(Warning! Contains cringe)
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Chapter 10: To Northrend.
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Morning came.
Uther the Lightbringer arrived with some mages from Dalaran, together with some armoured knights and footmen. They continued the quarantining process while putting the whole city in lockdown.
The quarantine process went like this:
All of the citizens were all required to be grouped up, rounded up, then dispelled. After the dispelling, they were kept in one area to be examined. Those who still showed symptoms of the plague despite the dispelling will undergo dispelling again, but if the symptoms persist… then nothing could be done.
The uncurable ones were given a chance to say goodbye to their families, have a sweetroll for their last meal, and receive their last rites from Uther or the priests before being executed by the knights.
The purified citizens of Stratholme were now disposing the dead - The corpses of Zombies and dead Stratholme citizens were getting gathered and piled up for mass cremation. Arthas's army of one hundred men have been reduced to just sixty. Sylvanas Windrunner lost all of her mages and only has 2 remaining rangers. Their deaths have not been for naught though because despite of it all, all of the undead have been dispatched and Mal'Ganis have retreated. The city is safe, at least for now.
Nathanos Marris's body was lying down on a neatly stacked pile of wooden poles. Cicero put 2 golden Septims on Nathanos's eyes.
It was an Imperial tradition to put 2 septims on the eyes of a deceased general or high-ranking officer who died in battle before cremation. The Legionnaires did so when they cremated General Tullius's body after he died during the raid of the Thalmor embassy. The Dragonborn said, 'Tullius died with a smile on his face' however, she never went into details as to how exactly Tullius died but she insisted that he died honorably and happily.
Falric, Marwyn, Jaina Proudmoore, Cicero, and Sylvanas Windrunner gathered around him as Prince Arthas Menethil recited a prayer. They all bowed their heads as the Paladin spoke.
"Nathanos Marris's death was devastating, but we can take comfort in knowing that The Light will hold him close and that he shall find peace in the afterlife, free from all the burdens of life – hurt, hardships, pain, and war.
He laced his boots, wore his armour, strung his bow, and risked his life to protect the lives of people and fought against evil. We pray that he shall be in eternal paradise… from now on till the rest of endless time."
Arthas closed his tome. "Let's all take 30 seconds of silence to honor our fallen brother in arms."
After the prayer, Sylvanas approached the wood pile with a torch then spoke her last goodbye.
"Nathanos, thank you for everything. You were one of my best students, my best ranger, and my best friend." She began to choke up with tears. "Hey, do you remember during King Anasterian's birthday? When you drank that charm-spiked juice Kael'Thas concocted for me, and it was you who drank it by mistake?" She chucked at the funny memory whilst being teary. "I could go on forever about how good of a person you are, but… let's not keep the gods waiting… I'll miss you Nathanos." She said then placed the torch on the hay tinder under the stacked wood pile.
Cicero silently casted Detect Dead, he could see Nathanos's ghost embrace the sobbing elf before fading away.
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The next day after the funeral ceremony, Arthas went to the northern fleet and inspected 7 galleys for the Northrend voyage to pursue Mal'Ganis. All the galleys were in excellent condition, he also decided to not bring too many men but instead bring supplies and weapons – lots of them. He didn't want to have a repeat of the plague campaign where in he brought a lot of soldiers but didn't bring enough supplies. As the prince was contemplating his next move, his thoughts were interrupted by Jaina Proudmoore who appeared behind him.
"Arthas, you're not seriously considering going there, are you?" Jaina said.
Arthas turned around and saw Jaina slowly approaching. "Yes Jaina, I must. We may be safe now, but there's no way of telling when Mal'Ganis might come back or what might be his next move."
"It just feels like it's a trap to me, and Mal'Ganis is luring you to it." Jaina stopped walking as she was already 2 steps from him. She looked down for a moment then looked up at Arthas with a concerned look. "Please, you have to reconsider."
"I already failed my people. I will not do so again, Jaina."
"No Arthas, you didn't fail your people." She looked at him in the eyes. "You still saved a lot. It may not matter to you in the grand scheme of things but it matters to them… every single one of them whom you saved. Your people already love you and I'm very sure you will make your father proud. There's nothing more to prove, Arthas."
"You may be right, but isn't about proving. I still need to go and stop Mal'Ganis. It's the only way to ensure my people's safety from the undead. If I were to die in the glaciers of Northrend, then so be it – at least I died knowing I tried my hardest to save my people, and my people knew I died trying to save them."
"Please, don't go. Your father needs you and I…"
"I must! I need to do this, Jaina." Arthas cut her off.
Jaina's eyes began to get teary as she knew Arthas couldn't be persuaded to not push through.
"What's wrong?"
"It's just that… I have a feeling this might be the last time I'll get to see you again." Jaina put her head down and put her fingers on the back of her head to unhook her locket. She stepped closer, took the Prince's unresisting left hand and placed her locket on his palm. Some of her tears even fell on it. "I want you to have this… remember me, Arthas.
"Jaina…"
"I knew it was a long time… and that we were young, but being with you was one of the best days of my life." She began to choke up. "You're now a Paladin and I'm now a Mage… I guess we won't be fighting about our studies anymore." she wiped some of her tears and faked a smile. "After you became a Paladin, I hoped that we can continue where we left off but…" More tears started flowing. "We… we started to get even more distant."
"Jaina… You cared?"
"I did… and…I…" Her lips began to tremble as she struggled to say what she felt. "I still do!... I still do, Arthas!"
Arthas suddenly hugged her and started to wail loudly. "Jaina… I still love you too… Even through all those years… I am sorry my love. I thought you were just avoiding me." He said whilst sobbing.
Both sobbed hard after witnessing their revelations. Jaina's tears soaked his blue monastic scapular as she sobbed on his chest while Arthas's tears did the same to her blonde hair.
After their tears subsided, Arthas raised Jaina's chin and claimed her lips with his own. They kissed vigorously like there's no tomorrow, just like how they did when they were once together.
Arthas then swept her off her feet and lifted her up.
"Make love to me, Arthas." She said.
"Anything for you, love." He said then he carried her inside of one of the unmanned galleys.
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The noon sun lit the city of startholme. Seagulls from the northern sea flew in the sky.
Cicero sat on a tree stump studying Nathanos's bow. The bow was coloured black and had steel inserts on the frame. He pulled the string to test its 'feel'. To his surprise, it felt like the draw-weight of an ebony bow. He raised it close to his nose and smelled the wood – it smelled like it was made from ashwood or ironwood.
The Imperial Legionnaire bow he was used to handling was made of yew. They were stiff but they made up with range and could pierce through mail and thin plate armour. The Imperial bow design was of Colovian origin and remained unchanged since the reign of General, and later Emperor, Tiber Septim or Hjalti Earlybeard of Alcaire.
He wondered who could be the current Emperor of Cyrodiil, considering Emperor Titus Mede II was assassinated by the Listener. He also wondered what happened to the Nightblade company of General Tullius after Tullius's death, could they have been finally deployed in Summerset? And the war, could the Empire and Dominion go at it again?
He then stopped thinking about home and turned his focus back at Nathanos's bow. If Cicero want to be of more help to Sylvanas's rangers and Lordaeron's army, he needed to effective with the bow, just like Nathanos was, especially when there are only 2 rangers in Sylvanas's infantry.
Sylvanas told him that she didn't want to return to Quel'Thalas to fetch some more of her rangers because King Anasterian might not approve of her going to Northrend with Arthas's forces. Cicero understood the matter considering she wanted to get revenge at Mal'Ganis for killing Nathanos.
Cicero stood up and went to the target range where the Dwarven Riflemen were shooting their arquebuses. He found one target dummy shaped roughly like a man.
He took an arrow from his quiver and drew it on the bow, as he did, he concentrated on hitting the target while trying to remember the proper feel of shooting using his muscle memory.
He released – the arrow missed the bullseye.
"Damn it!" he shouted frustratingly.
He took another arrow from the quiver, drew, aimed, then released – he missed again.
He was so angry at himself. He regressed so much in marksmanship ever since leaving the Legion.
When he served in the Legion, he was very proficient with the bow, he was almost at Master rank with the weapon. He learned how to curve the path of an arrow using weak mental telekinesis, he could infuse an arrow with any spell from all schools. But that was a long time ago, when he was 20, now at 35, he could not even hit a stationary dummy made of hay.
As much as frustrated he is, he didn't want to give up. He already made a promise to Nathanos to take his place and protect Sylvanas Windrunner. If Cicero could just re-polish his marksmanship and remember how to shoot a bow like he did as a Nightblade apprentice and integrate spells into arrow infusion, then he would be very effective in battle… and possibly even impress Sylvanas and make her like him.
He held the bow, firmly grasping it. He took an arrow, drew, and aimed it at the dummy. This time he imagined the dummy to be Uther Nere, the stepfather and murderer of Alisanne Dupre. He channeled all his hate, his anger, grief, and anxiety to magicka and concentrated very hard on his shot. As he did, his emotions shut down as he channeled his magicka from his core, to his head and arms. His heart started to beat very slow. He noticed the seagulls flying started to move slow, the riflemen also looked like they were moving slow and he could see the ammunition cartridges slowly eject out their rifles as they fired.
He released the arrow, and as soon as he did, his heartbeat returned to its normal pace. He quickly channeled telekinesis into the moving arrow with his mind – the arrow missed the bullseye again, but it curved and hit the dummy on the knee.
"By the nine divines… By Sithis… I still got it!" Cicero said to himself with glee. "Just more practice, Cicero… more practice."
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Later at night.
Sylvanas was inside of one of the rooms at an inn close to the Dwarven Riflemen barracks. She sat on the bed staring at her image at the mirror on the wall. Her sapphire necklace matched the colour of her eyes. Her blue and white armour suited her pale-yellow complexion.
She removed her bow and quiver and rested them on a table near the bed. She wanted to get some comfortable sleep so she removed her breastplate, boots, gauntlets, belt, and her segmented pauldrons. She was left wearing a leather crop-top and tight pants. The weary elf put out the candle and lied down on the bed. But as soon as she closed her eyes to sleep, she suddenly heard squeaking noises from outside, together with the crackling sounds that sounded like one of Cicero's spells.
"For fuck's sakes!" she murmured to herself angrily.
She thought there was another skirmish going on so she quickly took her bow and a handful of arrows, broke the window and jumped outside. She ran towards the source of the sound, and when she arrived, she only saw Cicero practicing with a bow. He was shooting at something in the trees.
"Anar'alah Belore! What are you doing?" Sylvanas said. "I can hear you making noise all the way from the inn."
Cicero released his drawn arrow and quickly moved his right fingers. Sylvanas saw the arrow turn green and move not in a straight path, but a curved one. After she heard the arrow fly, she heard squeaking noises again.
"Oh, Lady Windrunner, I'm sorry… I was just killing squirrels, practicing my archery." He said and turned to face her. The moonlight lit her features: She was wearing revealing plain leather clothing and was barefoot, her blue eyes glowed and her sapphire necklace reflected the moonlight. He noticed she was even more beautiful with her long blonde hair not hidden in her hood.
"You better get some sleep. Prince Arthas said we'll wet sail for Northrend in the morning."
"But I'm not sleepy."
"Get some rest Ranger, that's an order." She said with authority.
"Yes ma'am." Cicero casted Magelight then laid down on the ground and closed his eyes.
She rolled her eyes, approached him and nudged his leg with her foot to 'wake him up' "Seriously, Cicero? you're going to sleep on the ground?"
"It's perfectly fine, the Magelight above me keeps me warm." He said and looked at her as he laid down.
Beside him, she saw Nathanos's bow. Her heart sank as she got reminded of him again. "Wait… is that?"
Cicero sat up and looked at it. "Yes, Sylvanas."
"I… I thought it was burned with him during the cremation."
"No, Nathanos gave it to me before he died."
She put down her bow and sat down beside him under the Magelight. "Nathanos was my best student. In Quel'Thalas, my superiors disapprove of him being a member of my rangers. They would constantly bully him, tease him, and tell him humans are inherently inferior and have no place in the Highborn ranks." She took the bow and ran her hands on the metal inserts. "Despite all that, he proved them wrong. He hit targets at longer ranges and at better accuracies than my high-elven students and even the seasoned elven archers." She continued. "He was very selfless, saved my life many times. Saved and protected the High Elven people despite them looking down on him."
"He saved my life too, twice. If it weren't for him, Mal'Ganis could have killed me."
"Mal'Ganis!" she said angrily. "I can't wait to kill him."
Sylvanas was getting hot headed again. Cicero wanted to change the subject.
"Don't worry, we'll kill him… Hey, that's a beautiful amulet you're wearing." He said.
"Oh, this? It's from my sister." she returned to her calm tone.
"I'd like to hear about it."
"Very well. It used to be just a single piece of 3 gems: sapphire, emerald, and ruby." She touched her necklace with her fingers. "I have two sisters, Alleria and Varessa. Alleria has the emerald, and Varessa has the ruby." She continued. "Alleria used to own the entire thing. She melted the amulet and gave each of us a piece. She did it so that we could never feel separated even if we're far away from each other."
"Where are they?"
"Alleria is inside the dark portal in Outland. I don't know if she's still alive or not." Her eyes turning red. "Varessa though, I don't know where she is, but I've heard she was sent by King Terenas on a campaign of some sort."
Cicero prepared his spell Clairvoyance. "This Varessa, what does she look like?"
"She looks a lot like me, she's also a ranger herself."
"She must be really pretty then." Cicero smiled and chuckled. He concentrated 2 of his hands on the spell. "She has the ruby amulet, right?"
She looked at him with a sultry look. "Yes... what are you… wait… that spell again! That one you use to find things… Is she alive? where is she?" she said anxiously.
"Let me see." Cicero casted with both hands for a good 10 seconds. Sylvanas could see Cicero's eyes turn blue as he casted.
"Well?"
Cicero smiled "I think it's better if you see for yourself. Let's go to that high spot, you can see it better that way." He pointed at an arcane tower close to them.
The elf nodded. "Let's go."
They both ran and climbed the stairs of the arcane tower until they reached the top.
"What now?" she asked.
"Okay, I want you to hold still, alright?" He said then approached her from behind, her long pointed ears almost poked him in the eyes. "Give me your hands…" She did as she instructed. Cicero held her wrists and raised it slightly. "Close your eyes…"
He casted the spell. "Now open!"
Sylvanas did and what she saw amazed her. She could see thin bright smoke run from her down to the spiral stairs of the arcane tower, to the pathways of Stratholme, and far beyond the dense forest towards Heartglen. The clairvoyant path seemed to end at some part within the dense forests, and also it was moving… towards Lordaeron.
"By the Sunwell! by the light! There she is!" she said with glee.
Cicero casted until his magicka ran out. Seeing her happy made his heart warm.
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Morning came.
The citizens of Stratholme gathered around at the docks of the Northern Fleet to say farewell to their prince. Among the crowd were Uther and Jaina who stayed behind to continue the quarantine. Arthas went out of the ship and went to them to say his goodbyes.
"Arthas, you still have a chance to not go ahead with this." Uther said.
"I'll be safe, Uther. Don't worry about me too much. Also, we have Cicero with us." He said confidently.
"You grow up so fast, lad." Uther patted the Prince's pauldron. "Speaking of Cicero." He smiled. "He's still not married, so is your sister Calia, right?"
Arthas laughed hard and poked Uther in the shoulder with a soft jab. "I don't know about that. She doesn't approve of arranged marriages anymore after that deal with Daval Prestor… Almost made her go mad."
"So… This is it huh?" Uther breathed hard. "Be careful out there, boy. Northrend is a cold unforgiving place with light-forsaken creatures."
"I will, Uncle Uther." He said then hugging him.
Arthas, after talking to Uther turned his attention to Jaina then approached her.
Jaina's locket hung on Arthas's neck: its gold bezel and the amethyst gems reflected the morning sunlight.
"Jaina…"
"Come here." She said softly then pulled him close to kiss him.
The crowd started to cheer and whistle. "Wooh! Yeah! Way to go Prince Arthas!" said one of the townsfolk.
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The Galleys were ready to begin their voyage to Northrend. Arthas brought 50 heavily armoured knights from Lordaeron and 50 dwarves that comprised of riflemen and mortar teams, he also brought 20 mages from Dalaran who will serve as healers. Most importantly, he brought loads of supplies –Warm clothing, food, potions, weapons, and maintenance tools for ships and weapons. Not only that, he brought some mobile artillery from IronForge, the city of the dwarves.
Cicero, Sylvanas and her 2 remaining rangers were on the same ship as Arthas, they are to ride on a ship while the soldiers will ride on galleys. Arthas knew Cicero would be useful when it comes to locating things and looking for shortcuts, that being said, he appointed him as the look-out.
Arthas returned from saying his goodbyes to Jaina and Uther then approached the ship captain.
"Fire the engine and raise the anchors." Said Arthas.
"Aye sir." Said the ship captain. "Raise the anchor, and raise the sails!" he shouted.
As soon as the ship started moving and the oarmen of the galleys started rowing, the citizens of Stratholme cheered for their Prince. As for Jaina and Uther, they felt worried, worried that Arthas might die or might get consumed by the frozen north.
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To be Continued.
For Arthas and Jaina's deleted scene. It is on a different M rated story.