is here with me, and I intend to make it a most painful experience for you. Forever will you walk with the shame of your actions here. Though your own race will never know how selfish and greedy you are, you will always know, and that knowledge will be my meal. Know that this battle only buys you a little time, The Burning Legion comes and when it does, this world will be set aflame! With that the book fell silent.
Azaraiah's wife's spirit watched as he went to hold his child, the demonic energy at bay, for now. The baby looked up at her daddy with the most stunning blue eyes. Azaraiah's hear shattered at what he had wanted to do. He resolved from that day on to love his little girl and care for her always. He looked to the spirit of his wife which smiled at him. I love you She whispered. I love you, forever, he whispered back. Azaraiah walked upstairs, his daughter cradled in his loving arms, the hateful demonic book dragging behind him, an eternal reminder that although he had saved his child and defeated the demon, he was still as damned as it. Condemned to live with the burden of the guilt in his soul.
Jaina Proudmoore took a long swallow of the drink in her hand. Her brain trying to process all that had been said to her.
"That's a lot to take in," she eventually said.
Azaraiah nodded his agreement and refreshed their drinks. "Now you know why I have to carry this cursed thing with me everywhere I go, I am unable to detach it."
"Surely the Mages can.." she began.
Azaraiah shook his head. "Even Arcmage Antonidas can do nothing to help me remove it. And that trip has also caused me to be banned from Dalaran since the Kirin Tor frown upon those with powers such as mine.
They sat in silence for several moments when Azaraiah spoke up. "What is it you wished to see me about young Arcmage?"
Jaina placed her drink down on the coaster in front of her. She did not know how to take all this information she had just gained but what she saw before her was not an enemy Warlock or a demon-possessed elf. What she saw was a loving father, powerful sorcerer and a man lonely from the death of his wife. Despite knowing what he almost did and almost became, she still respected him and pitied the things he had to do in the past. She shook her head to clear it and then told him why she had come.
"Lord Azaraiah, the Kirin Tor have been getting reports of a mysterious Prophet traveling the Eastern Kingdoms, urging people to flee to Kalimdor..."
Notes:
ZOMG, PLEASE don't hate Azaraiah for what he ALMOST did.
Thanks for all your patience in the long ass wait for this one to come out, I have been battling my own demon, the dreaded Demon Flu
Regarding the ending of this chapter. All Warcraft Gamers know what time frame the appearance of the Prophet places this in. :D That's right, time for shit to start hitting the preverbial fan, or in this case, Lordaeron :( Hope the ending didnt confuse non-warcraft players too badly.
Thank you all for your support and reviews and thanks for reading!