Chapter 12

In Hearthglen later that evening…

Within the common room of the two story house where Jeshua and his followers had taken up residence, a furious debate was happening among the refugees from Tarren Mill. Jeshua and those with him watched, but Jeshua himself offered no input unless asked, and even then he refused to give an opinion as to what they should do. The decision had to be theirs and theirs alone. He would not make it for them.

"Either she is our queen, or she is not." Craig Hewitt told the gathering. "She told us we could all go home if we wanted. She left it up to us like she always has."

"Are we really kidding ourselves on this?" Another man spoke up. "We know what happens to humans in Forsaken lands. We've…" The man then looked towards Jeshua and his apprentices. "We've done it ourselves, sending them off to the fields at Hillsbrad or the boneyards at Deathknell. We almost did it to these folks here. Do you really think we're just going to be allowed to go back and live in peace?"

"That is what she said." The Deathguard who had become the town's unofficial spokesman, Cletus Callahoon, reminded them. "She's got to be the leader, not just of the undead, but all the Horde people now, living and undead. We keep faith with her, and she'll keep faith with us. That's what I got out of it anyway." He then said, speaking to the man who had spoken against returning, "Look, this isn't an all or nothing proposition, Mikhail. If you want to stay here, that's up to you. That's what free will is about. Whether we've got living flesh or not she's given us the choice once again. I for one am going to take it. She is still my queen."

The debate continued much like that for some time until a knock came, and the wooden door opened slowly, hesitantly even so that few in the room even noticed except for the slight creaking sound it made. Slowly and quietly, a woman dressed in a dark blue woolen dress, matching hooded cloak, and white blouse stepped through the door. She drew back her hood from her head in order to see the inside of the house better. Her eyes had been red from crying, and tear stains still could be seen on her cheeks. Her reddish blond hair, so much like her son's except for the fine silver hairs which had started to show, was down at her shoulders having come out of the ponytail she had it in. Her expression looked haggard and tired, hopeful and frightened as she looked into the room.

Miriam scanned the expansive downstairs filled with people, mostly humans, looking for Jeshua. The common room was packed however with people standing one next to the other like canned fish sold in the market. There must have been more than fifty people at least, and the woman could not see anyone that resembled what she remembered her son having looked like.

She had finally been able to come after the devil woman had left, and the Draenei prophet had thought it to be safe.

"I will attempt to meet with him tomorrow." Velen had told her kindly, they having been welcomed as guests of Mardenholde Keep. "Tonight, I believe it is time for you and your son to speak privately."

The sky had been clear that evening as she was escorted to the house by an elven recruit, a seemingly young, red headed woman from Silvermoon City as she had learned. Of course, where elves were concerned one could never really tell their true age. Her eyes and expression had been professional, but not unkind to the human woman.

Standing near Jeshua, Vasuuvata, being Draenei and taller than most of those others present saw the woman standing uncertain of herself by the door appearing to be searching for someone. The human had been standing on the toes of her boots trying to see past the people. Vasuuvata discreetly slipped away from the other apprentices and made her way through the crowd of people to the woman still standing behind the press of bodies by the door.

"Who are you looking for?" Vasuuvata asked kindly. "Perhaps I can help."

The red headed woman looked up into the face of the Draenei. Her alien eyes seemed gentle and trustworthy to her. "I'm looking for my son, Jeshua." She responded. "Do you know him?"

Vasuuvata's eyes widened at her words. "You are his mother?" She then asked.

"Yes. Yes, I am. My name is Miriam. Miriam Davidson. A man like you, Velen, brought me here with him to see my son. Is he here?" She responded, still asking to see Jeshua.

"The Prophet is here as well?" Vasuuvata asked, surprise and reverence filling her features.

"Yes, he is. He remained at the keep until I had a chance to speak with my son. Please, would you take me to him?" Miriam asked, her own eyes pleading. She was so close to him, she could feel it, yet she could not see him.

Vasuuvata looked at the mass of people still debating their future and thought quickly. No, she decided, it won't do for them to meet down here. That wouldn't be appropriate.

"Come, I will bring you upstairs and then let the teacher know you are here." The Draenei woman told her.

"The teacher?" Miriam questioned aloud.

The Draenei woman nodded, and then led Miriam upstairs where it was much quieter. She then offered her a comfortable seat while she went back downstairs to speak with Jeshua. Miriam however could not sit. She stood up, and began walking back and forth across the open space at the top of the stairs. She wondered who this Draenei woman was, and why she called Jeshua, "the teacher." She wondered what her son looked like, where he had been, and why he hadn't written to let them know he was alive. She wondered at the rumors that had spread about him; rumors wild enough to even bring such an important figure as Velen to see him and to interest the government of Stormwind. She also wondered about the incident this morning. She knew that the Banshee Queen, the undead woman who had murdered the only family she had known and destroyed her world when she was only a teenager, had arrived demanding to see someone. Had it been her son?

What have you done, Jeshua? She wondered. Why does all the world now want to see you?

She waited for some time until she heard padded footsteps on the stairs. She turned towards them to see a young bearded man with hair and eyes like her own stepping into the upstairs room on bare feet. His clothing was pitiful, and he looked gaunt and thin. But there was the calmness, the peace she had known in his eyes from when he was only a child.

"Jeshua?" She asked.

"Mother?" He responded.

Then she ran to him and held him tightly. She had no words, but her tears flowed freely once more. Jeshua returned the embrace gently, holding his mother in his arms against his shoulder. She stayed like that for some time as he stroked her hair.

Then, she backed away from him without warning and slapped his face hard.

"Where have you been?!" She yelled at him. "You didn't write. You didn't send word! We had given up hope! How dare you do that to us!"

Seven years of pain all came barreling out at him, and he just stood there, waiting to take it, refusing to defend himself. Jeshua's eyes were sad, and his head heavy as he looked at her. The imprint of her hand on his face turned into a red welt as he stood there, letting her vent years of sleepless nights, worry, and frustration on him.

"What is going on, Jeshua?! Who are those people down there? Why did that Draenei woman call you a teacher? Why do important people want to talk with you? What have you done?" His mother's questions came hard and fast, but he remained silent until she was spent, which took some time.

After minutes which seemed like forever, she began to settle down somewhat. Finally he responded, "I'm sorry I hurt you, Mom. I had to follow the will of my sire, and that will led me here to do the Light's will, and finish the work it wants me to."

"The will of your sire? What do you mean? What work are you talking about, Jeshua?" Miriam interrogated him as only a mother can question her son. "What did the Light call you to do?"

Briefly she remembered the appearance of the being who told her of her pregnancy. The Light had called her to an impossibly difficult thing as well, as it was continuing to prove to be.

"To save our people, Mom. To restore the Light to the entire world." He told her. "Those people downstairs will be a part of it. I'm going to make everything new again."

"What do you mean, save our people?" She asked, not understanding his meaning. "From who, the Horde?"

"You do know who our people are, Mom, don't you?" He asked her, certain of the answer. "It was shown me, once, in a vision not very long ago. They think the Light has abandoned them and they fear its touch. I'm here to show them that the Light abandons no one, and calls them back to itself freely."

Miriam's mind then, of its own accord, went back to that conversation with Joseph she had, largely forgotten, about the Mages that had visited them. Joseph, curious, had researched her and her son's origins as best he could, tracing them possibly to the Menethils, the last royal family of the Kingdom of Lordaeron.

Lordaeron. But Lordaeron fell, there are no people left just… just…

"You can't mean…?" She responded as she worked out his meaning.

"Those are our people, Mom. Just like those are our people downstairs whom the Light embraced and healed. Tomorrow, they're going home to Tarren Mill in Hillsbrad, fully cured, but more will come just like they did earlier today." Jeshua told her.

Miriam couldn't believe what she was hearing. Had her son lost his mind in his travels? She had heard the rumors, but like most had trouble believing them.

"I want you to come home with me, Jeshua. Come home to Joseph and your brothers and sister." She told him in a voice only a mother could use.

"I can't. Not now. I don't know if I ever can." He told her flat out. "I'm sorry. I have to finish what I've begun."

"I am your mother, Jeshua Davidson, and I am telling you to come home with me, right now!" She told him sternly.

"My mother is the woman who heard the word of the Light and obeyed it willingly." He responded softly, but loud enough for her to hear.

She slapped him again hard on the other side of his face. Another hand shaped red welt rose to match the first. Pain was fresh and red on her own face as his words stung her. Then, realizing what she had done, she clapped her hands to her face, and began to sob.

"I'm so scared Jeshua. I just don't want to lose you again." She told him.

Jeshua moved forward to hold her again, trying to comfort her but holding his own ground. "I have to finish what's begun, Mom. I can't stop until everything has changed."

"You're just one man, Jeshua." Miriam whispered as she accepted his embrace. "The problems of this world are so much bigger than we are. The people you've caught the attention of, Jeshua, they won't hesitate to use you for their own advantage, or destroy you if you get in their way. I saw what the Forsaken army did to Gilneas. I saw it with my own eyes. We both only barely escaped with our lives. The Banshee Queen won't hesitate to murder you and raise your corpse as some monstrosity."

Jeshua replied, holding her out away from his chest so that he could see her face. "But like the others, she wasn't given the choice to be what she is. She was just as much a victim to the Lich King as anyone else. She's granted permission for the cured to return home unmolested, and for as many of the Forsaken to come to me as want to. The Light is calling to her too, Mom."

"You're not going to come home with me, are you?" She asked, her hopes fading. "I had thought… I had hoped… Joseph wanted to see you, and Jimmy and Jude and… What do I tell them?"

"Tell them I'm well and I'm doing what I was meant to do." He replied. "Tell them I love them all, and I'm doing this for them too."

The next day…

The following day after breakfast, having made their decision, most of the humans from Tarren Mill set out on the journey to return home. Those who didn't made request of Lord Tyrosus to be put to work where in Hearthglen, offering their skills to the Argent Crusade where they could. In all, over two hundred people sought refuge in Hearthglen, and nearly two hundred people then left for their homes in the more southern province the way they came.

The house where Jeshua and his apprentices remained in felt much emptier now. Jeshua had asked to be alone that morning, and was spending time in an upstairs room, kneeling on the floor, deep in contemplation. On his encouragement, at least for now, his mother had returned earlier that morning to Stormwind by way of the Mage and his portal that had brought her and the Draenei there to Hearthglen. She would tell them that he was at least well, and they needed her more than he did, especially his much younger sister, Sarah.

His mother's visit hadn't come without an emotional cost to him. It opened fresh the wounds which had been inflicted upon his leaving for both of them. He didn't fault her for her anger, or for her lashing out at him. He had, in some ways expected it, but that did not lessen the blows when they came.

His sire embraced him in the contemplation as the Light always did, encouraging and reassuring him. The meeting the night before had been emotionally exhausting even as he sent his mother away again to return home. He let go of his own pain, allowing the Light to take it and consume it within its own compassion and love. His sending her away, painful as it had been, had also been an act of compassion even thought it had not felt like one. It was just too dangerous for her to be where he was right now. Hearthglen might be a safe haven, but he could not stay here forever either. His sire was calling him west. Not yet, but eventually, and that road would be the hardest one yet for any of them.

Knock! Knock! There was a mild rap on the door of the room he knelt motionless in and it drew him out of his contemplation. He knew that those with him wouldn't have disturbed him if it wouldn't have been for good reason.

He opened his eyes and allowed himself to reorient back to where he was in space and time.

"Shan'do?" He heard a Night Elf voice call out. It belonged to Syloren.

"Yes?" Jeshua replied back, recovering his voice.

"Shan'do, you have more visitors." Syloren told him. "They would like to speak with you."

"Of course." Jeshua replied as he got to his feet. "I'll be down quickly."

He turned to a set of clothes lying on the bed which had been left for him much earlier that day. With them came mixed feelings. He had been grateful that they had been given, but was himself not concerned with his own clothing or appearance.

A package had been left with Vasuuvata for him by his mother before she departed. When it had been given to him and he had opened it, he had been surprised to see a long, dark gray woolen robe, fresh white linen shirt, and woolen pants with belt. The robe held an insignia of the Argent Crusade on the breast, but otherwise the clothes held no other ornamentation, his mother knowing he would never wear them if they did, but they were clean, well made, and new. She had also included a new pair of leather sandals for his feet. When the Draenei woman had received the package from her, Miriam had told her, "Tell my son these are for him. I had to guess at the sizes, and the quartermaster here didn't have much, but they should fit. It gets cold this far north and it wouldn't do for him to get sick."

He had not asked for the gift, or any gift from his mother. He had not expected anything. He had worn the same clothes he had now for a long, long time. They had served their purpose even as he moved to fulfill his own. Neither, he decided, would he spurn it. She had purchased the clothes for him out of a sincere motherly concern, and maybe it was a way of saying she forgave him. He would not reject that by rejecting the clothing.

He pulled off his old garments and pulled on the new ones. They felt fresh and clean as he did, though the new wool itched a bit as wool always does. Taking the leather sandals, he found that they fit well, and gave his feet good support as he laced them up.

Fully dressed he left the room to come downstairs. There, in the common room sat three Draenei men, one of whom was very ancient, even for a Draenei man. The elder one's beard was snow white, and it reached almost to his belt line. The lines of a hard life and the burden of responsibility hung heavy upon him. He stood up and the two others dressed in the armor of Draenei Paladins stood with him. There was a sadness in his eyes even as he greeted the human.

"Greetings, Jeshua." The Draenei man offered. "I am honored to finally meet you. I have heard a great deal about you and the command of the Light you possess from many different people."

"Greetings to you, Velen, Prophet of the Light." Jeshua returned, gesturing for the much older man to sit down again.

Velen appeared to pause uncomfortably at the title Jeshua gave him

"The things I have heard you capable of," Velen began, "demonstrate a communion with the Light unheard of even among my own people, though what you teach is... controversial, shall we say, at least from what I heard yesterday in your exchange with Sylvanas. There are some in Stormwind who would take a dim view of what you did and said."

Jeshua studied the man. He could see the deep pain and loss he had gone through etched in every wrinkle and expression of his face. Thought it was obvious such an important man had come in some official capacity, there was also a personal searching in his eyes, a longing for answers he thought he might find with him.

"Unless you have been reborn in the Light, you won't understand how the Light reigns." Jeshua told him.

Velen's expression became one of confusion. He wasn't certain he understood what the renegade preacher had said. "I'm sorry? What do you mean, 'reborn in the Light'?"

Jeshua responded, "When a human mother gives birth, it is a human babe to which she gives birth. When a Draenei woman gives birth, it is a Draenei babe to which she gives birth. So it is in the natural world. Kind gives birth to kind. You wouldn't expect a Draenei to give birth to a human child, nor a human, say, to an Orc. Imagine the poor midwife who discovered that!"

Velen smirked at the image of some poor human woman discovering a tusked green skinned child. It was a wicked thought perhaps, but humorous. Still, he didn't understand where Jeshua was going with this.

"So also the Light gives birth to Light, and Shadow to Shadow." Jeshua continued. "The Light does not give birth to Shadow but wherever it shines, the Shadow vanishes because it cannot exist in its radiance. Neither can the Shadow give birth to or understand the Light or the ways of the Light. In order to understand the Light, one must be born by the Light. You are a Priest of the Holy Light, surely you know this, Velen."

Velen did not answer, but appeared to be trying to understand his words as though they were still a complex riddle to him. A look of frustration appeared on his face as he said, "I don't understand."

Jeshua looked at him intently. No, it wasn't that the Draenei man didn't understand. Jeshua saw into him in a way few could. It was that there was a taint of Shadow there that wrestled with his understanding. In truth, the venerable Prophet understood what he was saying only too well. "I only teach what I know and have experience with. You do understand what I'm saying now and what I told Sylvanas yesterday only too well, but you're not accepting it because of the Shadow which has taken hold of you."

Velen then stared at the young human. "You know nothing about me." He told him defensively, agitation rising in his voice.

"No one truly knows the Light, but the Light itself and the one who has been born of it." Jeshua said. "The Light shines in the darkness, revealing those things the Shadow would rather keep hidden, purifying and consecrating them again when the Shadow would keep them impure and tainted. Hatred and bitterness are not of the Light but of the Shadow. Hatred is an absence of love, and the Light is love, Velen. The Light loved the people of Azeroth so much that it sired a son so that everyone who would come to him would find salvation and redemption and not be lost to the Shadow. The Light didn't send me into this world to destroy or take retribution on anyone, but my sire sent me here to save this world. Let me help you find your way again, my friend. Let the Light be reborn within you once more."

Velen sat in the chair he had been in silent at Jeshua's words. A struggle was being fought within himself, and he realized for the first time that which he hadn't wanted to admit to himself. The Light hadn't forsaken him, he had walked away from the Light the day both Or'os and his son had died. Anger and bitterness had overwhelmed him and he could not let it go. He could not forgive but had wanted vengeance. He had directed that anger and hatred towards the Burning Legion, but found even that once the Legion had been all but destroyed it still remained, and he had nowhere to direct it to but inwards. Ultimately, he had blamed himself for their deaths adding to them all those that died or worse on Argus because he had taken those who would follow him and left, including his wife.

Tears came to Velen's eyes as the pain tore through him fresh and new and his own hands went to his face to cover it for shame. "It was my fault." He whispered through them. "I shouldn't have… I failed them. I failed all of them."

The vindicators who had stood behind their leader didn't know what to do or how to help him. They could see the young human attempting to speak with him gently, and to their surprise with some authority, but they were at a loss with his pain.

"The Light is calling to you. My sire is calling you home, Velen." Jeshua told him, his voice gentle, not much more than a whisper, but audible. "Let me lend my Light to yours."

Jeshua then tenderly reached out a hand to take the Prophet's own aged, azure skinned hand in his own. A peace flowed from the human's touch into Velen, a Light stronger and more radiant than Velen's own communion had ever been. It shone brighter and brighter within Velen's soul, banishing and dissolving the Shadow which had threatened the Draenei's very sanity, and flooding him with a calmness and a serenity he had not known for longer than his memory served him.

"Let me shine within you once more, my old friend." The words were Jeshua's but Velen could feel them deep within his own soul, more ancient than even he was.

When Jeshua took his hand away from Velen's, the aged Draenei man's soul felt at rest. There was a joy that he could not explain, and a release that had occurred within him as though he had not seen the sun for thousands of years. He looked in amazement at the young human man and without sound escaping his lips, he mouthed the words, "Thank you."

"This is why I have come, to reveal the Light for all to see." Jeshua replied. "No matter who they are."