As soon as Lucian saw Hellscream's blade swishing toward him, the man knew he was done for. All this work, all the anticipation, it had led up to this one single moment, and he sure as hell wasn't going to make it all for nothing. With a self-encouraging shout, he embraced Hellscream's attack, standing his ground as he felt the axe connect with his own flesh, felt the odd, numb chop of the blade as it cleaved through his armor and hit home.
It was right then, right in that last moment, that he thought of Norivana, that he realized that all the time he'd spent convincing her he'd be okay was for naught. He'd failed, he realized. He failed her.
Regret and anger gripped him like a vice, and in his final seconds, he braced both hands against the Warchief's forearm, knowing he had only moments left before his life left him. In one final attempt to somehow put the battle in the favor of the King, Lucian let all his energy, literally everything he had left, channel into one final spell. One single spell that would be Lucian's last hurrah, his last effort against this corruption. He let his energy detonate in a mighty burst that surged straight into the pulsating mass on the Orc's armor, leaving him drained.
Lucian felt all the energy he had left leave his own body through the spell as his heart shut down from the blade, and his eyes slowly drooped shut, their last vision being that of Hellscream stumbling backward as the Y'shaarj heart began to fail him.
The first thing Lucian noticed as his eyes focused was color. Lots, and lots of color. There were colors here he'd never seen before, hundreds of colors his eyes had never beheld in all of his time spent among the living. A spectrum of seven different shades had transformed into that of thousands.
He held out his hands, staring at them in awe, reveling in the beauty of the way the light reflected off of his pale blue skin in ten thousand hues.
A distant voice called out to him and he raised his head, feeling oddly euphoric for no reason other than because he was happy. The sounds he heard were more of a dull buzz, a soft hazy hum compared to what he was used to. It put him at ease.
More voices called to him, and he finally caught sight of their owners, realizing they were people from his tribe. People who'd died in battle, people he'd been alive with less than an hour ago.
People who'd died with him.
This didn't make him sad, though. No, all he wanted right now was to go to them. They called to him, beckoning, grinning and happy, and he made to take a step forward. He wanted to go to them. That's all he wanted.
However, as he put one foot in front of the other, a pull started that seemed to base itself at his spine, an odd sensation that tugged at his core and coaxed him backward, drew him further and further from his friends. A soft, warm light wrapped itself around him, infusing itself into his essence and focusing straight in his heart. He felt it grow warmer as it continued to tug him backward, pulling him away from the members of his tribe. It got warmer to the point of being hot, then uncomfortably so, burning, then painful, then excruciating.
Lucian doubled over as the pain wracked him, originating from his heart and surging into his limbs. He'd always been fairly tolerant of pain, but this was something he could never have prepared for. He fell to his knees and then to a crawl, then reached an arm out, grasping toward where he'd last seen his friends, but suddenly the colors began to dull, to fade, and everything hurt. He began gasping for breath, still grasping for his friends and begging for help.
The color faded until it was all dull greys and browns. The pain throbbed continuously a few more times before he felt the warm light surge again and suddenly his vision resurfaced, and he was met with a familiar, unexpected face.
Aitto Thunderhoof was kneeling down in front of Lucian with both hands held against his chest. Lucian realized he was somehow leaning with his back half-propped against a cold, stone wall, and he opened his mouth to speak, feeling shocked and bewildered as the memories of where he'd just been began to fade away, leaving nothing but his knowledge of what was happening right now. Before he could get any words out, though, the pain started again, and he winced painfully and doubled over, at the same time as his ears started to pick up the sounds around him. It was the sounds of chaos, even more intense than he remembered from earlier now that his adrenaline had worn off and his senses were more acute.
Finally, he realized Aitto was speaking to him, sounding as if a lid had been lifted.
"—hear me? Lucian!" Aitto pleaded in his deep vibrato, voice rough and stressed. The Tauren glanced behind himself, making sure there was no imminent threat before resuming his attempt to help Lucian. He gripped Lucian by the shoulder. "Dammit, man, talk to me," he coaxed.
Lucian coughed, the action ending in a strangled choke before he finally managed to croak out a word, "F-fine," he gritted out, "I'm—I'm..." he gasped as the pain still gripped him, "Alive." It was as much a surprise to him as anyone else.
Lucian knew he'd died. He had not imagined that. So to be ripped away from death, to be dragged back into the chaos of battle, it was disorienting and upsetting. He could only guess that someone had resurrected him, and judging by who was in front of him right now, it'd been Aitto.
Aitto sent another healing spell surging straight into Lucian's chest, this time the sensation more soothing than when Lucian had been yanked back into the land of the living. Lucian took in a sudden, deep breath as the pain ebbed away and finally allowed him to focus properly.
"Thanks," Lucian almost wheezed, but his gratitude was left unnoticed as Aitto had turned and was staring in full shock at whatever was playing out on the battlefloor. Lucian peered around the Tauren, realizing that Aitto must have dragged him up onto a more remote platform in the corner of the gigantic theater. He now had a clear bird's-eye view of the entire floor, and what he saw there had his jaw dropping nearly to his feet.
In the midst of the giant mass of clashing swords, spells, and bodies, he saw one small, red-haired individual literally cleaving her way through the Orcs in a beeline for the now-weakened Warchief. Not only that, but her hood had been knocked off her head, and he saw that her eyes were now glowing with an almost painfully-bright silver. Her necklace glowed the same, so strongly that even from this distance, Lucian could see it clear as day. From this distance, he couldn't feel the connection between himself and her necklace, and he wondered how it was possibly glowing like that on its own. From the way her eyes were glowing, Lucian realized that in his last few seconds, she must have absorbed so much of his power that she was practically a living wind-up toy, jazzed up on an almost endless supply of the energy he'd released at the moment of his death.
Norivana was letting out the loudest, most intense war cry that Lucian ever heard come from the woman as she sliced her way through multitudes of enemies. Her expression was almost crazed, furious and pained, and Lucian stared on in shock as he saw her take down Orcs twice her size like they were putty. Her currently-braided hair was falling out of place, becoming wild as she whirled about and smashed through the Kor'kron forces. All around her, the Sha spirits that'd been surrounding Hellscream began to materialize and attack, but she swept through them with nothing but a second glance and kept her eye on her prize.
After just a few more seconds, Lucian sat up from where he'd been leaning on the wall in anticipation as he saw everything rise to its peak.
At one side of Hellscream, Vol'jin and his forces began volleying down attacks, at the same time as Sylvanas's and Lor'themar's both shot out assaults of their own. On another side, Thrall sent out a crackling bolt of lightning energy toward the Warchief while Tyrande and Varian's people led their attacks. Along with those leaders and some more minor ones, countless different mercenaries and champions and hired guilds all came together in one violent movement that, although Hellscream continued to cleave through them, finally gave them the upper hand. Lucian could see some people popping in and out of sight as they attacked the Warchief, and he realized after a short study that it was Ian and his guild members all working in synchronization to create holes in the creature's armor and to open up weak spots for the rest of the armies. Ian's tactics were the crucial point for this whole thing to work; in order for Hellscream to be taken down, his armor had to go first.
Hellscream's Y'shaarj armor began to falter, rippling under the assaults of so many, and after what Lucian had done with his bursting spell, it had already been weakened. One chunk of the repulsing armor got ripped away while another disintegrated under the strike of a destructive spell, and slowly, gradually, Hellscream's armor began to peel away, leaving him more and more vulnerable by the second.
Nearly all the Kor'kron forces had dwindled to about fifty or so Orcs; probably over half of which had been taken out by Norivana as she carved through them. A nerve at Lucian's neck tensed while he watched helplessly as Norivana drew closer and closer to her target, not stopping or slowing her pace no matter what got in her way.
She's going to get herself killed, Lucian worried to himself, Why is she being so reckless?
"What is she doing?!" He voiced his worries and gripped his hands into fists, and Aitto gritted his jaw.
"She's infuriated," Aitto replied with an equal amount of concern, "I... I think she may have seen you die."
"She's doing this on purpose," Lucian suddenly realized, recognizing the look in the crazed woman's eyes. This was her suicide mission.
Lucian stared wordlessly in horror and agitation as he saw her reach her final patch of Kor'kron and demolish them in just a few strikes. Now, behind her lay a stretch of dead Orcs, and before her was Hellscream.
Not once breaking her stride, Norivana upped her pace and ran full-speed at the Orc who saw her at the last second and raised his weapon just in time to block her attack. Norivana let out what could only be described as a screech and threw herself at him again, blades flying and eyes crazed. He blocked her attack again and knocked her down right as he managed to parry multiple attacks from the leaders around him; he parried the King's blade to the side with a violent swing of his weapon, at the same time absorbing spells and arrows coming at him from all sides.
A flash of white drew Lucian's attention and his nerves went completely on edge as he saw his little sister rushing to Norivana's aid. He gripped his fists tighter as he saw Lena narrowly dodge an attack from Hellscream as she attempted to pull Norivana back out of harm's way. Norivana shoved Lena away violently, sending the young elf back into the crowd of Druids nearby and shaking her head forcefully.
Now re-focused on her target, Norivana stood there for a second before suddenly vanishing completely from view. At the same time, Ian's guild's assaults on the Y'shaarj armor finally proved a success as Hellscream's blackened armor burst from every part of where it'd taken hold, and it shattered into thousands of shards. Lucian startled as he saw the Warchief's armor itself explode, and through the excitement he finally caught sight of Norivana again.
She'd unstealthed halfway through a running leap at the Warchief's now-exposed back, and Lucian stared as it seemed to play out in slow motion: Norivana, flying through the air toward Hellscream with a murderous expression, her eyes glowing the brightest, most intense silver Lucian had ever seen. She positioned her dagger in her hands mid-air, arching her back as she drew her blade back over her head before crashing it down deep into Hellscream's back, straight toward his heart.
The man let out a roar as her blade hit home and he flung his arms around to catch her, but she leapt off him nimbly, yanking her dagger out before slashing both of them out wide into Hellscream's hamstrings.
Everything then happened at once. An arrow hit home against one of his shoulderblades. A spell caught him by the jaw, and a fireball exploded at his feet. He became frantic, swinging his remaining weapons out wide and trying to stay upright despite the fact that Norivana had successfully ruined both of his legs. He attempted to take a step forward but faltered, his eyes flashing for the first time with what looked like fear before he got hit straight in the face with an exploding spell. He stumbled, crashing down onto his knees before falling forward face-down onto the stone floor.
Immediately, Norivana was there, blade raised to make the kill. Lucian, despite his current state, stood in surprise, staring out in absolute awe at what was about to happen. A minute earlier, he'd been convinced she was about to die. Now, she was kneeling over a downed monster with a blade at his back.
He saw her raise her blade, point it dangerously toward the Orc's heart, and plunge.
Little bit of reminiscing here, that last sentence mirrors the last one in chapter 1. Didn't think about it until I realized it was extremely familiar. Guess I have a natural urge to create full-circle stories. xD
Next chapter has more battlestuffs, don't worry! Wootwoooooot!