I would like everyone to know that I think the expanse of land is slightly larger then depicted in Wow (Or it would only take an hour or so to run from the base of the continent to north-most top of it.)
FEAR ME ALL WITH MY EVIL WORDLINESS! I HAVE REACHED MY 8000 MARK ONCE MORE!
By the way, I didn't know that it was possible to eat literature for sustinance. Azure, you have proved me wrong
Shietan! To continue, a White rose CAN symbolize innocence and friendship. I am sorry for repeating myself, but I am trying to capitalize on Zul'vii and Ketala both being very very innocent beings, and I am trying to instill it into your minds that Illidan does not necessarily 'see' a beautiful young woman when he 'looks' at her, he sees a young child, almost (though not quite) like a daughter. A neice, a waif, something he has to protect. And at the same time a companion because he needs her to take care of him. Course, he'd never admit that, but all you people can tell he must love her some way, even if its not well defined. There's too many hints in the story for you people not to get the idea : P Expecially the way he reacted when she said 'romance'. Thrall and Jaina on the other hand are completely and entirely twitterpated (In love). And Varimathras and Sylvanis? Well... they're just weird. Cute, in a freaky sort of way, but still weird.
Oh? Mahi and Keever? Yeesh, that one's even harder then Zul'vii and Illidan. Strange relationships the lot of them. The most sensible one is an orc and a human. Oh the bitter irony.
THANK YOU ALL YOU WONDERFUL PEOPLE FOR YOUR REVIEWS! I LOVE YOU ALL . I'M SORRY THIS CHAPTER DIDNT COME OUT SOONER! A speciall thanks to Bloodstained Hands for reviewing because I know your story and thoroughly enjoy it.
And everyone, please tell me if the story gets too mushy! Too many confounded relationships to keep track of! Oh and don't worry, Jaina and Thrall and the Unicorn will come back, I haven't forgotten about them :P
Fear my uber title.
3rd Leg of the Journey (So since it has 3, we can be sure that the journey is not human, unless it's russian or japanese and has suffered the effects of nuclear fall out.) The adventure always begins with the Quests.
"So, what, exactly, are we looking for?"
"My seer. I have a mental link with him, but it's very weak. It'll be nice to see him in person."
"Ah, so that is how you know everything."
"Yep. He's the one who sent me to the top of the world to find you, my friend." Illidan snorted. The two companions were on a mountain, somewhere in southern Durotar. The mountains there were gargantuan, bordering all the small towns and training villages. As Zul'vii spoke, Illidan lifted up from the mountain again, his wings beating furiously as he flew after her. After a moment, they landed again, and Zul'vii examined the area. After visiting with the trolls, and countless messages to Vashj and Kael to give them further instructions, Zul'vii had decided to locate the other people she knew in the world.
Vol'jin had given remarkable hospitality, even to Illidan. They had stayed in a grand tropical villa, and every night was a small party gathered around the massive bonfires throughout Sen'jin.
Truth be told, they had done more good then bad. Trade had been secured between the Orcs and Night Elves. This put the Night Elves in slight disfavor with the Alliance, but their economy blossomed, and reconstruction accelerated. In Felwood, several villages had already been staked out. Kael had made the Blood Elf base of operations a sunken Night Elf temple. It had been uncorrupted, ruined only by the powers of time and erosion. In fact, it seemed to have once been a temple to Elune, and it made a place of great sanctity and beauty once the main rooms had been made relatively habitable. Zul'vii's tribe had vanished into the wilderness, as they had a tendency to do, trading with the main villages in all sorts of looted and manufactured goods. The trolls had become more lenient in the use of their waters, though they would never end their enmity toward elfin-kind.
But, to return to the matter of seeking Zul'vii's friend…
"How do you not know the entrance to this place?" he asked after a long moment.
"Never been here." He jerked to a halt, staring after her, and began muttering to himself. Before he could voice complaint, however, she interrupted with, "Ah! Found it!" He watched her siddle through a crevice, gesturing for him to follow. He snorted, eyeing the slender crack, and shook his head. Still, he turned sideways, squeezing through the crevice after her. The passage was cramped and narrow for a long time, and Illidan began to think Zul'vii had gone the wrong way. But then the passage suddenly widened, spilling out into a massive, cascading cavern. Illidan shuddered, feeling the vast wealth of innate power swarming around the room, and he felt more then a little bit envious at the huge wealth of magic. The cavern sprawled out in all directions, especially up and down in a massive column. Birds flitted around. A small, sun-like orb hovering in the middle of the column, feeding life to its small world. All around, life jutted from the columns, and the various levels surround it."
"Impressive," the demonhunter murmured, examining the cavern.
"Yep. Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggg!"
"Present!" Both comrades whipped around to see a Satyr perched up in a tree, crouching down and smiling at him. Most astonishing was that the Satyr's fur was pure white. Even his skin was pure ivory. His face was smooth and slender, as handsome as any elf's. One of his eyes was a vibrant red. The other, however, was deep blue.
"Mag!" Zul'vii exclaimed gleefully, coming up under the tree. "Get down here!" He chuckled lightly, smiling, and then dropped to the ground, slowly standing up. The Satyr was mammoth, as tall as Illidan himself, and just as slender. But he was much kinder in appearance, and he smiled at Zul'vii, leaning down and hugging the half troll gently.
"Long time, no see, little one." He released, smiling at her.
"This place is quite beautiful."
"Yes. It was necessary to move here… But it is finally starting to look like my old home. Now, I see you have brought your second shadow with you." He cocked his head to the side, grinning at Illidan. The demonhunter tensed, growling lightly, and the satyr chuckled.
"Alas, dear Zul'vii… I do believe your shadow is quite vexed with me. But how could that be? Forgive me my love of world-play- I do believe it is prominent in my race, and thus is not my fault, but why should he be vexed with me? Unless… he is vexed that he is not the one being hugged?" One of Illidan's fists immolated and went unnoticed as the satyr snickered again, gently putting an arm around Zul'vii's shoulders. "Come. You and your friend are welcomed here. Join me for lunch, will you?" Zul'vii nodded, smiling back at Illidan.
"You coming?" she asked gently. "You've come so far, no reason to turn back now." He sneered, but followed the two down a grassy path, ending in an elaborate, open villa. Mag lead them in and Zul'vii plopped down on a fur cousin. He brought the three of them various foods- meats, fruits, and breads; then he settled to talk.
"I thank you for visiting Zul'vii. It warms my heart. But there are events in the world that I must speak of."
"A seer to the last," she said with a smirk. He laughed, a goatish sound.
"Yes, but things are dire. Horde, Alliance, Scourge, and Demon all teeter on the brink of a four way war."
"We've been clearing Felwood of demonic influence."
"The Demons are the final, absolute enemy, yes… But it is to the Scourge that we must first bring our war. We need to secure our world before we can muster the effort to fight for it."
"You want us to kill Arthas." Illidan perked up as Zul'vii said that, eying the Satyr and half troll.
"Not immediately, but yes. I have been receiving pointers on how to do so from one that your Illidan might recognize from Nightelfin mythology." Illidan was silent. "One by the name of the MahiMahi." Again, the demonhunter was silent a moment. Then his lips parted in awe as he 'stared' at something past Mag. Zul'vii blinked and looked at the same object with similar surprised.
The being behind Mag towered over common mortals. It was shorter than both Mag and Illidan, but that made it no less magnificent, as it seemed greater than both. It sported traits of every race of sentience known of on that world… and some that were not known to any. Its skin was smooth, light brown, its green and orange hair cascading down to its shoulders. Deep emerald eyes, like pools of liquid seeping off into some other plane, saw all. And from its being, it radiated a power to ancient, so pure and wonderful, Illidan could not find envy within him for this being's might.
"Mahi…" he murmured, awed, and he sank to one knee without pride or ego- even though he did not really understand why he did so. The Mahi smiled down at him like he were her bellowed child. Then he turned and looked at Zul'vii. Elegantly she nodded to the half troll… as if acknowledging an equal.
"Mahi asks," began Mag, "that you seek out one who hates Arthas as much as Illidan does. Her name is Sylvanis Windrunner, Banshee Queen of the Undercity."
"Oh, she sounds pleasant," piped up Zul'vii.
"Sylvanis has allied with the Horde. You, Zul'vii, will be allowed in the Undercity's walls… And Sylvanis will find a welcomed, kindred spirit in Illidan."
"And how will I get there in the first place?" inquired Illidan somewhat reverently.
"Thrall and Jaina are working to send an embassy to Sylvanis. The Banshee's goals are to eradicated the Scourge… and the Humans. Jaina is willing to act as a go between to keep Sylvanis from attempting to wipe out her race, and she is brigning various envoys with her. That will be Illidan's pretense for going. One more thing. It would be good to bring Kal'thalas Sunstrider. He, above all others, will win Sylvanis's loyalty- she was his Ranger General before the fall of Quel'Thalas. She still harbors a love for her homelands… and for what she things is now extinct: her people."
"And Vashj? What of her?"
"Let Vashj remain here to safeguard your lands. She should be able to handle it on her own-…" He paused as both he and Illidan turned their heads, looking at Zul'vii. She had stood, walking over to the Mahi. The half troll looked up at the being a moment, nodding respectfully, and then peered at the creature hidden half behind the Mahi.
Mahi's companion. Illidan gazed at the creature, surprised to find that it was, in fact, undead.
"Hello," murmured Zul'vii in the common tongue, trying to get a good look at the frightened being. It was silent a moment, and then answered in a masculine voice,
"Hello."
"What's your name?" A pause.
"Keever."
"Nice to meet you. My name's Zul'vii."
"Yesss… Keever knows you." She blinked.
"How do you know me?"
"Mahi likes you. And the Elf Demon. She works to keep his mind strong against demonic influence." Zul'vii blinked again.
"Whoa, Illidan, you're lucky. You have two guardian angels." Illidan frowned, but not out of scorn. He was simply surprised as to why Zul'vii was not awestruck with MahiMahi- why she even bothered to noticed the undead. "So, where did you come from, Keever?" He hesitated, evidently baffled by all the attention.
"Undercity… I was… an Apoth-" Memories assailed his mind of the destroyed half elf. She was as unique and kind as the half troll, half elf that now stood before him. Lightly, Keever shuddered. "I was something I am glad that I no longer am."
"Do you know Sylvanis?"
"The Dark Lady" he said with some reverence. "Yes."
"What do you know about her?"
"Powerful… Cunning… Not stereotypical undead. Does not hate all life. Merely hates those that have or would have brought her suffering. Seeks vengeance on Kel'Thuzad and Arthas for destroying her and her homeland."
"Oh, I like her already," murmured Illidan.
"Is employing the Argent Dawn. Even lets undead join the Dawn. They believe in fighting the Scourge and the demons. Whatever race they are- even human- they do not threaten her people, and she continues to like them. Any who threaten her vanish…" Mahi gently prodded him on as Illidan made a mental note to avoid the Argent Dawn. "Her Majordomo is Varimathras, an exNathraziem. He turned to serve her in order that she would spare his life. The Burning Legion deems him a traitor. He is cunning, devious, and evil, but he has become fiercely loyal to Sylvanis."
There is another thing…murmured Mahi, and everyone immediately lowered their head in respect save Keever. There is an undead with a gift like mine. Like yours, Zul'vii. Zul'vii and Illidan both risked astonished glances up at Mahi. Her name is Ketala Firhiae. Her spirit name is Trua. But she will only answer to the name of 'Ket' now. Seek her out. She seeks to destroy Arthas… And she might have the power to.
"How will we know her, Mahi?" Zul'vii asked, still astonished by the fact that Mahi had called Zul'vii's healing akin to the Mahi's own power.
Trua is the only Undead to serve Stormwind. Sylvanis has interest in her, but she might be tempted to unmake the foundation of good-will in Trua. Do not let Sylvanis destroy what the paladins have wrought. Humans are fickle creatures, but these have nurtured something wonderful.
"Paladins. She's being kept by the paladins of Stormwind- to keep her safe and to keep the world safe from her. She must have some sort of power, like I can heal." A grin spread over Mahi's face and Keever giggled.
"She likes you," Keever repeated.
We must go now. Good luck. Mahi turned her head, looking at Illidan. Then, gently, she smiled. Let your hearts be light. There is more pleasure in friendship then in worlds of power. That is why the Burning Legion is never satisfied with what it takes. It was a warning, and Illidan recognized it for the rebuke that it was, the comment directed at him. Still, he could not find loathing in himself for the Mahi, and he merely watched as she backed up, vanishing with her companion.
Zul'vii's eyes were bright and she laughed, practically hopping up and down excited at the bow of the small boat, clinging to an assortment of ropes. Illidan lifted a brow, eyeing her. She was making the boat tip a bit.
"What are you so happy about?"
"Action… Adventure…"
"Romance?" She burst out laughing.
"I'm an irrepressible young heroine. I can't help my naïve unrest with simple life.
"Oh, ha ha," he muttered. In one hand, he was holding his newest warblades. He had forged these structures while they were in Sen'jin, and had elegantly engraved them with ruins on their 3 day exploration of the mountains. One blade leaned against his knee as he continuously sharpened its gleaming edges, arcane energy radiating from the magnificent ruins. "You are certain that we will reach Orgimmar faster by raptor?"
"Yes. Raptors will signify us as allied with the horde- the Trolls are rather frugal with their raptors- they wont give them out to just anyone. Besides, with the storm coming, and with you not being the most graceful of aerial acrobats, it's safer to go by raptor.
"We could wait till the end of the storm and fly to Orgimmar."
"We'd be late to Ogrimmar and we'd miss Jaina. Besides, we'll have to rest somewhere between Sen'jin and Orgimmar. Razor Hill is the only area with food, water, and protection from the elements and other organisms. And a troll and a demon/elf are certainly going to be detained there if they just fly in. Besides, Vol'jin means to visit Thrall anyway. He can come with us, and his presence will surly signify us as 'allies' of the Horde."
Illidan just snorted, standing up. They had borrowed this fishing ship in order to visit the mountains over a period of days, and at the same time have a safe place to sleep. The cabin was only one room big and the ship was small, but it served their purposes and had been fast enough to return them to Sen'jin in a single day. The demonhunter lifted his hands, tweaking the sails the way Zul'vii had taught him over the past few days. She smiled and turned, helping him, as they gently brought their small ship up to the shores of Durotar once more.
Illidan was fortunate he was an elf. If not, no raptor would have been able to bear his weight, as his height alone contributed massively to his weight. The trolls had been loathed to share their beloved mounts, but Vol'jin had agreed that Zul'vii should travel to Orgrimmar, and he knew she was not about to leave without Illidan. Raptor would be the only means of arriving in the capital city before Jaina.
Zul'vii giggled, watching the massive female jerk almost straight upward. Illidan was never really frightened, and, therefore, he was snarling curses under his breath, trying to control the giant raptor. Zul'vii grinned, riding her smaller, white raptor up beside his, and she reached out, stroking his mount's nose. Immediately the beast calmed, leaving a flustered and annoyed Illidan glaring at Zul'vii.
"Oh come now, its not that bad. I'll ride beside you to make sure she doesn't decide to nibble on your leg." He scowled, wings fanning out and then closing.
"I'd kill it." She and Vol'jin both flinched, but made no comment. The leader of the trolls merely gestured to their small escort, and the party began moving.
As much as Illidan and raptor loathed one another, the demonhunter could not fault the monster's speed and grace. It charged over land like a bird dove through air, only one foot ever on the ground. The only movement its torso made was to slide lightly from side to side. Nightsaber panthers made a forward-backward movement, but Illidan was certainly not stupid. He learned quickly how to hit upon the beast, and the ride was not as painful as one might first have thought it would be. Late into the night, their beasts slowed… and the guards of Razor Hill looked in some anger and curiosity at the unique group that road to the town's 'gate'.
He was destroyed. Mindless. Rather then blue, his aura had become pale white and gray. Only scant intelligence remained within his husk- the smallest of minds- so that he could endure his helpless suffering. His body acted on every whim of the litch king, his magic curbed to every desire of the master. He did not have the power to have his own personal thoughts. He was simply a mind, a numb mind, curbing once more to the will of its master.
He was driven forward, his litch form rebuilt by the Scourge necromancers. Endless frost and power spilt from him as he was given more and more and more of his freedom back, more of his mind. Skeletons raised and hacked down the young and innocent. Children were butchered before their mothers were pulled apart. Burning, gnawing, hacking, biting. And when it was done, a monster stood alone in the center of the town. Dark blue eyes made of aura and frost burnt with unending, seething hatred. The monster reeked of death and murder, and evil. The very tendrils of frost that feathered off from his body froze and killed small life around him. Plants withered, insects imploded, and vermin burnt away in cold so vivid it seared like fire.
Kel'Thuzad was perfected. This time, there were no scraps of humanity left over; All that was left was cold, cruel, cunning.
Your wish, my master?
The same as always. Taunt Sylvanis.
Of course, my master. There was an unspoken command, but Kel'Thuzad knew his master's desires perfectly. Find Ketala's corpse. Make sure she is dead.
"She is honorable, brave, and honest. The few paladin skills I have been able to teach her? She picked them up without effort! The girl even quotes from the Tome of Light itself."
"Are we talking about an undead?"
"Sir…"
"Ander tells me that she is a cunning and ruthless swordsman, skilled with all types of weaponry. 'Skill' and 'cunning' may be worthy traits, but 'ruthless'?"
"She is only well-trained. She fights with the precision of someone raised to fight- as she should."
"But would not such upbringing create a very violent nature?"
"I have never seen a violent aspect to her. More, she is saddened and dejected when under harassment."
"She, herself, has said that during battle she 'zones out'."
"A flaw brought on by her elemental heritage, and one that should be easily corrected by paladin teachings. She is not violent, she merely has an instinct she has not yet been taught to manipulate."
"She is too old."
"She is only six mortal years of age."
"Naïve, impressionable…"
"All the more reason to teach her, so that she does not fall to corruption."
"Relkin reported her as a hostile, blood-thirsty monster."
"Ander reported that the girl reacted with minimal force in self defense. Relkin charged her after losing a fair duel."
"The people will not like it."
"It is not the people's decision, sir. It is yours." The other man was silent a long moment.
"Will she follow orders?"
"Even if she is very willful, she is also very obedient."
"The new page initiates are being brought in tomorrow, correct?"
"Yes."
"Merge her in with them. Tell her to be docile. She is not to settle any matters with broken limbs, or the populace will be in unrest."
"She will be picked on."
"If this is what she wants, she will have to make do."
"Hello," said a cheerful voice. Ket lifted her head, peering at the speaker from beneath her hood. He was a lively looking high elf, blonde hair falling to his shoulders. "Are these seats taken? There's no where else to sit," he said, gesturing to her empty, circular table.
"No," she said after a moment, chewing on a carrot. Ketala knew full well that she was dead- she needed only sparing nutritional nourishment. Still, she was healthy for an undead. No bones protruded. Her skin was as white and unmarred as ever. A little food could only help her retain human normality. Even her mouth had decided not to rot yet. Her gums were intact, her tongue in perfect working order, and her lips whole, if a bit dry.
It was Gydrion's theory that her elemental heritage kept her body in near-living condition. The only life process Ketala couldn't claim was that her heart beat. Sometimes she even had to use the rest room. The elf sat down at the lunch table, setting his tray on the top, and began to eat. Beside him sat a rather curly, black-haired boy and a mischievous looking red-haired child.
"So," began the red-haired one, "What's your name? I'm Mathic, the blonde runt is Qkiloden, and ox, here, is Surn." The elf wrinkled his nose but laughed.
"Ket," Ketala murmured, eating the rest of the carrot.
"Wow, you're a quiet one, aren't you? Why do you keep your hood up?" He reached over, rude and irrepressible, trying to flick back her hood. She grabbed his wrist, squeezing tightly. He winced, blinking. After a moment, she released. "What was that for?"
"Oh, leave him alone, Mathic," Qkiloden muttered.
"Her," corrected Surn. Both boys blinked, looking at the large paladin. "She's a girl. One of the master's told me so. The only girl page this year." The elfin and red-haired boys blinked and stared with some surprise.
"A girl?" blurted the red-haired one. "How's she supposed to compete with us men?" The elf blinked, lifting a brow.
"Actually, Mathic, in elfin society, the greatest warriors are mostly all female."
"What? How the heck did you guys stand up against the Horde so long?" The elf stiffened.
"The practice court is open now, is it not?" Ketala asked softly.
"Yes," said Mathic, slowly smirking.
"Then let us duel, and decide whether the elf is right or not."
Qkiloden was bright red, covering his mouth and trying to keep from laughing, his pupil-less eyes bright with mirth. Mathic blinked, a disoriented heap on the ground. Ketala had practically run circles around him, her skill and strength so surpassed his own. He had his armor cut off, a 'K' hacked into his buckler, his pant legs slit open from midthigh down, his shirt in tatters, his sword around 16 yards away, and not a single blade-scratch on his body.
"The hell…?" he muttered, still confused. Ketala laughed, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him up to his feet.
"You have been beaten by a woman." She patted him on the head. "Be proud." Qkiloden lost his battle, uncovered his mouth, threw back his head, and burst out laughing.
"Shut up," grumbled Mathic as Ketala sheathed both her scimitars. Qkiloden soon controlled himself, beaming at Ketala.
"Why don't you hang out with us?" he asked happily. "We could use someone to keep his ego in check." Ket smiled and then frowned, lowering her head. The Elf blinked. "What is it?"
"I am not someone you would want to be associated with." Qkiloden blinked, crestfallen.
"Why not?"
"I am different. Someone will eventually find out what I am. The common people will not be pleased to hear I am not in a cage somewhere, but in fact adopted by the paladins- mingling with their children." All three boys blinked. Even Mathic looked a bit concerned for the girl, and all three looked like they were itching with curiosity.
"Why would that be?" the elf asked, confused. "Why tell us this if it'll get you in trouble faster?"
"Because you have been nice to me." The elf blinked, looking first at his comrades and then back at Ket.
"What are you?" Ketala was silent a moment, and then touched the hem of her cloak. Slowly, she pushed the hood back, revealing her strange eyes and stalk-white features.
"Undead… And I have elemental blood." Mathic and Qkiloden's jaws dropped, and they stared at her. "Holy energy heals me," she rapidly continued, "and I'm something of a protégé for that reason."
"You were the undead Gydrion brought in…" the elf murmured. She nodded.
"I've lived here ever since. Only just recently, they made me a page. I'm to learn the ways of the paladins." Surn was the first one to react, walking up to Ket and smiling down at her.
"Seems to me that you need all the friends that you can get to up your reputation." She blinked, her eyes whirling slowly.
"But I'm undead…"
"You can still kick Mathic's butt." A smile slowly spread over her face, her eyes whirling bright green.
"You don't mind?"
"Of course not," piped in Qkiloden, trying to be helpful.
"Besides," said Mathic brightly, "we can use you as a threat! Do my homework or I'll get Ket out here-!" Ket frowned and he laughed. "Just kidding." Human children, especially, seem to have a bizarre trait that disappears as they grow older. Instead of everything different, disgusting, and powerful being evil…
It's cool.
Ket's eyes flamed hot purple and pink and she smiled, hugging Surn around the middle and picking him off the ground. The giant boy yelped, grabbing her shoulder and looking down at her in astonishment.
She laughed and set him down, tiny in comparison to him.
"You are strong…" he remarked
"I coulda told you that," said Mathic, eyeing all the new holes in his current dress-wear.
"Do you guys want to see my mount?" she asked, already eager to impress her new friends.
"You already have a horse?" Mathias asked, envious. She shook her head, guesturing for them to follow. "No, no! But I DO have a mount! Come, he'll love the attention! And I hear the Night Elves ride them, maybe Qkiloden can tell me what the heck he is!" The elf blinked as she turned and headed for the stables.
"A Nightsaber?" he wondered, and then sprinted after her, followed by his two companions.
And thus, through thick and thin, Ketala had found three new companions…
(A Long Time Later)
Ketala was silent, her eyes closed, 'meditating'. Gydrion often found her like this, and wondered at what she needed such peace and concentration to think on. Possibilities crossed his mind, but he did not know enough about the girl to make a proper guess.
If he had known what Ketala was doing, he might have worried. Her mind was stretched out, the tendrils of her conscious reaching far past the walls of the paladin complex and through Stromwind's mighty fortifications. Her mind was far away, far up in the reaches of Lordaeron. And there, it was touching the Scourge. All undead save the abominations opened up unfailingly to her mind. She nurtured in them thought, emotion, and intelligence, and then snatched it from them, pulling their consciousness far away from them…
To where they would be safe from Arthas's all-seeing eyes. At each visit, she returned their consciousness's coaxing out a little bit more, a little more recognition and thought. Each time, her mind reached out farther, touching other undead.
Most of all, the creatures she could reach the easiest where the frostwyrms. Their consciousnesses returned to partial-sanity the fastest. They flocked to her call, thirsting after her attention like a beast might thirst for water in an endless desert. The ghouls were not far behind them. Though far less intelligent, they chattered and vied for attention, each eager for more life, for more thought. The banshee's were still intelligent, but her mind reached theirs anyway. Trapped by Arthas's will, they were as helpless as unintelligent undead around them. For them, she could draw their mind more into contact with their body, giving them limited will. They were angry and volatile, however, and any attempt to strengthen their will would result in hours of mental battle as she convinced them to be docile… and to wait.
There would be a time to rebel.
The necromancers, however, like the abominations, could not be reached, but their minds could not be touched for a completely different reason; They were not undead in the first place, and thus they still had some semblance of free will.
They followed the litch king willingly. Acolytes were the same.
The gargoyles, on the other hand, were cunning animals- not purly intelligant beings, so in them she drew out thought and understanding. The Destroyers were similar in nature to the gargoyles, mixes of sentient beings, animals, and masonry. They too fell to her mind, though at a much slower rate.
If Gydrion had known, he would have worried. At any moment, Arthas could rediscover her existence, wipe out her control, and somehow gain access to her once more, be it through force or stealth. But Gydrion did not know, and thus Ketala continued, a plan formulating within the deep recesses of her brain. She would defeat Arthas one day. And whenever she would fight him, his army would be there to help her.
But that was not the reason Ketala initially began stretching out to the undead minds. There were two underlying reasons. The first was that she deeply pitied these creatures, and felt she owed them for what had happened to her own beloved ghoul. She could not keep her mind from them, as she bore a deep-seated yearning to help them.
The second reason was that she was searching for Kel'Thuzad.
Ketala tensed, her eyes flashing open. She lifted her head and looked around, sniffing the air. After a moment, she pulled her cloak on, and she turned, heading down the stairs. She could not see the thing she was looking for, but she could sense it. Its aura radiated out to her like a beacon, drawing her closer. She moved silently through the hallways, and entered the main kitchens from behind. Everything was busy, and she made her way to another door, exiting out into the court yard. She looked around, taking in the sight of the alter in the middle of the yard. Gydrion was there, speaking with, of all people, the King's Protector. The king himself, a small boy, was sitting on the steps of the alter, his chin in one hand, paying close attention to whatever they were speaking about.
Whatever they were speaking about must have been important, as it was the dead of night, and there were magic wards in place to keep the temple from being seeing by outside forces. However, the group had not counted on an enemy being present to spy on them. Ketala tackled the invisible menace from behind, wrapping an arm around its skeletal mouth and yanking it back, deep into the shadows. It writhed in her arms, but it was a weak, helpless creature, and it stilled when she raised a scimitar to its head.
From what she could tell by what parts of it were pressed against her, it was a skeletal being with no lower torso or legs. It was, if her suspicions were correct, a shade. Even in pure daylight, this fiend would have been invisible. At night, it was no more then any other shadow.
But IT had not counted on Ketala being there. Her mind dove powerfully into its, shoving aside all connection with the Litch King and any other lesser masters it might have. The creature writhed again and then went still as she ensnared and drew up humanity that had been destroyed by fanaticism and undeath. Unlike the acolytes who give their lives to become shades, she could touch this being's mind and draw forth its conscious. The cunning, devious monster she held in her arms slowly reverted to a pathetic, half intelligent state, limp and helpless. Smiling to herself, Ketala slowly resheathed her scimitar and bore the near-weightless creature back up to her room.
The shade was by far the strangest creature she had ever contacted. Intelligent but undead, it reflected both sides of the spectrum. It was, to pick an adjective, shy. The being did not attempt to run away from her or leave her room, though it occasionally fought very weakly for a reconnection to its master. It lingered away from her, slipping to the other side of the room if she tried to approach it. At the same time, it was always within two yards of her, yearning for attention the same way a ghoul might. Ketala sighed, eyeing the strange creature. It had become visible, only vanishing if it was trying to directly avoid her.
What is your name? she asked it gently. The creature jumped, shrinking back into a corner. Then it returned to within a few yards of her, its clawed hands grasping at empty air.
"Names are unimportant to the order."
I did not ask if names were important. I asked what your name was. The creature jumped again, and then, slowly, replied with,
"Hielrat." She nodded.
I am Ket. It was silent a moment, before drifting slightly closer to her. Ketala just smiled, reaching over to it with one hand. It jumped backwards, and then came forwards once more, letting her stroke its domed, skeletal forehead. There… Don't be afraid, Hielrat. The shade did not budge, allowing her time to examine the strange creature and to comfort it.
"Ket, don't think I didn't see you down in the court-" Gydrion stepped in, and his eyes widened as he saw the shade. The undead creature snarled, vanishing, and Ket blinked, grabbing its arm and looking up at Gydrion.
"I sensed him. He was spying on you. I cut off his connection to the Scourge- his leaders will just think him dead."
"As he should be," the paladin said, drawing out his sword. Ket's eyes widened and the Shade chattered wildly, evidently terrified. She shoved the ghostly skeleton behind her and pushed it into the corner of her room, between both walls, the bed, and her back. It reappeared, snarling in terror and clutching Ketala's shoulders, trying to hide behind her.
"There, there," she murmured, half turning to pat it gently on the head. "It's alright… It's alright, shhhh…." The Paladin blinked, staring, as the shade calmed down, half nuzzling against her, looking at her terrified with empty black eyes. "Now, will you be good for me, and stay put?" It nodded meekly, and she scooted away from it, leaving it huddling in the corner. She patted it gently on the head and then looked at Gydrion. "They mentioned to you that I could affect undead like I affect animals. They never told you about Eldiaren, did they?"
"… That's an elfin name."
"A half elf. A ghoul. He and Thrash were my sole companions, though I fear he was less sentient then my beloved mount was. He left Kel'Thuzad's base with me, and traveled with me south. He and Thrash scented the abominations- ghouls retain a phenomenally good sense of smell- and I ran to where the fighting was, knowing there would be a group of humans…
"And hopefully a solution to my dilemma. I zoned out while fighting. I forgot to protect him, and focused solely on my enemy. His cry of terror brought me to my senses, and I regained pure consciousness just in time to watch the last abomination pop his head off like the flower from a dandelion. Later, Therian nearly died because I had zoned out. I am now trying to stop from ever doing that again. I don't want anyone else to die."
"… Why did the ghoul follow you from Kel'Thuzad's base?"
"Thrash is rather sentient. I can pull the same will and conscious and sentience out from the husks of the undead. That's how I learned Eldiaren's name- he remembered it." Gydrion shivered, beset by a chill, staring down at his protégée. "While Kel'Thuzad encouraged me to use my power to manipulate the undead to my demands in order to further serve the litch king, I touched several ghouls, bringing out… 'life' within them again. Eldiaren was my favorite- the closest to me. He was my friend. And he, like I am now, was not bound by the Litch King's control after I brought back enough of his conscious." She turned a bit back toward the Shade, and gently pulled the skeletal ghost to her, stroking its jawbone. It quivered and went limp, silent in her arms. After a moment, she looked back up at Gydrion.
"Can I keep him? I can make sure he doesn't leave- that is… if you do trust me. I know that I, being undead, am difficult to predict or trust." Gydrion stared down at her silently, watching the Shade curl up in an almost fetal position.
"What are you doing to him?" he asked in morbid fascination.
"I don't know. I'm just touching his mind the way I touch other minds." She looked down worriedly at the Shade, tenderly stroking his cheek. "But I think I'm making him…feel again."
"He's sentient… You said you couldn't touch sentient minds."
"As far as I knew, I couldn't. I can't influence necromancers. I've never been able to influence humans into liking me, as we all well know." He blinked and his eyes narrowed. "What?" she asked innocently, cradling the Shade.
"Or can you?Othen is not stupid. Why he would come to us with such ridiculous claims and such simple proof? Why would I choose to keep you instead of eliminating a threat to my race?" She blinked, staring up at him impassively, her eyes whirling to a sickly gray-yellow.
"Gydrion…" He waved a hand dismissively, turning and stalking off.
When he returned the next night, face darkened with thought and suspicion, she was gone. He blinked, looking around. "Ket?" He stepped into the room. "Keta-" He froze, staring around the room. All her things, every possession, were gone. Even her little white cloak was absent. He turned, dashing down the stairs and around the corridors, coming to a halt at the stables. Thrash was gone. Swearing to himself mildly (For no paladin allowed himself to swear hard or often, as an example to the other people of the world), Gydrion saddled and mounted his own horse, riding to complex entrance.
"You there!" he said, skidding his mount to a rough halt and pointing at one of the guards. "Did Ketala ride through here?"
"No sir!" His eyes flamed (though more with worrisome anger then any enimity for the poor girl) and he turned his horse around, and blinked, staring down at the three boys sitting glumly on the stairs leading up to the temple.
"You boys- you were Ketala's friends, no? You are the three she always speaks of." They blinked, looking up, and the two smaller ones jumped to their feet, the larger one standing up more slowly.
"We're not telling you anything!" said one. The other, an elf, glared down at the other boy, evidently thinking the human child very stupid for having admitted they knew anything.
"She went over the wall," said the largest boy, finally reaching his feet. "Her cat climbed it. She came to say goodbye to us." Gydrion blinked.
"Then she is out loose in the city?"
"No, sir, we saw her leap over to the slick outer wall and jump down from there. She's outside." Gydrion pulled his horse back a bit, a puzzled expression on his face. "She said-"
The elf piped up, glaring up at Gydrion. "She said, "I can't die until Arthas is defeated for what's he's done to this world, and to me."" Gydrion fell silent, gazing at the two smaller boys, both who were looking at him with accusation and anger.
"… Do you know where she's gone?"
"Why should we tell you?" hissed out the smaller human boy.
"To keep said Litch King from finding her first." The children paled, looking at one another, not sure what to do. "I am a paladin, my word is my honor. I have no intention of bringing woe to Ketala. I never have, despite what she interpreted my brooding as."
"She's heading north again. She's going to try to reach the dwarven lands. We told her that if she can keep Thrash hidden, she could pass for a Human… And then she might be safe in Ironforge." Gydrion nodded, worried and relieved at the same time.
"Did she mention anything about the Undercity?"
"She asked us whether we thought Ironforge or Undercity would be better," the elf offered. "We said Ironforge and she agreed, and didn't even ask where the Undercity was." He nodded, turning his horse and racing off to find Ander. He had to find Ketala fast He had no doubt that if he failed to reach her in time, Sylvanis would find her.
She felt Hielrat, the shade never moving far from her. Through his eyes, she saw the world around her from two perspectives, and thus was how she saw the Felhound long, long before it had the time to attack. "Sacer…" she murmured quietly, her hands moving from her reigns to her scimitar handles. The beast jumped, roaring loudly. Immediately, Thrash kicked the monster, blowing it into a tree. Ket sprung from the mount's back, charging at the Felhound. The tentacles reached for her, sensing her innate arcane power. The ends of the tentacles were severed by twin scimitars. The blade turned, diving into the monsters sides, and its screamed, pawing at her. The NightSaber pounced on the Felhound's hind legs, drawing it back and drawing huge gashes in its sides. Ketala drew back her blades and plunged them through the Felhound's open mouth, and roughly ripped her blades up through its upper jaw. The brain was cleaved into three pieces and the monster collapsed, dead. Hielrat came up beside her immediately, looking her over. After determining she was alright, he slipped back into the shadows. Almost immediately, there was the sound of soft clapping. Ketala was silent, her hands tightening on her scimitars. Slowly, she turned to face the sound of the noise… To see a female undead standing there, garbed in elaborate black robes. The woman had enough time to lower her hands before a holy flame erupted like a bolt of lightning from the sky to land directly on top of her.
Ketala was never one for learning slowly. In the lengthy time- a few years in fact- she had spent at the complex, she had soaked up the paladin arts with ease and grace, hurtling ahead of her classmates. And never once had the blessed light failed to come to her aid, though citizen and page alike had scorned her.
However, though it had been long, wonderful years since she had abandoned the Scourge, years filled with the friendship of her three companions, the mentoring of Ander and Gydrion, she had no doubt that their were eyes in the world still looking.
She had no doubt Arthas knew she might live.
Two scant years was nothing to the undying life of the Litch King.
