Chapter 29: Learning Who I Am

I sat on the undead warhorse just on the border of Tirisfal Glades and Silverpine Forest, watching the lines of caravans pass, the other Forsaken carrying crates, tools, and equipment as we ventured further south into the darkened forest.

"Where shall we set up, Ambermill, perhaps, or take over Shadowfang, hmm?" I heard Silas chime in for next to me, but I looked up at the grey-green sky and shook my head.

"There is a graveyard along the road south." I said, pulling my horse down the hill. "We'll set up there."

"A graveyard, how strange and curious of you, but why, phoenix, but why, why there of all places to pick from, why not some place nice?" Silas asked.

"It seems fitting, I think."

"And from there, hmm?" Silas asked, tenting his fingers beneath his chin.

"I have some personal matters to take care of."

Let's see, where did I leave off? We were going to Brill, but we stopped along the road when a rainstorm came across Tirisfal, forcing us to stop at a rundown farmstead along the road, and Silas and I had a moment to catch our breath as the saying goes, but we were quickly on our way once more. It was in Brill that we stayed another day, and I took the time to be along in a room I had rented in the inn. Silas did not take well to me leaving his side as he had grown rather attached to me rather quickly. It was disconcerting, but I had my mind on other matters. I had to learn more of my physiology, my behaviors, what my body could and could not take, but it proved difficult without any of my equipment, and most of my laboratory was back at my estate. It was the estate that Arthur had left me so many, many years ago. I visited very rarely, and only for a day at most, then it was back to Dalaran, but we'll get to that later. I'm probably confusing you, but it was a very confusing time for me, as it was strange to be caught in such a place, like I was in limbo, and being constantly surrounded by Silas didn't help things. He seemed so strange, but I didn't put much thought into it. After all, everyone I knew was either dead or missing, so I clung to any companionship I could get my ruined hands on.

It seemed the stories of my exploits at Deathknell had reached Brill on rather swift wings, for the town was in a bustle when we arrived, with new buildings being erected, old ones being repaired, and weapons being forged day and night. Not having to sleep in this state quickly became a blessing. So much could be accomplished when you have no need for rest, and I quickly took that time to learn more of my new people. Many of them had gained a sense of apathy regarding…well, everything. Some would sit for hours and just stare off into space, and some were happy to take reckless jobs to hunt Scarlet Crusaders through the countryside, dive to the bottom of lakes, or climb to the top of rickety buildings to put new roofing in. The threat of death was long gone from these people, and they looked for any excuse to taste it again, but some were so stubborn, they would look for new ways to put themselves in danger.

When we first arrived, so many eyes were on me, some even stopped what we were doing to stare at Silas and I.

"It seems you've already gotten some fans, it does, it does!" Silas would say, clapping his hands and spreading his arms wide. I said nothing, only looking around at the small town and the people that lived there.

My hands constantly ached, and did not show any signs of healing during our short travel to Deathknell. I racked my brain to try and come up with a solution, but nothing ever came. I had hoped the answer would come to me when I was finally given the chance to go to my old estate. I hesitate to call it my home, because it wasn't, and I only had one home.

We continued on towards the Capital, but I noticed the area was eerily silent when we began our approach up to the gates.

"Silas, where is everybody?" I asked quietly.

"Here!" Silas said with a toothy grin.

"But…there's nobody here. The Capital is empty and silent."

He shook his head and clicked his tongue. "No, you'll see soon, you will, you will."

We walked through the gates and into the courtyard that lead to the throne room. I looked at the ground and saw the blackened petals and came to a stark realization. This is the path that Arthas had walked when he returned home. You can go there even now and see it, see those blackened and dark petals. If you listen closely, and close your mind, you can still hear the cry of the townspeople and the death of the beloved King Terenas as if the twisted spirits there still wrestled with their torment.

"Are you coming, phoenix?" He asked.

I was standing in the center of the throne room, just listening. I had been here so many times before at court to discuss the Second War, remembering the faces of Terenas, Perenolde, Thoras, and Genn. The dais was still stained with the blood of the final king of Lordaeron. We moved around the throne room and to the back area, when I noticed the sarcophagus.

I ran my bandaged hand over the top of the tomb and read the plaque.

"This is…" I muttered, looking to Silas.

"It is, it is, just a monument, with what little we had. He was our king, a good man, taken by a dark soul." Silas said. "Come. Not much further now."

We went further back into the halls when I noticed the stonework here was new. They had tunneled into the marble and stone and created three halls to where the new elevators would be. They were guarded by abominations, which made no indication they even noticed us, but all the same, it gave my pause, but I pressed on and followed Silas into the elevator.

"Welcome to Undercity." He had said. I won't bother you with describing the Forsaken capital to you; you've been there or heard of it. It was not much different than it is now, but much of it was still under construction, and I could tell that my feats had reached even here, when many of the workers bowed or worked with increased fervor when I neared. Undercity was built into the sewers of the capital city, and it required much augmentation to fit our purposes, but I reckoned that the work would take no more than a month to complete.

We worked our way further into the sewers, careful not to disturb the building materials laid out, or the abominations, turning into what would be the Apothecary Quarter of Undercity.

"Built like a Scourge necropolis, it is, it is!" Silas said, his voice echoing off the high walls, "An homage to our former masters, and a testament of proof that they can be beaten!"

He told me of the Royal Apothecary Society, alchemists, scientists, and doctors that had been free and joined the ranks of our Queen to serve her to study the plague in its natural state, and develop our people's weapons beyond what we had at our disposal.

We finally reached the Royal Quarter of Undercity.

"She is busy," growled the Dreadlord. I stared at him, but some of those memories were too fragmented to recall, only that Sylvanas had subjugated one of the Dreadlords that jailed the Lich King before…

Ahem.

"Ah, Varimathras," Silas said, approaching the dais. "May we speak with Our Lady?"

"I said she is busy," growled the indignant Dreadlord once more. "Come back when you've more than insanity to spew forth, warlock."

"Hold," came the dark, ghostly voice from the throne that had been built. "You," she pointed at me from the darkness, "Approach."

Silas looked offended, but I approached along to our queen's seat and bowed, but had nothing to say for a moment.

"I'd wondered who you were to instill such clarity and pride in our people." She said. I finally got a good look at her, with her dark blue skin and glowing red eyes. She looked like Sylvanas, only…dead.

"This is the one?" said Varimathras. "He cannot be. Look at him, my queen. A street rat begging for crumbs."

I looked down at myself and realized I was still wearing a pair of rat-eaten old robes, tattered boots and gloves and a sash that was held together by only a few stitches.

"Pardon my state of dress." I said, glaring at Varimathras. "I had not the time to go to the market between crawling out of a grave and coming here."

"You dare…" Varimathras said, coming toward me.

"You will not lay a hand on him, Dreadlord." Sylvanas said. "Matthew, was it?"

I looked back at her and nodded. "Yes, I…"

"I know who you are. And where you come from, and in any other life, we would be equals, wouldn't it?" She smirked at me. "Tell me, is it true what they say?" She looked at my bandaged and ragged hands, then back up to my face. "It seems you also understand how the light works with your new body."

I told her the truth, without embellishment, of our defense of Deathknell, of what the people there were like, and the state of Brill, and even here, in what would be our capital. It caused her to slump in her seat.

"My people have no heart, I fear." She said. "Death took that from them."

"My queen," I began, looking from her to Varimathras, then back, "If I may make a suggestion?"

She looked at me in surprise, but she said nothing, so I took it as agreement.

"We are confined to here, Brill, and Deathknell, a meager nation. Were it me, I would expand our borders and…"

That was the beginning of it all, really. From there till now, simply treating Sylvanas with respect earned me even greater respect in return from her subjects. I suggested we needed to focus on expanding our borders, equipping our soldiers, and learning more of our state of undeath. She had nothing to truly offer me in return, but I could tell even she was deeply afflicted with our apathy, depression, and the darker side of what it truly meant to be undead. I dared not ask of Silvermoon, because I could tell that wound was still very, very fresh. Varimathras only glared at me, and that started years of animosity between us, until that matter was settled in our favor, but at great cost. She listened, and I paced. It didn't take much convincing, but I think Sylvanas tried to lead us as one would lead soldiers, not as one would lead an entire people, but I think it made a difference in the long run. In fact, I'm certain of it.

She also gave me a spool of what was called corpse thread, to help with my hands. It was a special thread used on corpses that would meld into the flesh and prepare the body for burial, but in our case, it helped it mend wounds.

That brings us to here! She tasked me with expanding our borders and to find the raw materials we'd need to craft our arms and armor, our structures, and the various alchemical components we'd need to survive.

"You take these men, these four, up that way, take the trees closest to the cliff, and then move towards the lake. You, you, and you, take one of the canoes across the lake and secure Fenris Keep. You four take our teams to the two mines and find any precious metal; iron, copper, tin, whatever you can get your hands on." I issued orders from the top of the warhorse and everyone seemed rather inclined to listen, thankfully. Silas grew more and more moody as I fell into the new leadership roll I was given, so he said little, only helping where he thought he was most useful, but, sadly, most found him annoying and told me to bugger off.

It was sad, but at that time, I was his only friend.

"Start securing this area, go no further south than here."

"Phoenix, but what of Ambermill and Pyrewood, ripe for the pickings!" Silas chimed in, clenching his fists, but I shook my head.

"No, Silas, we must wait until we stand in a place where sending them into battle is wise and not suicidal."

And it was the truth. These people wore awful clothing, broken armor, and rusted weapons.

"Raid the abandoned farms along the road, you and you, bring back any cloth you find, salvage anything that can be reused, and bring it back here."

It would not be enough for a while yet, but it would hold us out until I could get back to the estate, which I constantly kept a close eye out for a chance to sneak away quietly. I was not given the chance until later, but I was content in helping these Forsaken secure these lands. They were my people too, and I was quickly learning to grasp and accept that.

"Silas, I have business to take care of in the mountains surrounding Hillsbrad." I said, summoning my undead horse, which prompted him to summon his.

"Very well, let us be off, off and away!" He said, grinning at me like a child.

"No, Silas, I need to be alone for a time."

He looked crushed and I couldn't help but roll my eyes at him. Thankfully, he didn't notice.

"But what will I do, will I do, until you return?" He hollered.

"Just help where you can, I will return in a day or two."

"Sylvanas will not be pleased, she won't, she won't!" He said, wagging a finger at me.

I sighed and shook my head. "Yes she will, Silas. Please, just remain here and…"

"At this Sepulcher? Here? But Matthew, they do—"

"Silas!" I finally raised my voice. "Enough. I need you here, inform Sylvanas that preparations are well underway and that I've private matters to tend to. I'll have no more of your lip and just ask that you do as I tell you."

Sometimes I wonder if that was the moment he began to resent me. Or idolize me. I'm not sure. These Forsaken, they listened to me, and I gained Sylvanas' favor rather quickly with my optimism and ingenuity. I still felt the darkness, the depression, the strong desire to be like the ones that stared off into the distance, but…

The Scourge took everything I knew and loved. I'll be damned if I let them take me too.

He said nothing; he only climbed down off his horse and wandered off. I knew he would be useless here, as he was useless at just about everything other than what little magic I saw him cast, but I just needed…I needed to be alone.

Finally, I managed to ride away and south towards Hillsbrad. My estate was tucked within the mountains surrounding the area, hiding behind…oh, well; you'll see when I get there. I took my time to go through Hillsbrad, following the road. Hillsbrad itself was largely untouched by the Scourge, as was Southshore. The same could not be said for Terran Mill, which is where I believe we would be setting up our next settlement. I looked to the north and turned my warhorse and forced it into a run, going towards Dalaran. I think, in my mind, I needed the closure to be able to be at peace, but when I saw the great magical barrier over the city, it gave me hope. Hope that the city would one day reach its peak once more so that it could flourish as a testament to humanity's tenacity.

Even if I couldn't go there ever again.

As I turned my horse towards the mountains, I could have sworn I saw Ansirem among some of the mages come out of the barrier, but I turned away before they saw me. It was kind of nice, being able to ride through the night to where my estate was, until the morning sun started to just show itself over the horizon. I didn't even realize how long I had been riding until I actually arrived and it was just after noon of the next day when I arrived at a very small, seemingly innocuous cave. I dispelled the horse and stepped inside.

"Now, where was it…?" I felt around until I felt the bricks I had laid into the granite, and then tapped them in a certain sequence. No, I won't tell you what sequence, but the cave wall slowly flickered out of existence, allowing me entrance to my ground.

Now, you may remember at the beginning of my tale, how Arthur had given me his estate and his fortune, but it had all largely been untouched, save for the house itself undergoing extensive remodeling and construction. I frowned when I saw the dead, overgrown grass, the topiary that had withered away and died. I had put so much work into them. There was a tool shed just behind the house, a small fountain which had dried up, and a pond that was filled with rot from the fish that had been neglected. I sighed and scratched my head, following the cobblestone path up to the house. It was very quiet here, and for the first time in a long time, I was finally alone. My entire life I was surrounded by people; my parents, Arthur, the rest of the Council, Lothar, the Dawnshatters, and now Silas. It gave me a great sense of relief and peace when I was truly alone.

I approached the door and realized that my key was probably lost forever somewhere between Deathknell and Dalaran, so I lifted the man then pulled up the stone box that was laid in there and opened it, retrieving the spare key and unlocking the door.

It was cold and musty inside, and everything was covered with a thick layer of dust. I sighed again, realizing I had much work to do before I could be comfortable here again. I stood in the foyer for several minutes before I opened the nearby broom closet and retrieved the duster, broom, and several other tools, casting a cantrip upon them to allow them to automate their cleaning. It was a start, but I had other things on my mind. I went upstairs and into my bedroom, walking towards the en suite, pulling off my clothing and letting their tattered remains fall to the floor. I took a long, hot shower to wash the muck and filth from my body, letting the hot water soothe my frayed nerves. It clogged the drain with so much grime, but it was worth it. It burned my hands something fierce, but I powered through the pain, looking at them before I finished and toweled myself off, and headed to an armoire in my bedroom and opened it. I had a set of clothes that I had made some years ago that I told myself I would wear once my time with the council was up and I could retire.

They were purple and red, with stylized fire on the bottom, sides, and back. The boots matched, as did the gloves and the shoulder pads and the sash. I stood in front of the mirror, thankful the old clothes still fit, thankful that I even had new clothes and did not need to spend the time making them.

They just needed a few modifications.

I headed downstairs and down into the basement, which doubled as my laboratory, making sure to grab my pack on the way down. It was mostly just as I had left it, if just a bit dustier and moldier, but I made my way to my chair in front of my desk and sat down with a soft groan. It felt so good to just sit down and be alone; I just stared off into space for a short while, to reflect upon the events of the past several years. I thought of the Dawnshatters and wondered what they were doing, and wondered if they were even alive. I thought of Modera, Aethas, and Kael'thas. Even Lothar, Turalyon, and Khadgar, and the others who had gone across the Dark Portal, wondering if they had known what had happened here.

I don't know how long I was sitting there, but I was brought back by a sharp twinge of pain in my left hand. I looked down and noticed that some of the flesh was quite literally falling off my hand. I stared at it for a second, and then looked at the gryphon statue on my desk, a birthday gift from Andris one year. I looked at the creature's talons and had an idea.

I stood up, going to one of the drawers on the opposite wall and opened it. Inside, there were several human bones inside, kept for safe keeping to study anatomy, nothing nefarious. I took just one, a femur I believe, and then walked back to the desk and set it down. I retrieved some tools; a scalpel, a hammer and chisel, and more bandages, then sat down with all of my materials and set to work.

I apologize if this is a bit graphic, but you'll be able to understand these.

The storyteller holds up his hands and spreads his fingers.

I first set to work carving the burned flesh from my fingers, but realized that would be pointless, and so I carved all of the flesh from my fingers and took a moment to study them. It hurt, but not badly, the area was mostly numb by this point. There were no tendons, ligaments, or cartilage left, so it was just bone that moved through some form of magic. My desk was bloodied by my work, but I noticed my blood had largely been replaced with what I would learn was the plague fluid from the resurrection into undeath. I continued to look at the statue for reference, but I set about stitching up my palms first. It was difficult, having no skin, surmising I should have done that first, but after several hours, I managed to clean up my palms and my hands themselves, stitching the corpse thread to the bone there, cutting away the burned flesh, and leaving the rest. I breathed a sigh of relief, and then picked up the scalpel again. What I did was I carved the bone into the shape of a great avian creature's talons. I chipped away at the bone without any thought, and replaced it with some of the bone I had gotten to fill in the gaps, then would smooth it would with bone paste. It was a long, arduous process, but eventually, I was able to carve them into the shape of talons, like a great bird. If Silas called me a phoenix, I may as well look the part. I was able to segment them so I could still flex them, here and here, at my knuckles, using other bone pieces to complete it, so when my hand was at rest, the talons were normal, but I could curve them or flex them either way. I sharpened each one to a point, and sharpened the bottom of each finger into a hard, sharp edge.

When I finished, my desk was an absolute mess, but I held up my new hands and flexed them over and over to get used to them. They felt good, almost normal, and I learned a great deal of myself and my people, our level of pain tolerance, what modifications we could go throw, and the like.

It felt…freeing to be able to do as I pleased without repercussions or fear of judgment. I wondered if that was how Kel'thuzad felt.

There were just a couple of more things I needed to do before returning to Silas, so I set about reactivating my constructs to guard and maintain the house. I was certain by the time I returned, it would be back to its old self again.

I took an iron cauldron that I used to make stews with into the basement and lit a strong fire beneath it with my magic. In it, I mixed some plaster, getting it to the point where it could be molded, and then set about creating a mask for my new outfit. My new talons proved difficult to use at first, lacking the dexterity, but I soon grasped they required much finer movements, which was fine by me. I created the mask to have a nose, a mouth, eyeholes, and carved teeth into the mask, sharp ones, and I also sculpted several small horn-like things, and smaller spikes. I then cast an enchantment on them, painted them, and then left those to dry while I…

Went and had dinner. I didn't care if I needed to eat or wanted to it, it felt normal, and I could have sworn I felt hungry. I found my icebox where I kept everything fresh, and made a dinner of fried onions, baked salmon and potatoes, and you'd best believe I wolfed the entire meal down in moments.

I sat there, looking for other things to occupy myself with when I realized I hadn't checked the vault yet, which, to no surprise at all; it was just as I had left it. I sent one of the constructs to Undercity with gold, cloth, metals, and any other materials I thought they might need to better the Forsaken.

A short time later, I returned to the basement to find my new adornments were quite dry. The spikes and horns were added to the shoulders. I wanted to look…fancy and threatening. Not frightening, just…in charge. The enchantment flickered to life when it touched my magic, the horns and spikes catching fire, but never burning, just a dull burn.

I took the mask and placed it on my face and it came to life, molding perfectly to my face, catching flame, and becoming much more animated to my facial expressions. I ran my hand over the enchanted plaster, feeling rather satisfied with it all. A shaft of very early sunlight peaked through one of the windows higher up on the basement wall, and I figured it was now time to return to Silas before he lost his mind further. I went back upstairs and opened up the cloak closet and pulled out a red, black, and gold cloak with a fancy design on the back of stylized golden curves, black outline, and inlaid rubies. I picked a staff, nothing fancy, I would need to come back to modify that later on. I summoned my warhorse and we departed once more, ensuring to shut the gate behind me so the constructs were not disturbed.

I raced back to Silverpine, finally feeling a new sense of purpose. The humans had failed, but I would ensure that the Forsaken would thrive and flourish where the humans were laid low. I arrived back in Silverpine at the settlement we had begun to set up, my horse rearing and releasing an eerie, ghostly whinny, everyone turning to look at me, even Sylvanas who had demanded to know where I was, but I think she was simply too stunned to say anything.

"He truly is a phoenix," muttered Silas.

"Yes." Sylvanas smirked gleefully, almost evilly. "He is my phoenix, aren't you, Matthew?"

I climbed down from the horse and shook my head, using the staff to help me walk. "I am not."

She glared at me, but I held up my hand. "We are all phoenixes. We've all risen above the ashes of our destiny, and we all began anew. I am not your phoenix, Dark Lady, I am my own phoenix. As are you, as if Silas, and is everyone Forsaken."

She stared at me and she turned toward The Sepulcher.

"I've a feeling you and I will get along very well, Matthew. Continue south and then west into Hillsbrad."

"Yes, my Queen." I said, tapping my staff into the dirt.

"For the Forsaken," She said as she turned to leave.

For the Forsaken was the call the entire settlement made in unison.