Chapter 11
Around the same time,
"My Lord!" The black haired man with quick, intelligent eyes and well groomed raven beard and mustache rushed through the white stone halls of Stormwind Keep towards the throne room. His hard used leather soles hit the floor with a clack that echoed through the stone halls of the royal fortress like gunshots. "Your majesty! I must speak with you!"
The look on the man's face was urgent and almost panicked, unusual given his regular employment. He looked as though having seen a phantasm, which was entirely likely given his assignment in the Western Plaguelands. Whatever had overcome him must have been more disturbing still. He wore a dark gray woolen vest with matching pants and tailored white shirt. A black leather trenchcoat hung open around his body as he walked quickly in the throne room, attempting to gain the attention of his monarch.
His information could not wait for etiquette and protocol.
The throne room at that hour of the evening had been mostly empty except for the royal guards, the King himself and those advisers he surrounded himself with including the lord of Gilneas, Genn Graymane and, tonight, the leader and High Priest of the Draenei, the Prophet Velen.
"What is the meaning of this interruption?" Genn Graymane had been the first to speak. A man in his eighties yet still virile and muscular, and a king in his own right though in exile. "Who are you? Speak up man!"
"My lord and King Anduin," the man began addressing his own sovereign, "Flint Shadowmore, S.I.:7, stationed at Chillwind Camp, your majesty. I'm sorry for the intrusion, but there has been a development in the north you need to know right away, your majesty!"
Anduin looked at the man directly, understanding that whatever the man had learned had shaken him badly enough to come running in here instead of following proper chains of command. "Go on." He then told the intelligence agent.
Flint Shadowmore then began to relate to all present the appearance of the mass of people at Chillwind Camp and the incredible story they had told everyone there. He also related how the humans had no intent or desire to head for Alliance lands but were headed to seek refuge in Hearthglen. He also gave the name of the man to whom the fleeing townspeople had attributed their transformation.
It was then Velen who spoke up, "Anduin, if I may?" He asked the much younger leader, deferring to him in his own realm.
Anduin nodded, not realizing his mouth had not closed since the man began speaking.
"Agent, do you mean to tell us this man Jeshua cured the undeath of an entire town's population at once?" The Draenei asked, the disbelief evident on his features.
"Yes, my lord, and not just the town. There were Night Elves and Blood Elves among them that claimed to have been Illidari before the event occurred. Six of them to be exact. All of them named this man Jeshua as the one responsible." Shadowmore answered.
"And how many humans were in this group?" Genn Graymane questioned, his own mind trying to grasp it.
"I'd estimate over two hundred, my lord." The agent replied. "They were all armed with some kind of weapon except this man Jeshua and his followers. He seemed to have some kind of religious teaching against it. There were around twenty human men and women in Deathguard armor and weapons wearing Forsaken tabards among them."
"Humans wearing Forsaken colors?" Greymane's eyes went wide.
"Your story appears incredible at best, Agent Shadowmore." Anduin remarked.
"If it pleases your majesty, send other agents to Chillwind Camp. Ask the other people there, they'll corroborate my story for you. Also, I would recommend you send men to Hearthglen. That's where they were going." The agent told him.
"To get to Hearthglen, they'd have to pass through Andorhal." Greymane said, thinking out loud. "That city's been under Forsaken control since we lost it after the Cataclysm. I'd like to know how living humans intend to pass through it without a fight."
"It was my understanding that was why they were armed, my lord." Shadowmore replied. "They appeared to be ready for a fight from either Forsaken or Alliance forces. They didn't really appear to know who to trust when I heard them talking except for this man Jeshua. Chillwind, as you know, is largely sympathetic to the Argent Crusade and the Paladin orders like most of the still populated areas in the Plaguelands. The Draenei Anchorite Truun is a member and he preaches regularly. The whole village hangs on every word."
Flint Shadowmore glanced at Velen as he said this before returning his gaze to his monarch.
Anduin considered this new report very carefully before he told the man, "Thank you for your quick report, Agent Shadowmore. Return to the Plaguelands and see if you can learn more. Find this man and observe him. Keep us updated. You are dismissed."
"Yes, your majesty. At once." Shadowmore replied as he turned and walked from the throne room.
Those remaining in the throne room looked to each other trying to gauge their reactions. It was finally Anduin himself who had spoken. "This is no longer just a ridiculous rumor. Imagine, a cure for the Forsaken. Do you realize what this could mean?" Hope crept into his voice as thoughts filled his mind.
"Yes..." Greymane replied, though his voice sounded more uncertain and pensive. "Yes, I do." A certain menace crept into his words, but only briefly. He then added, "We need to find this man Jeshua at once and talk to him. We need to determine whose side he is truly on."
"I will travel to Hearthglen." Velen then told them. "If he is going there, then I will find and speak with him. We will learn the answers to all of these questions."
And there is another who may wish to travel with me, he thought to himself, remembering his conversation with the carpenter in the trade district. He felt the Davidsons had a right to know where their son was.
Near Hearthglen, days later…
The two undead elven women tracked silently and swiftly along the old forest road. Like their mistress, their eyes glowed red under black cowls and cloaks, and their hauntingly beautiful elven features were marred only by the dead grayness of their otherwise flawless skin. Unlike their human counterparts, their elven physiology resisted the decay and decomposition which tore apart other Forsaken over time. They had picked up the trail of hundreds of people along the river's edge east of Tarren Mill and followed it intently. It had not been difficult to follow. Those who made the tracks made no attempts to conceal them, and were clearly inexperienced at doing so. Cold campfires had been left along the way.
The trail led from the river up to the road north and into Chillwind Camp before it continued along the road to the western bridge into Andorhal. The Deathguards had bowed their heads deferentially to the Dark Rangers when they entered the city, a look of fear in the undead soldiers' eyes at their appearance. Ignoring the soldiers, the Rangers pressed on through the city, continuing to track their prey at the Dark Lady's command.
The thought had occurred to the Ranger Aiyana to question the soldiers and the High Executor in charge of the city, but then she dismissed it for the moment. The trail was clear, and though she did not know how the soldiers and garrison commander here could fail to miss two hundred people, humans if the story was to be believed, passing through Andorhal, there would be no need at the moment to relate the circumstances to them as the Dark Lady appeared to want the story silenced if possible. They would, however, most certainly interrogate the High Executor at a later time to demand an explanation.
Passing through the city, they followed the trail north along the roads until they became nothing but dirt pathways stamped with impressions of hundreds of feet, and then the dirt pathway ended as the trail continued through the hills to the north where there was only one possible destination for them to go.
Hearthglen.
Far ahead of the two Rangers could be seen a much smaller group of Forsaken, two women and three men who had been human before the plague, all of them dressed in civilian clothes and appearing to be mostly unarmed. They were hiking the way through the hills having left the dirt path towards what the Rangers knew to be the gates of the Argent Crusade stronghold.
It was a curious sight to the two hooded Rangers. They followed the party discreetly at a distance to see where they were going and what would happen, vanishing and blending into the trees and foliage as their mistress had trained them to do long before their own undeath.
The group of travelers continued up the road and then up the hill until they stopped at the gates which had been built into the natural cleft between the rocky hills surrounding the Crusade's lands, the banners of the neutral Paladin order, the pointed gray cross with a shining circle of light in the center set against a white background. As the Rangers watched them, they seemed to be uncertain about proceeding.
Then, a patrol of armed guards wearing tabards with the same sigil emerged through the gate to head down the road. The guards were made up of male and female humans, elves from among the Kaldorei and Sindorei, and even Orcs. Seeing the group of travelers, the guards stopped them but took no aggressive action.
The Dark Rangers drew closer swiftly and silently to hear what was passing between them.
"We've come to see the Priest, Jeshua. We heard he was here." One of the Forsaken women, a woman with dull, torn brown hair and cerulean colored dead flesh wearing a black button down dress and high leather boots, spoke to a muscular bearded Orc wearing the Argent Crusade tabard. "We don't want any trouble." She added.
"The human preacher?" The Orc asked, his voice deep and rich. "He's here. He and the others arrived a few days ago. Lord Tyrosus has extended the protection of the Argent Crusade to them as our guests. What do you want with him?"
"We've heard he can cure us." Another man with tattered greenish flesh and only traces of blond hair left on his scalp spoke up. "He can make us living again."
"Hmph. I've heard the same from everyone that came with him. You'll find Hearthglen a lot more crowded than it used to be. Leave your weapons with us and you may enter." The Orc told them sincerely.
Each of the Forsaken travelers drew their daggers from their belts and, turning them so that the hilts faced the patrol guards, handed them over. "Satisfied?" The first undead woman asked drily.
The Orc grunted and then nodded. He then turned to one of the human guards with them, a younger man with crimson colored hair and only wisps of a beard and mustache still growing in. "Darek, escort these people to the house where the preacher and his followers are staying."
"Yes, sir." Darek replied. "Please, follow me." He then told the group.
The five Forsaken people then passed up through the gates and disappeared from view led by the guard. The Dark Rangers then quickly and unnaturally scrambled up the hills and rocks almost spider like, the natural barriers proving no barrier at all to the undead elf women who found handholds where none should have existed. Dropping into the town from the surrounding hills and remaining behind structures, and blending in with the shadows ghostlike they moved through the town tracking their quarry. Within seconds they had reacquired a view of the Forsaken party, but unseen and unnoticed by the patrols and population of the town.
The party of undead civilians were led to a two story structure on the west side of the sizable town which appeared to be almost wholly untouched by the effects of the plague which had devastated Lordaeron. The streets and building of the town appeared to be busy and packed with people. Everywhere, troops bearing the standard of the Argent Crusade were training and on guard.
The town and surrounding lands had formerly belonged to Tirion Fordring and his family, being usurped after his fall from grace with the Paladin Order of the Silver Hand after it had been learned he allowed an Orc warrior to live in an abandoned tower on his lands after the second war. Stripped of his lands, title, and even, it had been thought, of the Light itself, and abandoned by his family, he escaped along with the Orc warrior to live in the wilds until he discovered that the Light hadn't abandoned him. By that point in time, his lands had become the base of operations for the Scarlet Crusade, a brutal, merciless group of Priests and Paladins that persecuted and destroyed both Scourge and Forsaken, as well as anyone else who would get in their way. They had been invited there by his well meaning, but naive son who later paid for his mistake with his life. Later, after the Third War Tirion would form the Argent Crusade to fight the Lich King and his Scourge apart from factional hatreds. After the defeat of the Lich King, he and the Crusade had returned to Hearthglen to drive the Scarlet Crusade out and reclaim his lands. After his death on the Broken Shore, the Crusade continued on with his ideals and acceptance by the Light of all races regardless of faction or political affiliation. Now led by Maxwell Tyrosus, they would be the shining beacon of the Light to fight against the darkness.
The Dark Rangers watched the Forsaken people enter the house from a distance, observing every detail, but fully aware there was no way for them to slip in there unnoticed. Even from that distance, they could see that the house was already so filled with humans that they were pressed up against the windows. They waited behind a nearby stable, eyes locked on the house's windows and doors for any sign.
After several minutes, they saw flashes of bright radiant light emanating from the downstairs windows of the house. It burned for several seconds and then faded again. They waited much longer after that for any other movement. After the sun began to dip much lower in the sky, five humans stepped out of the doorway of the house accompanied by another human man wearing the armor of a Deathguard. Those other five humans all wore the exact same clothes with the exact same rips and tears in them that the Forsaken party they were tracking had worn.
The gestured silently to each other, speaking with hands signals only, "Do you see what I see?" Aiyana asked her sister in arms.
"Yes, but it's not possible." Terena replied with her hands. "We must inform our mistress."
With gestures only, Aiyana said, "Go. Return to the queen. Tell her we've found them, and the human responsible."
Terena nodded in agreement then took out a white stone with a sapphire blue spiral. Gripping it tightly in her hand she whispered, "Undercity."
Had anyone known to watch, they might have noticed a quick blue flash of light behind the stable.
Not much later that same day in Hearthglen…
At first it was merely a buzzing in the air near the front of Mardenholde Keep, the ancestral home of the Fordring family and now the training headquarters of the Argent Crusade. Then a narrow point of sapphire energy appeared from nowhere, hovering in the air. The point expanded outwards into what looked like an oval tear or puddle of blue light standing vertically. Those who saw it became alert, sending people to notify Lord Tyrosus immediately, but they took no hostile action. Travel by mage's portal was common and most recognized one opening when they saw it.
When the portal had reached the same height as a tall human, a much taller, aged Draenei man in vestments stepped through it, placing his left blue hoof firmly on the ground before it was joined by his right. Then stepping away from the portal, two more Draenei men dressed in the armor of the vindicators of their people followed him. Finally, a much shorter human woman in her mid thirties with shoulder length strawberry blond hair and green eyes wearing a dark blue woolen dress and white blouse came next, followed by a man not much older than she dressed in Mage's robes. Most onlookers presumed that the latter man was the Mage that had opened the portal.
When the portal closed again, the aged Draenei man turned to the Mage and said, "Wait here for the moment. We may still need you to return to Stormwind tonight."
"Of course, your grace." The royal Mage had replied to Velen.
The woman's eyes were wide as she looked around her new surroundings. Miriam Davidson had never traveled by Mage's portal and the effect was disorienting. One minute she had been standing in Stormwind Keep with the Draenei and the Mage, and then she had just stepped into the blue light and found herself in the middle of a town she had never seen before.
Velen had returned to her husband's shop where he had finally been able to introduce himself to her and why he had been searching for her. He had told her that he meant to travel north into Hearthglen in the Western Plaguelands and under the circumstances had felt he should offer to bring her with him.
"I believe it is time I met your son, Mrs. Davidson." The Draenei cleric had told her. "I am willing to bring you with me if you wish. I believe this to be only right. I cannot promise it will not be without risk. The Plaguelands are a dangerous place, but I understand it has been a long time since you have seen him. I too had a son once that I thought lost a long, long time ago. I would have given almost anything to see him again before the end came." His eyes had misted over when he told her this. "I would give you that chance that I did not have."
Joseph and her teenage sons had agreed to remain behind with Sarah and await word from her, though he had of course wanted to join her. "Just let me know he's okay." Joseph had told her. "That's all I want to know."
She now stood beside that same Draenei man that wanted to speak with her son as well, her eyes wide open looking this way and that. Would she see him right away? Would she know even what he looked like now? How much had he changed? He would be a full grown man by now.
A tall, muscular human wearing ornate plate armor of a Pandaran origin, a black eyepatch over his right eye, and the tabard of the Argent Crusade then came walking out of the gates of the Keep with a Night Elf woman in armor wearing the same tabard walking behind him slightly. He had short, graying strawberry hair and a flowing handlebar mustache.
"Prophet Velen," The man addressed the elder Draenei, offering his hand in a friendly, familiar gesture. "This is an honor. I haven't seen you since the battle at Antorus. That was a costly victory." His tone of voice was one of one old soldier reminiscing with another.
"Indeed it was, Lord Tyrosus." Velen returned, remembering it all too well, ignoring the man's use of his former title. "We lost many good people that day. But Azeroth was at least saved and the Legion destroyed once and for all at its root. I am glad to see you well and your people thriving."
Velen glanced around at the large number of people and gestured towards them.
"Yes, well they're not all exactly ours. A couple hundred of them came as refugees a few days ago along with a strange vagabond teacher called Jeshua." Tyrosus replied. "They came with the most incredible story I have ever heard. I would have called it crazy, but when two hundred people are telling you the same thing, you have to pay attention to it."
"Jeshua?" Miriam nearly gasped, listening to the conversation. "You know where he is, my lord?"
"Indeed, my lady. He and his followers have been given use of a house on the west side of Hearthglen." Tyrosus replied to her. Noticing her for the first time he studied her features feeling like he had seen her before. "You look familiar, have we met, lady?"
"No, my lord. I'm sure I would have remembered." She replied. "May I see him, my lord?" She asked hopefully.
"Yes, indeed." Velen added. "He is, in fact, the reason why we have come. News of his… er, exploits have reached all of the Eastern Kingdoms, Stormwind included. I would very much like to speak with him as well."
"I have no objections, and from what I've heard from him, I can't see why he would either. I will lead you there myself." Lord Tyrosus told them.
They began walking towards the western edge of the town, passing a number of recruits wearing the Argent tabard as well as people dressed in torn clothing that appeared as though it might have belonged on a corpse once.
Just as they were about to reach the house, guards came running up to their leader, "My lord, you need to come quickly to the gates!"
"I have guests, Marcus." He replied to the guard who had spoken to him. "What is so urgent?"
"The Banshee Queen, my lord!" Marcus replied, the fear evident on his features. "She's here with a contingent of her archers! She's waiting at the gate and asked to speak with you!"
"Sylvanas is here?" Maxwell Tyrosus repeated, alarm in his voice. "Damn." He swore. He then turned to the guards with him and said, gesturing to Miriam, "Take this woman and the Mage that brought them back to the Keep! Get the civilians under cover! Get the recruits armed and wait for my word! Go!"
"Wait! I want to see my son!" Miriam protested, but the guards followed their orders and took her back the way they had come until those orders were to be changed.
Concern in his own voice, Velen said, "I understood you were on neutral footing with the Horde."
"We are. We always have been. Half of our recruits come from Horde lands." Tyrosus responded. "Their warchief has never bothered to pay us a visit any more than Stormwind's king has."
The Paladin then looked towards the civilians being brought into the houses and towers of the town. "But I've got a good idea why she would be here now. I believe you and your vindicators should remain here for the moment until I know what she wants."
"We will." He agreed. They were standing next to the house to which Tyrosus had been leading them to meet Jeshua.
"What's happening?" A man in the armor of a Forsaken Deathguard came out of the house asking, glancing briefly at the tall Draenei visitors before facing the Paladin lord. "Why are people being ordered off the streets."
"Your queen has come. She's at the gates." Tyrosus responded.
"The Dark Lady? She's here?" The Deathguard replied. "She's come for us, then."
"I'm going to find out, but I'd say it was a safe bet; you and the Priest you brought with you." Tyrosus replied. "You know we don't take sides, and you are her people."
"We are." The human Deathguard nodded in agreement. "Then let us meet her in an appropriate manner. I will inform the teacher as well."
The Deathguard returned back into the house and Tyrosus left Velen where he was to meet the undead queen.
When the Paladin lord reached the gates he found himself looking at a skeletal horse with detailed purple barding armor ringed in unnatural violet fire. The horse's skull was clearly exposed with demonic horns like an elk's extending up sharply. It was both terrifying and majestic in it's appearance. The undead horse's rider was no less so.
"I don't like to be kept waiting, Paladin." Sylvanas Windrunner told him as he approached.
"It takes some time to get from Mardenholde to the gates, Sylvanas." He retorted. His sense of etiquette towards the Horde warchief was dimmed by the ten hooded undead Dark Rangers that flanked her. "Didn't think you needed to bring your whole army today?" He asked, only half sarcastically.
"I'm not here to fight with you, Lord Tyrosus." She returned. "I'm looking for a large number of my townspeople that left Tarren Mill over a week ago. My Rangers tell me that they are here. I seek to speak with them. I want to know why they abandoned the town and came here."
You know damn good and well why they left or you wouldn't be here. Tyrosus thought but didn't say. To the Forsaken queen he said, "I've given them sanctuary and the protection of the Argent Crusade. As long as your Rangers stay here, you can enter and speak with them. I give you my word no harm will come to you."
Sylvanas smirked at the idea that she needed her Rangers' protection. "And why would my own people need protection from me? I am the one who protects them."
She then motioned for her Rangers to hold where they were while her mount moved forward.
"You'll have to ask them that. They've all undergone a few, uh… changes." Tyrosus told her as he stepped aside and allowed her horse to pass through the gates.
"Show me." She demanded.
She road next to him as he led her into the town. On the streets around them were dozens of men and women of all races wearing the tabards of the Crusade. All of them kept their swords sheathed, but hands rested comfortably on the pommels ready to draw them at a moment's notice.
"I see you continue to maintain your inclusion of all races, Alliance and Horde, in your order." Sylvanas noted as she saw the Orcs, Tauren, and Blood Elves wearing the Argent colors alongside humans, dwarves, and Night Elves.
"Tirion wouldn't have it any other way and neither would I." Tyrosus responded. "I've known good and honorable warriors on both sides. I even still keep in touch with Liadrin on occasion in Silvermoon. Fought side by side with her on Argus."
"No doubt." Sylvanas replied evenly.
They walked a little ways farther. And then in front of them as they approached stood two rows of helmeted Deathguards in the street next to a house. Sylvanas counted twenty in all who wore the armor of her soldiers and the colors of her people. A little ways behind them stood three Draenei, one of whom she recognized very well. They stood silently, observing the proceedings but remaining at a distance. Taking note of their presence, she turned her attention back to the Deathguards in front of her.
As she approached the Deathguards she could sense something wrong. These were all living humans.
"What is this?" Sylvanas asked, pulling the reins up on her horse.
Then the Deathguards all as one dropped to one knee before her horse and saluted her. "My queen." One of them addressed her.
"Who are you? What trickery is this?" She demanded of the Paladin. "What happened to my people?"
"My queen, we are your people. We left Tarren Mill over a week ago." The Deathguard replied.
"Remove your helmet, Deathguard. Let me see your face." She ordered him, disbelieving.
The Deathguard obeyed and removed his helmet. What she saw was sweaty blond hair covering a healthy pale skinned human head and intelligent but fearful brown eyes. "My queen, we have been cured."
She studied the man's features, looking for any evidence of magic or trickery but could find none. Still, she could not believe what her own eyes and senses were telling her. Her elven ears could pick out the heart beat of the men in front of her, but no human would ever address her as queen.
"Swear to me your loyalty, Deathguards. Prove to me that you are Forsaken." She demanded of them.
Each man in Forsaken armor drew his sword and planted the tip of it firmly on the cobblestone of the street. "We so swear our lives to you, Sylvanas Windrunner, our queen."
Taken aback by their lack of hesitation, and the pride with which they said it, mixed with fear though it was, she asked, "How did this happen to you?"
"My queen, it was through the powers of a teacher called Jeshua who appears to have an unusual command of the Light." The guard responded, his tone deferential.
"The Light?" She repeated, her own features appearing stunned at the thought. Of course she had been told as much by the Orc, Krusk, but here was the evidence clearly laid out in front of her. "The Light cured you?"
"Yes, my queen, and not just us but the entire town of Tarren Mill." The Deathguard replied. "All of us."
Sylvanas tried to wrap her mind around it and found that she couldn't. Up to that point, she hadn't truly believed the Orc soldiers' wild tale and thought that something else had caused the people of the town to go mad and desert their homes and responsibilities.
There is a cure. A real cure. The thought ran through her mind again and again. After all this time, there is a cure. There is a hope for us.
"Where is this man who is responsible?" She demanded. "I would speak with him."
"Of course, my queen. By your leave." The Deathguard answered, not moving until she had gestured her permission. He then quickly exited into the house next to them. A few minutes later he returned followed by a thin human in tattered brown linen clothes, worn down to threads and stained from hard travel. His heavily calloused feet were bare.
Sylvanas studied the human's face for some time. I know that face. She thought to herself, but did not immediately recognize from where. His reddish blond hair tied back in a ponytail and full beard reminded her strongly of someone, but who? She couldn't put her finger on it. Otherwise, he appeared to be an average young human man. There appeared to be nothing different about him at all except…
He was smiling at her. It wasn't a fearful smile at all, but a calm and sincere one as though he was genuinely glad to see her. No one was genuinely glad to see the Banshee Queen. This man Jeshua smiled a welcome to her like she was an old friend he hadn't seen in a long, long time, and wanted to get to know again.
"Who are you, human?" She demanded from him from the back of her horse.
"My name is Jeshua, Sylvanas, but you already knew that." Jeshua responded.
Not a dullard at least then. She thought.
"What did you do to my people? What magic or sorcery did you use for this?" She questioned him, gesturing to the Deathguards.
"No sorcery." He responded. "The Light wants to restore, heal, and save everyone. The Light abandons no one, Sylvanas." He then repeated it again for emphasis, "No one." And then added, "The Light calls all into its embrace."
Sylvanas' eyes opened wide at his words and his manner. Is the human out of his mind? She looked again though at the now living Deathguards still kneeling before her in deference. Can it really be true? She wondered.
She weighed his answer, and the evidence before her eyes. "We've searched for decades to find a cure for our…" She searched for the right word before settling on, "condition. No one, no Shaman, no Druid, no Priest has ever been able to do what these claim you have done to them. How is that possible?"
"The Light loves this world and every person in it." He responded. "The Light sent me as a message to everyone here that whoever would come to me would find healing and salvation."
"The Light burns us human. Paladins and Priests used the Light to hunt us like animals." She retorted, her bitterness and anger rising to the surface.
"The Light hasn't sent me to destroy anyone, but that all those who come to me might be saved." He told her, and then emphasized again, "Everyone, Sylvanas." His green eyes met her red glowing ones directly as he said this, his voice taking an urging personal tone as if he wanted her to fully understand his meaning.
"You haven't answered my question, human. How can you do what the others could not?" She demanded, decades of anger rising behind her eyes.
"The Light asks forgiveness in return for forgiveness. It asks that we not judge others in return for not being judged. How can a man who harbors anger and hatred truly be used by the Light to heal others? There has been far too much hatred and anger in this world for far too long. The Light calls all to forgive. The Light calls all to healing and peace." He told her.
Velen stood motionless in the background listening to his words. Even though the man's back was to him, his words felt like daggers directed at the Draenei cleric himself.
"Forgiveness?" She questioned, pronouncing the word as something alien and unfamiliar to her. But there was a sincerity and genuineness in his eyes and expression that argued strongly for his own belief in his words.
Jeshua then began to tell a story, "At one time, a great king had called all of his servants that owed money to him to repay their debts. There was one man, an accountant, who often took large loans from the king's treasury to spend on risky personal ventures. The king having heard what the man had done ordered him to appear before him where the list of the man's debts, over a million gold pieces in total, was read out to him. Furious, the king demanded the money repaid immediately. Of course, the man's investments had all gone sour and he had nothing with which to repay him. The king then ordered the man stripped, beaten, and thrown into prison. He then ordered all of his property and possessions sold to repay his debt. The accountant then threw himself on the king's mercy and begged for his life and that of his family saying, 'Your majesty, please have mercy with me. Please be patient. I swear I will pay you back everything!' Moved by the man's plea, he then dismissed him and, already being extravagantly wealthy, forgave the man's entire debt. The accountant however, terrified at what had just happened went and found one of his underlings to whom he had loaned a hundred gold the other day. He grabbed the man by the neck and demanded the money back. The underling groveled at his feet and begged for patience from the man, saying that he would have the money by the next day, but the accountant was furious that he didn't have it right then. He then fired the man and had his possessions confiscated to repay his debt, throwing the underling out onto the street. The underling's co-workers however saw what had happened and went to the king pleading for justice for their friend. When the king heard, he was furious and then ordered the accountant to be brought before him in chains. When he arrived, the king told him, 'I let a million gold pieces just go because you begged me for mercy, and you couldn't even be patient for a hundred?' Then the king carried out the man's imprisonment, selling everything he had and throwing his family out with the homeless and outcasts. The man went mad in the darkness of the prison cell, and eventually died there."
"Forgiveness is the key, Sylvanas." Jeshua then told her. "Forgiveness opens the door so that the Light can shine at its brightest within all of us. Without forgiveness a man falls willingly into darkness like throwing a shade over a lamp to blot out the light."
Velen listened to him intently, his own emotions and feeling warring within himself.
Sylvanas' mind was working as he spoke trying to understand his stake or angle in this. When he was done, she asked, "And my people. What about them, Jeshua? Are they yours now? Do you intend for them to head south to Stormwind?"
"Their will is theirs alone." He replied. "It is their choice whom they will follow, isn't it?" At this he gestured to the Deathguards, still kneeling in fealty to their queen.
The words hit her like an arrow for the impact they had upon her. "They are free to make their own choices, yes." She replied. "I gave them that choice when I freed them from Arthas' grasp."
Jeshua nodded. "I haven't taken it from them. They are free to stay or go as they see fit."
Sylvanas thought about this deeply. If she reacted against them and this man, not only would it make an enemy of the Argent Crusade, it would be seen by all those present, including Aiyana whom she knew was still watching nearby, as a rescinding of her "gift" to them. Word would spread among her people that she no longer acted for them but for her own power alone and she would lose the support of the Forsaken themselves. Without them, others would easily oust her from her tenuous position as warchief. If she accepted them and their oath of loyalty, human though they were, she kept them under her banner and she lost no troops or manpower. Indeed, she might even keep spies willing and able to infiltrate Alliance positions and bases without so much as a glance in their direction. But then there was the rest of the Horde to think about. Would they accept humans into their ranks?
They've been cured. She reminded herself. It's what we've all been wanting since Arthas stole our lives from us.
Damn politics. Everything I have done, I have done for them. She told herself.
"Yes," she finally said, "They are."
Then, addressing the Deathguards she said, "Tell the people of Tarren Mill they are free to return to their homes in Hillsbrad without fear of reprisal or… 'reconditioning'. I am warchief of the entire Horde as well as queen of the Forsaken, and I protect my people's interests. All of my people regardless of their race. That is the burden Vol'jin gave me to bear, and I will see it through."
To Jeshua she then said, "My people are free to come to you as they see fit. I leave the choice up to them whether they want the cure you have or not, just as I gave them that choice to begin with. Do not mislead them, human, or interfere with the Horde's business. If you do, you will suffer my full wrath."
"Of course, Sylvanas. All who come to me will find rest and peace in the Light, no matter who they are." Jeshua replied, his own smile never wavering. "I look forward to speaking with you again."
Sylvanas looked at him, an eyebrow cocked at his presumption. But then she smirked at him. The human had courage at least. "We shall see." She finally said.
She then pulled on her reins and turned her skeletal mount around. Nodding respectfully at a stunned Lord Tyrosus, she rode back through the town towards the Dark Rangers who awaited her. As she rode, the thought of Nathanos, her oldest friend and confidante, came to her mind, but not as he now was. Instead the thought of his handsome features, and the way he held her hand long before the plague, filtered its way into her thoughts and she couldn't stop them.
There is a cure, Nathanos. She found herself thinking. There is a cure.