Whew, writing Bad!Auriana is strangely tiring. I hope you enjoy the chapter, and I'd love to know what you think!

Auriana

Auriana felt a powerful spark kindle in the pit of her stomach as her unfettered rage took hold. The spark soon became a roaring bonfire as it raced its way along her arms to the tips of her fingers, coalescing as raw, untamed magic. Every inch of her felt like it was aflame, but it was a sweet agony, and she delighted in the burn. Her eyes flew open, and the world snapped into crystal clear focus. Time seemed to slow down, and she felt curiously calm, as if she were the eye of a great, swirling tempest.

"Enough!" she heard herself scream, as if from a distance, as she recklessly shattered the arcane shield she had been holding. "I will choke you on your magic and drown you in your blood, Mar'gok!"

Mar'gok's casting paused for the barest second, and he finally gave her his attention. She knew from the look in his eyes that he'd sensed the change within her, and if anyone were to understand how much power she was now drawing, it was Mar'gok. Auriana grinned savagely as she recognised the expression on his dense ogre faces.

The Imperator was afraid.

Auriana's grin widened as she realised she was still linked to the Kirin Tor mages who had managed to remain standing. When she'd shattered the shield and stopped directing the flow of their collective magic, they'd begun to cast at Mar'gok in earnest, though the link between each of them remained strong. The air was thick with flying spells from all schools of magic, but it all looked slow and weak to Auriana's now furious eyes.

Pitiful, her rage growled. Such a waste.

Not a one of the Kirin Tor mages could hold a candle to the depths of Auriana's natural power, but it infuriated her that even the slightest drop of magic would go to waste. None of them were casting to their fullest, having been brainwashed by the Kirin Tor to believe in the concepts of safety and limits when it came to spellcasting. Auriana growled low in her chest. If the Kirin Tor wouldn't do what was necessary, then she would.

Normally, a link between mages was a thing of serene connectedness, but Auriana didn't have time for anything that even resembled harmony. She turned her burning gaze upon the closest mage, vaguely recognising Elwin Lansing in the second before she began to draw on vast amounts of his power. He cried out in surprise and pain, trying to resist her dominance, only to collapse in shock a second later as she drained him nearly dry. She felt along for the next mage in the chain, and then the next, and soon the room was filled with fainting mages as Auriana seized their power for her own. She could hear the unrest amongst her soldiers, shouting in fear as they saw the mages fall, but she was entirely beyond caring.

Between her own considerable abilities, the raw energy of her berserker rage, and now the surge of power stolen from the linked mages, Auriana became a terrifying beacon of arcane power. She was certainly the greatest threat in the room, a fact which Mar'gok now fully realised. He ceased trying to split his focus among her soldiers, and instead engaged Auriana in a one-on-one magical duel.

Fuelled by her rage, Auriana could feel her face twist into a gleeful snarl as she threw herself into the fight with abandon, matching Mar'gok spell for spell. She had a fierce love for duelling, and she was in her element as she engaged the sorcerer king. Mar'gok had experience and knowledge of the countless arcane secrets hoarded by the Gorian Empire, but Auriana had her fury, and an utter lack of concern for whether she lived or died. She exercised the full extent of her power without a single thought for safety, be it her own or anyone else's. She could feel blood pouring from her nose as she summoned more and more power, but the metallic tang against her lips only served to drive her into a greater frenzy.

Auriana lost track of time and space as she fought, losing herself in the magnificent, endless flow of magic. She called upon frost, arcane, and fire all, casting spells that she never would have dared attempt had she been in her right mind. Surprisingly, she found that her abilities with fire had dramatically improved. She suddenly understood what it was to burn, and she delighted in conjuring great, cascading waves of flame. Somewhere deep inside, she began to feel the physical strain of her recklessness, but she didn't care. Auriana now lived for nothing else save for the magic.

A small fragment of her mind remained focused on Mar'gok, countering every spell he attempted, and punishing him with her own brutally effective casts. The ogre king's faces were contorted in concentration and open fear, and with a vicious, bloodthirsty snarl, Auriana realised that she was winning.

"Who are you, Mar'gok, to stand against me?" she roared wildly, throwing the Imperator's earlier words back in his face as she bore her will down upon him. "Learn your place."

Mar'gok stumbled as she hammered him with fire, and Auriana sensed her chance. The ogre sorcerer had spent himself trying to contain her, and he had utterly failed. Auriana strode forwards through a curtain of flame, blasting Mar'gok's last, feeble attempt at a spell from her path, and prepared a mighty death blow.

"Ha!" she screamed triumphantly, burning the ogre's heart from his chest with a powerful blast of flame.

As Mar'gok fell, the room fell strangely silent, and all Auriana could hear was the frantic pounding of her own heart. She stalked over to the charred corpse of the once-mighty Imperator, and savagely tore the Sigil of Sorcerer King from his fat, stubby fingers. She held the ring up above her head and screamed her triumph. The Sigil was big enough to fit over her slender wrist, and it hummed with dangerous, forbidden magics.

The ring glinted temptingly in the dying light, and Auriana wondered what she would be capable of with such an artifact at her disposal. She could sense the deep, powerful magic contained within the ring, and she had a sudden vision of herself atop Highmaul, ruling as the new Imperator. Here she was, surely the equal of any demigod, and yet the Alliance had only seen fit to make her a mere commander. Less than that - she was here as Khadgar's errand girl, sent to retrieve a ring as if she could not slaughter the Archmage as soon as look at him.

Why shouldn't I take it? she wondered. With this kind of power, I could forge the greatest empire Draenor has ever known...

Her rapid, rambling thoughts were interrupted by the loud ring of steel on stone, and she whirled to see a war-torn band of Alliance soldiers staring at her in open-mouthed shock.

My men, she remembered vaguely. Men who could serve.

If she were to be empress of Highmaul, she would need followers. She lifted her chin with an imperious stare, and she prepared to beat the Alliance men into supplication. They would kneel before her, or be destroyed.

Stop, a small, firm voice said from somewhere inside her, but Auriana's rage refused to listen

"Commander?" she heard someone say uncertainly, the sound barely audible over the furious ringing in her ears. "Are… are ye alright, lass?"

It was Delvar Ironfist. She turned upon him, flames dancing along her fingertips, and she wanted nothing more than to teach the undead knight what true death meant.

STOP, came the voice again, louder this time, and Auriana hesitated.

She blinked rapidly as she was torn in two, vacillating wildly between her unslaked rage and her faintly remembered love for her men. There was real fear in Ironfist's eyes, and she didn't miss the fact that his hands tightened on the haft of his axe. A distant part of her mind reminded her that she'd once told Ironfist of her secret fury, and had warned him what to do in the event that she was unable to maintain control. Ironfist had doubted her warning, she recalled, and yet here they were, with Auriana rapidly losing the battle for the better half of her soul.

The fireblast at Auriana's fingertips wavered as she remembered herself for a moment, only to have her fury reassert its dominance as it howled for Ironfist's blood. An agonised scream tore from her throat as she wrestled with her conflicting desires to alternatively protect or obliterate her men.

"Run!"

She managed to choke out the single word as her fury surged, and she turned away, clinging to the fleeting vestiges of her control. Her men were not stupid, and they had seen exactly the kind of mayhem she was capable of unleashing. They didn't have to be told twice, and Auriana tried to block out the sound of scraping steel and heavy footfalls as her soldiers fled for their safety.

Auriana heard that slam of the great stone door as they abandoned her, and she was left alone with nothing but the corpse of Mar'gok for company. She collapsed to the ground, clenching her fists so tight that she drew blood from her palms. The pain paled in comparison to the magic tearing its way through her veins, as she desperately sought any kind of release. She sent arcane explosion after arcane explosion blasting away from her body as she lay on the cold stone floor, twitching and shivering as she tried to expel her excess power.

Auriana could no longer remember a time when she wasn't burning. She tore her hair blindly from its neat bindings, and shuddered as it tumbled across her shoulders. Her fingers scraped across the stone floor, drawing blood, as hot, furious tears stained her cheeks. She had no idea how long she lay on the floor of the Arcane Sanctum, screaming and shaking as she waged a war for control of her very soul.

The only thing holding her in even slightly in check was the half-remembered voice in the back of her mind that had pleaded for her to stop. The voice was not her own, however, but rather one deep, calm and oddly familiar. With a sudden lurch, Auriana realised that it sounded like Varian. She latched on to his name like a lifeline, dragging herself away from her rage and towards the thought of her king. His handsome, square-jawed face blossomed in her mind's eye, and she focused everything she had on the memory. She couldn't imagine what the King would think if he could see her now, blood drying on her lower jaw as her body twisted and contorted on the ground. She felt a hot rush of shame, but she found the feeling strangely comforting. Shame was at the very least not rage, and it was the first different emotion that she'd felt since embracing her inner fire.

With every thought of Varian, Auriana dragged herself back from the abyss. She remembered all of him, from the proud intensity of his gaze to the rich boom of his sarcastic laugh, and with each thought her heartbeat slowed. Gradually, achingly, the fire faded from her veins, and finally Auriana came back to her senses.

The chamber around her was now dark, and she vaguely wondered how much time had passed. With Mar'gok's death, the braziers lighting the great stone citadel had extinguished, and Auriana realised that they must have been tied into in his magic. Auriana was reluctant to cast any sort of spell after the disaster she'd just caused, but it soon began apparent that she would need light if she were to make her way out of the citadel. After several long minutes of deep breathing, Auriana finally summoned a small burst of fire to her hand. It was a faint, reluctant thing, but it was sufficient enough to ignite a nearby torch upon the wall. The single spell, normally such a tiny magic, sent a dull ache through her temples. Auriana had pushed herself to her physical limit in fighting Mar'gok, and she knew it would be several days before she regained her full capacity.

At the thought of Mar'gok, Auriana turned her head to inspect the nearby corpse. Her stomach churned in revulsion as she saw the charred, ruined mess that had once been the Imperator's chest, and she clenched her fists as she remembered that it was she who had done such horrific damage. She saw something gleam faintly beside him in the torchlight, and she realised that the Sigil of the Sorcerer King had rolled away in her hysterical throes. Auriana walked slowly over to retrieve the thick band from where it had come to rest. She felt a faint tingle of temptation as she picked up the powerful relic, but she beat it down brutally, sending it back to the dark place within her soul from whence it came. The artifact belonged to Khadgar now, and she would be glad to see the back of it. The Alliance had won the day, but she wondered if she had paid too great a price for the victory.

Eager to leave the sanctum behind her, Auriana turned quickly and headed down towards the lower levels of Highmaul citadel. She could have simply teleported out, but she found that walking was oddly calming, and it gave her time to gather her thoughts. Moreover, she was downright afraid to face her men, afraid of what she would see when they looked up at her, and the longer she could put it off, the better. The halls were eerie and quiet in dancing torchlight, and Auriana was sorely tempted to simply lock herself away in Highmaul for good.

It was raining by the time she emerged into the lower city. Auriana was soon soaked and shivering, but she felt it was nothing less than she deserved. In the near distance, she could see her forces packing down the temporary war camp and preparing to evacuation to Lunarfall. The wounded were being well looked after, and she could see the bright, soothing glow of healing magics as they lit up the overcast sky.

The busy camp fell impossibly still and silent as she approached. Auriana lacked the easy charisma and geniality of some of the other Alliance leadership, but she was generally well-liked and well-respected. She was used to seeing trust and comradeship on the faces of her men, but instead she now saw only shock, and something that looked a lot like fear. She stiffened, her heart twisting as the full realisation of what she had lost in her rage hit her like a battering ram.

"Fall… fall back to Lunarfall," she said finally, her voice trembling. "Send the most critically wounded first. You can… you can call on Stormshield for aid if our healers alone are insufficient."

No one in the crowd moved. They all simply stared back at her, a haunting, deafening silence in the air. Even the normally jubilant Lieutenant Gale seemed stunned. Auriana didn't dare meet the gaze of any of the Kirin Tor mages who had regained consciousness. From what she could see, they were all alive, despite the brutal manner in which she had turned the link against them, but that didn't ease her turmoil in the slightest.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled blindly, her voice cracking. "I… I need to see Khadgar."

Auriana gripped the hard-won sigil ring tightly, clinging on to the only positive thing that had come from this terrible day. Unable to take the stares any longer, she called down a portal to Zangarra, and disappeared as fast as she was physically able.

Khadgar's tower was carefully warded, and it was only possible to teleport directly to the outskirts of the area. From there, Auriana had to take a second, short range portal in order to reach the tower proper. The outer portal was carefully guarded, and the current watch reeled in surprise as they recognised her. Auriana belatedly realised that she must have looked a terrible sight, with her bloody face, battle-worn robes and soaked hair. She didn't say a word to the watch guards, however, merely nodding in acknowledgement as she stepped into the portal. She was carried downwards in a burst of arcane magic, and was deposited on the front stairs of the mage tower.

Auriana swept inside, climbing the stairs to Khadgar's personal study. She'd been to Zangarra many times, and knew it almost as well as her own garrison. It was now quite late at night, but if she knew Khadgar, he'd still be awake, poring over some arcane tome or another. Her suspicion was proven correct as she pushed past Cordana Felsong into Khadgar's private quarters.

The Archmage looked up from his book in surprise as she entered, his warm expression turning dark as he took in her dishevelled appearance.

"Auri... " Khadgar said worriedly. "What… what happened? Are you alright?"

At the sight of him, Auriana felt her blood surge. His eyes were concerned and kind, but she didn't care. She had given everything of herself to retrieve the Sigil, and here was Khadgar, sitting safe and warm while she and her men had paid the price.

She threw the blood-soaked ring on Khadgar's desk.

"Next time you want something, Khadgar," she snarled brokenly, her voice dangerously low, "Get it yourself."

The tall Archmage rose to his feet, his brow furrowing. He opened his mouth to speak, but Auriana was not even remotely in the mood to hear his platitudes.

"Don't follow me," she added, turning on her heel and stalking out of the room.

"Auriana!" Khadgar called after her, but she firmly ignored him.

Auriana practically raced down the stairs and stormed out into the deluge, the cold rainwater mixing with the hot, angry tears that were now pouring down her face. She took the portal to the outskirts of Zangarra, once again ignoring the night watchmen, only to realise that she had nowhere to go.

She couldn't return to Lunarfall, certainly, her wretched heart unable to bear the stares and whispers of her men. She had no desire to talk to Khadgar after just having torn her way from his study, and she didn't want his comfort or his sympathy. Auriana then abruptly realised that there was only one person she could think of who could possibly understand her anger and shame, if she were bold enough to seek him. Varian Wrynn was one of the few people in the world who knew the truth of her, and who could listen to her turmoil without judgement or pity. Speaking to him on this was a risk, certainly, but Auriana found that for the first time since she'd met the King, her need outweighed her fear. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, and opened a portal to Stormwind.