World of Warcraft: Shadowlands

by ScouterFight

Dark Forces are stirring, and sometimes you have to be the Villain to be the Hero the World needs. "I wasn't sure if you would come," Sylvanas stated softly without turning around to face her. Jaina growled and tried not to impale the Banshee on one of her ice spears, at least not yet.

7. Chapter 7

AN: Nothing much to say except that I'm sorry for being MIA recently.

I can't promise anything because I'm going to start school in less than two weeks, and I'm going to be so busy, so expect updates to continue at this pace. Meaning every three to six months.

Sorry, but I can't help it. I have days where I write more than 7k in a few hours and then I go months where I can't even write half a page.

Anyway, enjoy reading Chapter 6.

Over 14k words, so this update is even larger than usual.

By the way: Thanks to Archwraith and Freyjr from the community for Beta-reading for me.

---

Jaina nearly let the small hearthstone slip through her limp fingers, as her eyes took in the sheer magnitude of the camp before her. The hearthstone Sylvanas had given her just a few minutes ago was still warm but was rapidly cooling in the frigid air of Northrend.

But Jaina barely felt it, just as she barely felt the presence of Sylvanas and her Champion appearing behind her just moments after the energy of her own hearthstone had mostly receded back into itself. She looked around but everywhere she looked, her eyes once more found the mass of tents.

A sea of them was stretched out before her, it was only because the hearthstone had dumped her on a small hill that overlooked the encampment that she could truly take in its massive size. Even standing above the camp she could just barely make out the end of it stretching towards the horizon and into the frozen wastes of Northrend. There had to be thousands if not tens of thousands of Forsaken amassed.

Sylvanas stepped up next to her and chuckled when she saw the stunned look on her face.

"Surprised? I told you that I have been busy."

Jaina shook her head to rid herself of the astonishment that she was feeling, she had seen large armies over the years. Especially when both the Horde and Alliance had managed to put aside their differences and work together against a common foe.

All in all, the armies of Azeroth had never been huge in sheer numbers, the races of their world relied more on skill, Champions, and tactics than brute force through large armies. So as a consequence, the largest armies Azeroth has ever brought forward had centered at most around ten thousand, this became even truer in recent times, with one major conflict popping up after the other.

But the forces Sylvanas had amassed surpassed them all. The only armies that could have competed with this one, at least when it came to sheer numbers, had been the Scourge, and the Burning Legion.

She had expected a few thousand soldiers even when Sylvanas had subtly, or as subtly as she physically could at least, boasted about the fact that she had amassed a large army. She honestly hadn't expected this massive size. She couldn't believe that Sylvanas had managed so much in so little time, and all of that while still leading the Horde as Warchief and fighting in the Fourth War.

Sylvanas could have crushed the Alliance if she had wished to do so. And there would have been nothing they could have done against an army of this size. Even her own formidable strength would eventually run out against the sheer numbers she would have to face.

If the Banshee Queen had made the decision that she would only be able to defeat the Old Gods if she first wiped out the Alliance then she could have definitely done so.

She shook her head again. "I know but I hadn't really expected for there to be quite so many."

The Queen chuckled again, even as she too was shaking her head slightly.

Sylvanas crossed her arms in front of her chest, as they both let their eyes wander over the encampment. "Well, all of this has been over three years into the making, and I knew that I would need every single warrior that I could get my hands on. But I guess the End of Everything is a pretty good motivator…"

Jaina just hummed in response as she further observed the giant camp. On a closer look, she could see that the camp was divided into two parts. One was significantly bigger, while the other part was much, much smaller.

She guessed that the second part belonged to the Death Knights, the glimpses she got of the battle standards and other flags proved her observation further. A bit further away from the Ebon Blade camp, she spotted several larger undead shapes. A group of undead dragons and wyverns were lying in the snow. Some with armor but most without.

Smaller animals, both for the ground cavalry as well as a handful of those that would be able to carry their masters through the skies, had been placed much closer to the tents of the Death Knights.

The other part of the encampment was very clearly Forsaken, the color scheme that consisted of lilac, dark green, and steely grey gave it away easily. The banners all proudly displayed some version of the Forsaken crest and flag. A handful of different battle standards cropped up all over the camp, but they were too small, and not enough in numbers to make out from this distance.

Flying high above the large encampment were multiple different sized Necropolis. The largest was the famous Ebon Hold. The flying headquarters of the Knights of the Ebon Blade.

The others varied in size and in architecture, there were three more of the style that Acherus had been built in, one that was clearly nerubian in design, and the last one that appeared to have been made entirely of saronite, this was also the smallest of the necropolis flying above the undead camp.

Sylvanas' voice brought Jaina out of her observations and back into reality.

"Come, there is a lot to be done before the day is over."

"Am I going to meet your so-called lieutenants now?"

"Yes, I have called for a meeting in my command tent."

"I have been meaning to ask. Why are they called lieutenants anyway?"

Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Sylvanas stiffen suddenly, and at the same time, Zanris who was following behind them coughed suddenly. Jaina turned around in concern, she had never heard an undead cough. But the moment she had turned enough to face him, he had already straightened up again.

"Everything all right, Champion?" Sylvanas' voice was a near hiss and filled with obvious irritation.

"Everything is fine, my Queen." Came the neutral answer.

"Good. And to answer your question, it's not important."

"That doesn't answ-"

Another cough came from behind them.

"Jaina it seems your question aggravates my Champion's health; would you please drop it."

She raised an eyebrow at their strange behavior but let it go for now.

---

Jaina watched as Sylvanas's lieutenants, she was still mulling that one over, slowly filtered out of the tent.

It had been a long meeting, they had spent hours, planning the next steps in Sylvanas' grand plan. And then Sylvanas had revealed what Jaina's role would be in the coming war. The mage had expected outrage, shock, and outright objections but the initial reactions had been far calmer than she had expected.

Besides a few initial outbursts of objection, most of them had remained calm enough to at least listen first before they began to complain.

And most of them had, after taking a moment or two to think about it, openly approved of the plan. And a couple of those who had looked as if they had severe reservations had at least held their tongues and had listened when Sylvanas had gone on to explain the plan fully.

Only Nathanos had looked openly displeased with the news. His reaction had surprised her the most, hadn't he been the one who had given her the final push into making a decision just a few hours ago? Why was he now displeased about the fact that she would be wearing the Helmet?

She felt as if she was missing something, something important.

But she was glad that most of the others had seemed to be in agreement with the plan, at least nobody had spoken outright against it, but Jaina supposed that could also be because of the glare Sylvanas had shot at certain individuals while she had explained the situation.

The Val'kyr, one of the last two, as she had learned, had just nodded while she had calmly floated behind Sylvanas, Voss the rogue had grinned wolfishly as if she had won a bet, and a lot of gold at that moment.

The two captains of Sylvanas's Dark Rangers hadn't reacted, except for a short-shared glance with each other. The soldier, Belmont if she recalled correctly, had just nodded sharply before asking a few logistic questions, questions Jaina had mostly tuned out even though she knew that she really should have listened.

The man that Sylvanas had introduced as Master Apothecary Faranell had glowered at her, but he had really glowered at almost everyone present during the meeting, especially at Blightcaller. The Dread-Admiral that had introduced herself as Tattersail had just grunted in agreement before giving her a curt nod.

It was obvious that Sylvanas was still running a tight ship so to speak.

None of the others had outright disagreed with her, not even once. And during the rare instances when she had said something that a few of them didn't fully agree with, they had always tried to work around the problem instead of outright objecting to Sylvanas' words.

It was obvious that Sylvanas' word was law amongst the Forsaken. Generally, Sylvanas's opinions were facts to her people, she just rarely got questioned and the meeting had been wrapped up fairly quickly.

While Jaina was not a fan of this extremely authoritarian system, especially not one that was centered around one single individual, with almost no regard for others' opinions. Jaina could understand why Sylvanas ruled the way she did, especially when she thought about the upcoming war.

And in the safety of her mind, Jaina could also appreciate a headache-free meeting.

Compared to this one, the meetings between the Alliance Leadership and most other meetings she had been in that had involved more than three people at a time, had generally dissolved into chaos relatively quickly.

On top of Sylvanas being the sole ruler of her people, she was also the only one with a real understanding of what was going on, and the only one with the plan.

From what Jaina had observed over the short time she had been with the Forsaken she now knew that Sylvanas hadn't shared much with her people. Her lieutenants knew the gist of everything, they knew the mission, they knew what they needed to do, and how to get into the Shadowlands, but they didn't know the consequences, they didn't know what would happen to the world should they fail.

Oh, Jaina was sure that they could imagine it, but it seemed that Sylvanas had remained tightlipped about the true scale of destruction that would sweep over the cosmos should they fail.

Not just Azeroth stood on the balance, but all of existence.

With the scales so stacked against them, Jaina could understand why Sylvanas approached all of it with a very uncompromising mindset and a harsh militaristic approach.

It was just the clear devotion in most of Forsaken's eyes, or at least when it came to those who were of the First Generation, that creeped her out a bit.

It reminded Jaina a bit too much of a cult, and she had to actively remind herself that Sylvanas while cold and goal-orientated didn't squander the lives of her people. Yes, she sacrificed them when necessary, but she obviously was above unnecessary slaughter of those she called her own, others were free game to her, but those that had sworn their loyalty to her, especially her Forsaken, were hers to use, but more importantly, also hers to protect.

"Duskweaver!" Sylvanas called out, startling Jaina in the process. The Banshee Queen glanced over to her and smirked slightly at her reaction, but the smirk disappeared the second, a ranger entered the room.

She was tall, not as tall as Sylvanas, and nowhere near as tall as the Death Lord with the same last name. But she was well built and had a commanding presence, even in the presence of her Queen.

But most of all Jaina got a distinct feeling that the elf was much older than she looked, not an unusual feeling, but Jaina rarely got this reaction around the younger generation of elves. Vereesa certainly didn't provoke such a feeling nor did Sylvanas, but most of the Kaldorei and the Death Lord in particular let her senses tingle slightly when they approached her. She wasn't a hundred percent sure why she could feel when someone was so much older than her.

She wondered if this was some kind of survival instinct, something that those with strong magical abilities use to protect themselves against those who could hold so much more knowledge and power based on their experience given through their age.

"Yes, my lady, you called?" The ranger bowed as she entered. Her ears twitched and a small smirk flittered over her features as she straightened up again. Her eyes drifted over to the Death Lord who was still leaning over the maps and papers.

"Hello, brother."

"Alina." He grumbled softly, the unholy echo of the Death Knights, one that was so different and yet so similar to the echo of the Banshees and the rest of the Forsaken, only barely appeared in his distracted tone of voice. She wondered what he was thinking about.

"Ranger Duskweaver?"

Alina turned her eyes back to Sylvanas. "Yes, my queen?"

"Anything important that you have been tasked with?"

"No, my lady. Just guard duty."

"Good, let one of the others fill your post. I want you to escort the Lady Proudmoore around the camp, show her the ropes, introduce her to those you feel necessary, and fill her in on anything she should know."

Alina nodded sharply. "Of course, anything else?"

"After you are done, come back here. I may have a mission for you."

"Very well my lady. If you would follow me lady Proudmoore."

"Would you mind waiting outside for a moment- Ranger Duskweaver, was it?"

"Yes, it was, Alina Duskweaver to be precise." The woman glanced towards her superior. "With your permission, my Queen."

"Granted."

Jaina made sure that Sylvanas had caught her eye before she glanced pointedly at the Death Lord. The Queen raised an eyebrow but a clearing of her throat told Jaina that she had understood her meaning.

"Champion."

He stepped away from the table and without another word followed Alina out of the tent.

The moment the tent flap fell shut behind him Sylvanas turned back towards her. "Now what is it?"

Jaina hesitated for a brief moment. "I just wanted to talk."

"Talk?"

"Yes, we haven't had the chance yet and there are some things I have to say."

"And what did you want to talk about?"

Jaina paused for a moment, there was a lot she wanted to-, no! There was a lot she had to say.

If not for the sake of their personal relationship, even though she honestly didn't know what state that was in at this point, and she was too afraid to approach the topic. Then at least for the sake of them winning against the Old Gods. Jaina didn't want to let anything fester between them, and she had said some things that she regretted.

"I- I wanted to apologize."

One slender eyebrow rose in interest. "Oh?"

"Yes, during our meeting I said some things, things I shouldn't have said. But what is worse is that I accused you of actions I really should have known better than to accuse you of. I know that you-."

But Sylvanas shook her head and that simple action was enough to cut her off mid-sentence. "No, you were right to say those things. Based on my actions of the past several years I haven't really given you any reason to think differently of me. After all, I played my part as the villain on purpose."

"I know, but that still didn't give me the right to accuse you of forcing undeath onto others. I really should know you better, especially about that."

"It has been a while since we have last seen each other, and even longer since we have last been close enough to talk in private."

"And that is my fault." When Jaina saw that Sylvanas was about to retort she held up her hand to stop her. The mage shook her head at the glare her action got her in response.

"No, we both know that I'm right. It was me who pushed you away after Theramore, even when you tried to seek me out more than once. I refused to listen to you, I refused to meet you over and over again. And when your letters stopped coming my first thought had been a relived finally."

Jaina winced when she saw the genuine hurt flash briefly across Sylvanas's face, but she soldiered on.

"I know now that you only wanted to help me," she muttered softly, "I know now that you only wanted to be there for me, but back then, so shortly after what had happened and with the wounds still so fresh…" Jaina sighed deeply as she trailed off, the memories that resurfaced of that time still felt especially raw when she spoke about that time.

They still hurt, deeply so, but they didn't hold the power to break her anymore.

"I refused to see what I didn't want to see. I wanted to blame someone, anyone really. I refused to see that I was also to blame for what happened, I had claimed Theramore to be a neutral city, but I allowed the Alliance to use it as a base for their operations in Kalimdor. I blamed Garrosh, I blamed Thrall, I blamed you, I blamed Varian, each of you I blamed for various things and reasons. But I refused to see that you of all people only wanted to be there for me."

Jaina paused for a moment and Sylvanas took that opportunity to step closer to her. The Queen didn't dare to touch her yet, the last few times Sylvanas had tried to initiate intimate contact between them, at least when Jaina hadn't been dying to that trident, her reactions had not been pretty.

"At the time I wanted to be angry, I wanted to hate, I wanted the world to hurt, just like I had been hurt by it, over and over again. I refused to see that the blame for Theramore and the events that followed rested on many shoulders, but not on yours. You had nothing to do with what happened there."

She shook her head, as a familiar pain crept up her neck, but it was so faint and more importantly impossible, that she knew that it had to be a phantom sensation of the constant headaches that had plagued her from the moment she had woken up after Theramore's destruction up until her death.

"I can't say for certain now, but I really can't remember having seen any of your Forsaken during the battle."

Sylvanas sighed, but Jaina was glad to see that her shoulders were beginning to relax slightly. The mage took the final step closer to the former ranger, but she also didn't try to touch her, not yet.

Even though she wanted to, but besides a few careful touches, during their argument at the beach and during the moments before the poisoned trident had claimed her life, they hadn't really touched much since long before Theramore. And now her undead heart yearned for it. A feeling Jaina hadn't felt in a long time.

Anger, despair, and guilt had consumed her heart and mind for the last few years, there had been no place for these kinds of wants or desires.

Sylvanas shook her head again, regret about the past playing across her features. "I was put into a difficult situation at the time. I obviously couldn't have sent none, Garrosh at the time already distrusted me enough as it was, but I ordered my men to do the bare minimum. While there were Forsaken present, I ensured that they wouldn't have made much of a difference in an open battle. But I swear to you, while I knew about the mana-bomb. I had no knowledge about the fact that Garrosh had planned to use the Focusing Iris to empower it, nor did I know before the battle that the idiot had been planning to use it against you and your city."

Sylvanas scoffed harshly, and her eyes flashed with both annoyance and astonishment.

"I mean who could have?" She growled loudly as her eyes flared a touch brighter than normal.

"Who could justify wasting such a valuable and rare weapon on such a small city. I didn't believe the first reports because I couldn't understand that Garrosh could have wasted the Horde's biggest trump card in the war against a relatively unimportant city. Believe me, I'm not trying to insult you or your memories of Theramore. But destroying it like Garrosh did made, and still makes no sense to me. Mostly because it gave the Horde almost no advantages in the war. A weapon like that is used for a city like Stormwind or Orgrimmar." In the end, her voice had changed into a harsh growl.

They both were silent for a moment and just when Jaina was about to speak did the Banshee Queen mumble something that she only caught because they were standing so close together. "And I also didn't want to believe the reports because I couldn't allow myself to think that you could be dead…"

Jaina smiled at the woman in front of her and finally if a bit tentatively reached out to take her hands between her own. She waited until Sylvanas' fingers curled around hers actively instead of just lying between her own before she squeezed them once.

"I know Sylvanas, I don't- I can't blame you anymore. My time in Thros has taught me much, I have come to terms with a lot of the past hurt I still carried with me, and even though I still hate Garrosh and his Horde for what he did, I know now that I have to stop hating so much. My guilt mixed with my wrath nearly destroyed me, and it could have destroyed the world. You were right when you said that I abandoned Azeroth when I chose to stay out of the active war effort against the Legion just because I couldn't stomach working with the Horde. I'm not arrogant enough to believe that I could have made much of a difference as an individual, but I also know the importance of the roles we are forced into as leaders. And that is one of my greatest failures, I wasn't there to lead when I should have been."

"It was unfair of me to say those things. I shouldn't have invalidated your pain, in an attempt to rile you up."

"It's all right, we both said things we shouldn't have."

Jaina looked down at their joined hands when she felt one of Sylvanas disentangle, she watched absentmindedly as the hand traveled higher until Sylvanas' fingers curled beneath her chin.

When she felt those fingers softly push at her head, she started to raise it slightly. Sylvanas touched her forehead to Jaina's the moment their eyes met again. Jaina sighed at the feeling of Sylvanas being so close, it had been a long time since the woman's skin had felt warm against her own. She closed her eyes when she felt Sylvanas shift slightly.

"May I kiss you."

She huffed, "You don't have to ask."

"Just ensuring that I still have perm-"

"Just shut up and kiss me."

"Very well, my lady."

Just as Jaina was about to do something drastic Sylvanas finally closed the distance between their lips. Jaina's eyes flew open at the almost forgotten sensation before they fluttered shut again.

Finally…

For the first time in over fifteen years, Jaina was able to feel Sylvanas' warm lips against hers. The last few times they had kissed after the Third War, Jaina had still been alive and Sylvanas had always felt cold, even against her own slightly colder, than normal skin.

Because they had no real need for air, they could enjoy the kiss for a bit longer than would have been healthy for the living but eventually, Sylvanas pulled away first, even if her actions seemed a tad reluctant.

Jaina tried to chase the sensation for a few moments, but when she heard and felt Sylvanas chuckle, she pulled back and opened her eyes again.

"I have missed this," Jaina murmured, and she had a feeling that Sylvanas knew exactly what she was talking about.

The Banshee Queen didn't say anything in response; she just pulled Jaina closer again, but instead of kissing her, she drew her in for a hug. Jaina smiled into Sylvanas' armor when she felt the elf's nose in her hair. After a few minutes, it became clear that Sylvanas wasn't in a hurry to release her any time soon, so Jaina just wound her own arms around the slightly taller woman.

"I was surprised that you so easily accepted that I would be the one to wear the Helmet," Jaina mumbled softly after a few more moments of comfortable silence between them.

She didn't want to spark another argument, the one in the forest had been enough, but she was still curious why Sylvanas had agreed so quickly.

Sylvanas shifted slightly before she answered, a subtle sign of her discomfort and Jaina almost wanted to take her words back when the older woman began to speak. "Don't take me wrong, I don't like it, and I think I have made that quite clear."

Jaina suppressed a giggle when Sylvanas' words brought the images of a dozen destroyed trees to the forefront of her mind.

"Stop that dalah'surfal. I'm trying to be serious."

"No, no you made it indeed quite clear." A few giggles escaped her much to Sylvanas' exasperation. "But I had still expected more resistance than that."

Sylvanas huffed. "Contrary to popular belief I'm not above reason even when I can't get what I want." Another huff. "Besides I have spent far too much time already arguing about this with others. I may hate it, but I can understand that this is for the best."

"I wish it could be different."

"Yes, but if all my wishes would come true, then Silvermoon would have never fallen, and I would have married you that coming summer."

Jaina shook her head. "Please, my parents would have never approved of a summer wedding. Kul Tirans marry in the spring or in the fall."

Sylvanas huffed playfully. "At least you aren't of Stromgarde or Alterac descent, I heard they married in the harshest parts of the winter."

"Strange traditions," Jaina muttered in agreement, she tried to keep a straight face, but the smile that was threatened to bloom over her face was thankfully hidden by Sylvanas' armor.

"Very strange even for you crazy humans." Sylvanas drawled seriously, or at least she would have if her shoulders hadn't started shaking mid-sentence.

Jaina sighed as the reality began to break through the bubble, they had made for themselves in the silence of the command tent. She didn't want to face reality, not yet. But she knew that they had to. Even if the short moment between them had been wonderful and freeing, the mage knew that they couldn't stay like this forever. She started to pull away but Sylvanas just drew her in tighter.

"Stay for just a few more minutes," Sylvanas mumbled into her hair.

Jaina sighed softly. "Your ranger is waiting."

"Alina can wait a little longer."

"Sylvanas," Jaina chided softly but the laugh in her voice betrayed her.

"Just stay."

Jaina borrowed her face further into Sylvanas' neck. "Alright," she mumbled. "A few more minutes won't hurt."

Sylvanas just relaxed further into the embrace, even though her arms wound even tighter around Jaina's body, unwilling to let her go just yet.

---

Jaina's head swam with names, faces, information about the structure of the Forsaken, both the military as well as the everyday aspect of a nation made entirely up of undead. There were so many things to consider that she had never thought about in context concerning the Forsaken. She remembered how the Alliance had spoken about them when news had first reached them all those years ago.

Most of the members of the Alliance had never paused for a second to even consider that just because the Forsaken weren't breathing, eating, or sleeping that they weren't alive in a sense. The free undead experienced emotions, the ability to think and to learn, they experienced loss and happiness, they felt guilt and exhilaration, they loved and they hated, and they were so incredibly aware of everything around them.

Just because their bodies were dead didn't mean that their spirit or their minds were. The culture of the Forsaken may be a bit bleak, and because of the coming war that could determine the end of the world it was probably even bleaker and much less complex than normal, but these people fought, they laughed, they bantered, they joked. If she closed her eyes and ignored the strange undertone in their voices, then she could almost believe that she was standing in a human encampment.

This camp was not standing still, the thousands upon thousands of warriors were busier, and probably more determined than ever to get everything done just right.

Countless Forsaken, were so busy packing things up, mostly weapons and other gear, as there was no real need for food or other proviant, that they barely spared Alina and her a second or even first glance.

They were packing tents away in one corner, putting others up in another, caring about their beasts of war and burden, making lists of who had already arrived, and who was still putting up a front for the rest of the world. Some were sharpening weapons, while others were mending armor. Some were sorting bombs away, while others were counting arrows and cross bolts.

This camp was just as alive as any military encampment Jaina had ever visited.

And the fact that the Alliance and she was also guilty of that, were so quick to write the Forsaken off as monsters just because they were undead, frightened Jaina at her core.

She tried not to think about it, but her own internalized prejudice, that she had always tried to keep under lock and key, was staring her in the face right now.

She may have not stopped loving Sylvanas, not even after she had learned that her lover had been raised into undead, but that didn't mean that she had been in any way shape, or form, ready to accept the Forsaken as a group. She was just as guilty as the Alliance as a whole when it came to forsaking them. And the fact that it had taken her dying, being raised herself, and witnessing this strange normal of the Forsaken first hand, to realize how wrong those prejudices were, was not lost on her.

As they were slowly traversing between the tents and waving between the countless of busy Forsaken, Alina pointed various out the faces, in the masses, of people that Jaina had thought that she would never see again, various previously dead Champions were busy preparing for the departure into the Shadowlands, some of those people had changed the world, mostly by dying while trying to save it.

Various warriors that had perished during the Cataclysm were now standing strong again, almost as if they hadn't been crushed by the cataclysmic events all over the world. Countless proud warriors of all races, who had either died fighting back against the crazed elements or had been in some cases just been at the wrong place at the wrong time when Deathwing had changed the world forever during his escape from Deepholm.

Men and women from all walks of life that had perished during the time of the Pandaria Conflicts were amongst them. So many that had perished during the initial landing, whose bodies had later been recovered and sent back to their homes to rest were now there, fighting once more, but this time not for the Alliance nor the Horde, but for the future of Azeroth.

She was so startled when she first saw glimpses of patched up tabards of the Kirin Tor Offensive that she had to take a few seconds to take everything around her in. As she looked around, she saw countless faces she instantly recognized. She had lost so many fighting against the Mogu and the Sunreaver Onslaught, and now she saw so many of their faces in the masses of undead. Those brave souls that had followed her in her mad quest against the Horde were now walking amongst the returned members of the Sunreaver Onslaught.

So many people that had once been heroes and Champions were walking amongst the common soldiers, mages, and archers. They all had one common enemy and even if she saw conflict brewing between former enemies every once in a while, most of them were clearly focused on a common goal. It startled Jaina, the unity she saw amongst the Forsaken, both old and new.

She could only guess what Sylvanas had shown those that she had raised in preparation for her war. Jaina knew that the First Generation and Second Generation followed Sylvanas either out of pure gratitude or because of earned loyalty over the years. But those "new" Forsaken those that had been raised in preparation for the coming conflict didn't have the same loyalty to Sylvanas personally so Jaina wondered why they had chosen to allow Sylvanas to raise them, and why were they fighting for someone who had at one point been their enemy. After all, half of the camp was composed of former members of the Alliance.

Jaina had taken the time to speak to a few of them and most had replied that they didn't care about Sylvanas, or about the Forsaken, but that they already died for their world once, and that they refuse to allow the Old Gods to destroy it so easily.

Alina had just laughed when she had heard Jaina ask those questions. And when Jaina had questioned her the woman had replied with a grin and a glint in her eyes that would have told Jaina, if her magical senses hadn't done so already, that Alina was much older than she looked.

"Death changes your perception of things a great deal. You were never truly dead; you closed your eyes alive and then opened them as an undead. You never experienced the in-between like most of these people did."

"But neither did you…"

"No, but Sylvanas already held my loyalty, even before she freed us from that monster's control, and most of the older Forsaken follow her for that." Alina's voice was grave now that she was speaking about the bleak past of the Forsaken, her eyes traveled over the people and the tents around them. She shook her head once, almost as if she had been searching for something amongst the masses but hadn't been able to find it before her eyes returned to Jaina's.

"All those who are Forsaken, but weren't truly forsaken, they follow Sylvanas because death changed them. They saw the true death, and whatever that may look like it changed them. Whatever happens, after we fully cross that line gave them enough of a perspective to realize what we are fighting for. It does not matter why they chose to return and to fight against an impossible large foe, the only thing that matters is that they are here now."

"I guess."

"Don't put so much emphasis on why someone does something, care about what they do and how they do it. Thoughts don't hurt, actions do. Thoughts and opinions alone don't change the world, only actions do. And only actions will save our world. I don't care about their opinions on my Queen, to them, Sylvanas isn't the woman who saved them from an endless existence of slavery, to them she isn't the woman who gave them a place in the world. Sylvanas made it clear when she raised them what was on the line. Most of them accepted because of that alone. They may hate her for some reason, but they still chose to follow her into this conflict, and that I can respect. Not many of the living would do the same."

Jaina didn't say anything, but in the privacy of her mind she could admit freely that Alina was most likely right, she knew many people who would never follow Sylvanas regardless of what was on the line. Maybe the ranger was right and death truly changed someone so much that they were willing to freely serve under a former enemy.

---

Alina obviously chose to spare her form showing her the entirety of the Forsaken part of the camp, Jaina had a feeling that they had neither the time nor the desire to see it all. The camp was simply too massive, but instead of leading her directly back towards Sylvanas' command tent that they could already see in the distance, Alina instead walked into a different direction.

"I thought we were done?"

"We are, but I also quickly wanted to show you the Death Knight part of the camp. It won't take long, and just a quick in and out, Zanris really doesn't like outsiders in his camp. But I think that you should at least see a few parts of it."

"Very well, you are the guide."

But they didn't get very far into the camp, the two guards at the border just nodded at them when they bypassed them, but that wasn't what blocked their path. A large commotion was taking place in what appeared to be a clearing between the masses of tents. A large group of Death Knights were standing in a circle cheering at something happening in the middle of it.

And Alina once again surprised Jaina, instead of walking around it, and going deeper into the camp, or turning around to go back the way they came from, Alina beckoned for her to follow her into the circle.

"Come, let's see what the commotion is all about."

Jaina raised an eyebrow, but before she could say anything in response the ranger disappeared into the crowd of armor. And because she really didn't fancy losing her guide amidst the masses of Death Knights Jaina quickly followed her into the circle. It took a bit of pushing and shoving but the mage finally reached the other side of the cheering masses. Alina appeared out of thin air right beside her, Jaina turned to glare at her but the ranger had her eyes focused on something in front of them.

Jaina turned to look and nearly gasped when she saw what was going on. The Death Lord and an unknown Death Knight were circling each other. They both had their blades drawn. The Death Lord's offhand sword was still sheathed in its scabbard. He was twirling his blade in his right hand and his stance was relaxed as he was seemingly goading his opponent into attacking him.

The other Death Knight, a human from the stature charged at the elf with a battle cry. His much larger sword would have normally carved clean through the thin blade of the elven sword. But Zanris's sword held true when the man began to block and parry each blow with obvious ease. The nonchalant attitude of the Death Knight leader compared to the aggressive and unhinged behavior of his opponent made the fight, if one could call it that, almost appear one-sided.

Even though the Champion never once went into the offensive he still was the obvious better fighter.

His blocks and perries were precise and clean, with no overextension of reach, or strength, he always just used as much as he needed to counter an attack.

Meanwhile, the human was attacking wildly, with wide swings of his larger sword, trying to find a way around the Death Lord's very good defenses. His swings got wilder and wilder, more uncoordinated by the second, and for the first time since the war against the Lich King, Jaina saw a Death Knight falter so obviously.

The infamous warriors of the equally infamous order had a reputation that even when they were facing certain death that they never really lost either their cool detached exterior or their openly aggressive bloodthirsty attitude.

But the human Death Knight appeared almost exhausted. His swings got slower and slower and finally, he stood in front of the Death Lord, seemingly panting for air he didn't need.

And then the elf finally acted.

In a move that shocked every onlooker, he threw his sword onto the ice-covered ground where said ice caused the sword to slide away from him towards the onlookers. But all their eyes were fixed on the two fighters so that nobody really noticed where the sword landed.

Zanris took one, two, three quick steps towards the other Death Knight, and then he drew his right hand back, and as quicky as lightning knocked his opponent with one punch against his plate helmeted head out.

The human fell flat onto his back and didn't move again. The onlookers cheered and clapped, and just as quickly as the fight had ended did the Death Knights return to their various duties, leaving the downed Death Knight laying in the dirt. It took Jaina a few moments to look away from the scene, she had never heard of an untrained Death Knight, once the Knights of the Ebon Blade had been the best of the best in the Lich King's army, still easily replaceable but every one of them was a highly trained killer.

She had never heard of one that fought so sloppy, yeah some of them were not very bright, a few of them had proved themselves to be mindless idiots as soon as their free will had returned to them.

But a Death Knight that couldn't fight, it almost seemed preposterous.

The mage shifted her feet slightly on the harsh, frozen ground, and startled slightly when her right boot collided with something hard...

Looking down at the object that had drawn her attention she realized that it was the Champion's sword. She reached down to pick it up, but just a moment before her fingers were able to touch the hilt, Alina's hand shot forward and gripped her wrist in a vice-like grip.

The elf shook her head. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Jaina glanced up at the elf and frowned.

When Alina was sure that Jaina wouldn't be trying to touch the weapon again, she released the mage's wrist and reached for the sword herself.

"And why is that so?" Jaina asked with a raised eyebrow once they both had straightened back up again.

"Because this-" Alina gestured to the sword in her hand as she gave it an expert twirl, "is an ancient family heirloom, and when I say ancient, I mean it. Supposedly it goes back to before the Shattering. Anyway, the sword is so heavily enchanted that the results aren't pretty when someone who does not share our blood tries to touch its grip."

Jaina frowned as her eyes traced the sword, she focused on it, but noticed that she couldn't even sense any kinds of spells on it, she couldn't even sense the runes on it. If she hadn't stared straight at them, she wouldn't have been able to tell that the sword had been engraved. Her honed affinity for magic should have really told her that something was up with this sword, but she was unable to find anything magical around it.

She told Alina as such.

The elf grinned sharply. "Because you aren't supposed to, this is ancient magic, strong but barely noticeable."

"So only your family members can wield it?"

"Supposedly yes, all those who are part of our bloodline can touch it, but I doubt that most would actually be able to use it, ever since my brother regained his freedom and claimed the sword as his own, he has changed it, and its enchantments. I doubt that someone of the living would actually be able to use it safely. The runes that have been engraved depend heavily on the Death Magic that flows through our bodies."

Both women looked up from their talk when Zanris stepped up to them. The Deathlord wordlessly reached for his weapon, and Alina passed it to him. As soon as the Death Knight touched the sword's hilt the runes began to hiss softly. A frosty aura encompassed the weapon. He quickly sheathed it again and then cooked his head.

"What are you two doing?"

"I'm showing lady Proudmoore around the camp. And before you ask, our Queen ordered me to do so."

He shook his head in response. "I know, I was there, but I don't really care, just get out of my camp."

"We were done here anyway."

Jaina regarded the tall elf with another look, as they began to walk away. He watched them go, his eyes, the only visible parts of his face behind his helmet, regarded them, from what Jaina could tell, thoughtfully.

Just as they reached the tents that bordered the small open part of the camp, they heard his voice call out towards them once more.

"On a second note, there is something the lady Proudmoore should see."

"And what is that?" Jaina asked as they both stopped and turned back around to face him.

He didn't answer just tilted his head towards a path between the dark tents that led deeper into the encampment.

"I think we both know that I speak truly when I say that some things are for specific ears and eyes only."

Jaina glanced at her escort.

"My brother is right, it would be better to just follow him, if it wasn't important then he wouldn't bother."

"Very well."

As the three undead slowly traversed between the tents, Jaina glanced around and watched as the Death Knights worked around her, some were sharpening their weapons, others were taking care of their armor, every once in a while, she saw a few of them sparring, most of the time in pairs, or in rarer cases in small groups.

All in all, the camp was orderly, and organized, even more so than the Forsaken part of the camp had been.

The closer they traveled to the core of the encampment the more the Death Knights seemed to increase in rank and status.

Jaina wasn't sure but she swore that she got glimpses at the former High Inquisitor Sally Whitemane, or for one brief moment her eyes connected with those of Highlord Darion Mograine. Most of the Death Knights barely acknowledged their presence and those who did quickly returned to their work.

The Death Lord led them deeper and deeper between the large mass of tents.

"I didn't even know that there were so many Death Knights left." She commented after a while, she was still unsure what to make of the Death Lord, with his blatant hatred for her, but she was brimming with curiosity.

"The Forsaken weren't the only ones that have spent the last three years preparing for this moment. Normally we really can't make more of us, we lack the power and the necromantic strength, but during the conflict against the Legion, the Lich King granted me the power to raise a few certain individuals. Afterward, we managed to convince him to create even more. I don't care if he knows what for but he agreed."

"Don't you fear that he may have his own agenda, we both know that Bolvar has changed?"

"I never met that man before our war against the Lich King, but it doesn't really matter if he does indeed has his own agenda, his time has already run out. He will soon be dead, and we will benefit from the Death Knights I now have under my command."

"Couldn't he control them, or could his death affect them in any way?"

At those questions, the man stopped walking for a moment as he seemed to ponder something. "To be entirely honest I'm not sure," after a moment he finally shook his head, seemingly coming to a conclusion. "we ensured that there was no bond between him and the newly raised knights, and we double and triple checked any kinds of tricks he could use, so I doubt it. And I don't think that his death will affect them negatively, the first Lich King's death didn't affect those Death Knights who had still been under his control, except for freeing them and giving them their wills back."

The three resumed walking

"I hope that you are right," Jaina muttered.

She wasn't honestly in the mood to fight a large group of Death Knights, she had seen their powers over the years multiple times, and each experience was one that was hard to forget.

"Well we definitely need all and any kind of advantage against the Four, and a large army of Death Knights is definitely an advantage. I saw the damage you and your followers can do, brother. I'm glad that I haven't been forced to fight your kind since the late days of the war against the Lich King." Alina grinned beneath her hood as she spoke.

All of them were quiet for a while as they traversed through the camp, the sounds of the camp changing as they traveled deeper and deeper into the camp of the Death Knights. Blue fire replaced the normal orange one that was placed around the rest of the camp. The raised voices of the working Death Knights changed to the quiet hum of hushed conversation in the tents, to the near-silent but still audible hiss of the runic weapons all around the camp.

"Death Lord?" She asked after a few moments.

He sighed, a soft sound of barely restrained annoyance. "Yes, lady Proudmoore?"

"May I ask what this was earlier?"

"What are you referring to?"

"You duel against that man?"

The man laughed. "I'm honestly surprised that you didn't recognize his armor."

"Why should I?"

"That was Thassarian, the first Death Knight to officially join the Alliance."

"Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but it looked a bit too serious to be just a mock battle or a sparring match. At least from his side."

He chuckled harshly. "You are indeed a bit forward. The matters of the Ebon Blade are none of you concern frost witch, but I can understand your curiosity. He has been a thorn in my side but recently he has become a real problem."

"Is this because you killed Deathweaver?" Alina asked with a raised eyebrow, but her tone of voice implied that she knew the answer and that she was only asking to drag the conversation along. Jaina reminded herself to thank the ranger later.

"Yes..." The older elf sighed.

"He is still angry about that?"

"He is a fool, Alina." Another sigh. "Those kinds of people never change. Koltira betrayed the Horde, and our Queen for this fool, and if there is one thing, I'm still certain about Koltira is that while he was an idealistic idiot, he didn't give his loyalty just to anybody. I was sure from the beginning that the Alliance probably had just as many problems as we had when it came to those two."

Jaina glanced between the two. "I'm lost, what is going on?"

"Very well, I see that we have now truly piqued your curiosity and if there is one thing, I've learned from raising two of my siblings, is that mages never stop until they have satisfied their curiosity. Now listen, I'm only going to explain this once. Thassarian son of Killoren and Koltira Deathweaver, a human and a Quel'dorei respectively were both killed by Arthas the Death Knight very early during his conquest. He raised them both into two of his first Death Knights. They somehow formed a bond; I don't know how or when and to be honest I don't really care either. This bond held strong even after they were freed from the Lich King's control years later. But because of the conflict between the Alliance and the Horde they got separated. After the war was over, and the conflict between the Factions had escalated again, they met once more. In Andorhal in the Plague Lands." He paused for a moment to let that all sink in before he continued.

"There they fought on opposite sides for the first time in years. Koltira had command of the Forsaken forces there and he botched the mission. Sylvanas had sent me there undercover to ensure that we would finally take the outpost. Unknowingly to me at first, she also went and we eventually discovered that Koltira wouldn't be able to fight, never mind actually kill his friend. Sylvanas branded him a traitor and took him as a prisoner. Mercifully in my eyes, had it come to me to pass judgment then he would have died that day. Anyway, over the next few years, Koltira was our Queen's prisoner, he had been held in the Undercity, and during the war against the Legion, Thassarian requested that we free him.

"Obviously, my loyalty belonged and still belongs to Sylvanas. I only took the mantle of Death Lord because I knew that having the sole command of the Ebon Blade for the coming conflict against the four Old Ones could be useful. I told him that I would think about it. But instead of doing so, I informed Sylvanas immediately. She told me to go ahead with it, making the path easier for us as she ordered most of the guards away. She basically gave us a free pass."

"Really?"

"Yes, but not for what you think." Alina sniggered.

"We had just left the sewers behind and Koltira was free for the first time in years that a shadow arrow entered his neck clean through."

"Sylvanas and several of her Dark Rangers, and nearly a dozen Royal Guards stepped out of the shadows. I will savor the faces those two made until the end of times, Koltira's surprise as he felt his final death approaching as the shadows of her arrow slowly crushed his body. And Thassarian's anger and horror. It was a good day." He chuckled darkly as he told his story.

"I told Thassarian that should he tell anyone what happened that I would personally ensure that he would never meet Koltira again, that he would never enter the Shadowlands. He remained tight-lipped for the rest of the war, but he has attempted to undermine me several times, and he has gotten much braver recently."

"I'm surprised that you haven't killed him yet." Alina commented as they stepped around the "sleeping" form of an undead gryphon.

"I will soon, he won't enter the Shadowlands with us that is for sure. I can't trust that backstabber not to betray us should we meet anyone else he values more than his oaths."

"And what was that earlier?"

"While he has been attempting to undermine me, I have ordered my most loyal to rile him up, to get him angry, to make mistakes, to say the wrong things in front of the wrong people, to challenge me as often as he wants. I'm going to make him look like a fool a few times, just like I did earlier. And then when he has lost most of the meager support that he still has I'm going to kill him during one of those challenges. And nobody will object, he will die having achieved nothing. And with the knowledge that he has also been cursed by the Runeblade and the Helmet of Domination, I know that he will probably regret ever entering the Shadowlands at least for as long as we deal with the Old Gods. Afterward when Sylvanas's deal with her benefactor goes into effect, well... neither of them is worth sparring one more second of thought on. I'm done with both of their antics. Koltira betrayed the Horde and more importantly, he betrayed the Forsaken and our Queen with his actions, or better yet with his lack of actions. He is a traitor, maybe not a coward but he certainly made a lot of wrong choices during both his life and his undeath. And Thassarian is clinging to a ghost that has been dead for nearly four years now. If he wants to die so badly then I will gladly grant him his wish."

Jaina frowned at the nonchalantly in his voice. "Isn't that a bit cruel?"

He turned his head towards her. "What does the Alliance do with traitors?" He asked, no emotion in his echoing voice.

"Trial, but in nearly all cases it's the block for them."

"And Kul Tiras?"

Jaina hesitated but by the knowing glint in those icy eyes, she knew that he must have heard of her return to her homeland.

"Death."

"Exactly, I can't trust Thassarian to have my back because he has been willing to betray us once already, he has tried to undermine me and to make me look like a fool in front of my Knights. I can't trust him to have my back in the Shadowlands, we need every advantage we may get, but that doesn't mean that the risks outweigh the rewards in his case. I killed traitors during my time as Ranger, many more during my time as Ranger-Patriarch, and countless others during my service to the Forsaken and the Banshee Queen. I know what it means to betray your homeland, your people, and your comrades against your will..." The man trailed off but Jaina understood what he meant.

"I don't like it."

"If I could I would just send him to the farthest outpost the Ebon Blade has as a punishment and be done with him, but we are taking nearly each and every Knight with us, the handful that remains behind, only stays to protect those who can't follow us."

"What do you mean?"

He tilted his head slightly and glanced back at his sister.

"The Alliance doesn't know?"

"One of the Forsaken's best-kept secrets."

And then he did something she hadn't expected, he laughed, not a sarcastic or hollow sound, but the sound that burst from his chest sounded both surprised and, dare she think, happy. "Oh, then their SI:7 is worse than I had previously thought."

Alina also grinned sharply, but Jaina didn't get what was supposed to be so funny.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about children, Proudmoore. Forsaken children."

She felt her eyes widen against her will and saw the triumph in his as she croaked out. "Children?"

"Did you think that your precious prince sparred the children, when he slaughtered his people and destroyed his kingdom, or when he marched onto Silvermoon? Did you think that he never raised the young nor the old?"

Horror spread through every inch of Jaina's own recently raised body. The horror and disgust were so strong within her that she just barely realized the insult and insinuation in his words. It was a scenario she had never been forced to think about. But now that the Death Lord presented it to her so bluntly, she suddenly understood.

"How many?" She asked with a voice so faint that she was unsure if he had been able to hear her.

He shook his head. "Probably not as many as you are thinking about. Most of their bodies were too weak to contain the necromantic powers in the first place, or they never regained their minds after the Lich King lost control over them. Only a couple hundred of the Forsaken had been civilians in the end. And not even a hundred of those are children. A few of my Death Knights are staying behind to protect them from the backlash of Sylvanas's actions over the past several years, together with a small platoon of strong and loyal Forsaken. Sylvanas worked out a deal with the Lord Regent of Silvermoon, should something happen to her, or most of the Forsaken, that he would care for those of the Forsaken that are helpless. They are going to be transported to Silvermoon an hour before we pass into the Shadowlands."

Jaina was still feeling slightly speechless, technically, and logically she should have realized that the Forsaken too had a civilian population and that there could be children amongst them.

"Any more questions?"

"No."

Yes…

She had so many, many more questions, but she felt as if now wasn't the time nor the place to voice them.

"Good now come, we are nearly there."

It took her a few meters of walking before she finally regained enough of her composure to ask. "Where exactly are we going?"

"Like I said I have something to show you."

It didn't take the three of them long until they finally reached their destination. It took her a few moments but then Jaina recognized it as a necropolis teleporter. A group of six Death Knights were stationed around it. They all saluted when the three came closer. Zanris exchanged a few quick words with a Death Knight of Quel'dorei descend and then he beckoned for Jaina and her escort to follow him onto the teleporter.

"Ever used one of those?" He asked, and the grin in his voice was obvious.

"No." She answered flatly.

He chuckled darkly. "Well, you are about to. Because our destination is up there." He pointed to the smallest necropolis floating above the camp.

"Don't worry, while they don't feel very pleasant for the undead either, at least they don't hurt us as they do with the living."

Jaina raised an eyebrow when she heard that. "They hurt the living?"

Alina nodded sharply. "No wounds or anything, but the living experience sharp pain when they use them. But for us, they are just unpleasant, like a freefall even though you aren't falling."

She shook her head. "This doesn-"

"Are you two coming?" Zanris called out impatiently.

Jaina glared at the Death Lord when he gestured for her to step onto the teleporter. His muttered. "Ladies first." Didn't make her feel any better.

The moment both of her feet touched the glowing surface of the teleporter she felt a sharp tug in her gut, a bright light in front of her eyes. A fraction of a second later she felt the disorientating sensation of falling Alina had told her about, but then just as quick as it had begun it was over.

Jaina stumbled off another platform the moment her sight returned and found herself somewhere else entirely. The necropolis she found herself in was dark, and ominous, and it was apparently really made up entirely of saronite. Two Death Knights near a large door drew their swords when they saw her. But they both relaxed when the teleporter behind her flared into existence once more, and then a final time.

"Death Lord." The two men put their weapons away and saluted in a similar way the six down by the teleporter had done.

"At ease," Zanris ordered the two.

Alina stepped up next to her and gripped her by the upper arm.

"Are you alright?" She murmured to her, more softly than Jaina would have expected.

"I'm fine."

"The first time is the worst for everyone, just be glad that you aren't alive anymore, that would have been much worse. I stil-" Whatever Alina wanted to say next would remain a mystery as Zanris interrupted her mid-sentence.

"If you two are done yet?" The Death Lord growled impatiently.

Without much more prompting he began to lead them deeper and deeper into the dark necropolis. The entire structure around them was mostly silent as a grave, save for their footsteps that echoed through the halls. But soon Jaina could begin to hear another sound mix into the sound of their footsteps. It was almost rhythmic. The sound grew louder and louder and finally at the end of a long hallway they found its source.

The room at the end of the hallway was large but mostly empty.

Only in the center of the room were three men. They were standing in a small circle around… something.

Even from the distance Jaina could see and hear them hammering away at whatever was in front of them. Jaina looked around the room, besides the three men working in the center she found no one else. At least until Alina softly pushed her elbow into her side and beckoned with her chin upwards.

Jaina glanced up at the ceiling of the room, but found nothing, at least at first…

After a few more moments of careful observation, a pair of red eyes appeared in the darkness. Horrible familiar red eyes. The eyes of a Dark Ranger. And then they had the gall to wink at her when her eyes widened in realization.

If Sylvanas' elite was stationed here then whatever the three were working on had to be extremely important. Now that she was thinking about it, the entire Necropolis had been empty except for this room, and the room with the teleporter. What could be so important, that it was so heavily guarded in the middle of the camp of an army so large, and so hidden?

The Death Lord motioned for her to come closer.

When she came to a stop right next to him, she could see that the three smiths were working on a long piece of metal. Even from the distance she could feel its strange power, it was familiar, but more in the sense of something she knew but hadn't seen or felt in a while. Her eyes traced over the glowing metal and soon noticed that the entire thing was covered in runes.

And despite the heat that should have come of the glowing metal, the air around the smithy only felt colder instead. The air around this metal felt colder than even the unnatural icy winds of Northrend that she was still able to feel despite her undeath. It was even colder than her own icy core, decades of frost magic had changed her magical reserves to be more adaptable to frost magic, not unable to cast other spells, but frost came easiest to her, and most of the time even before her death she had run slightly colder than most humans.

The fact that the metal was so cold even though it was glowing from a supposed heat, clued her in pretty quickly at what she was looking at.

"Is that-?"

The old Champion nodded. "Yes. Those are the last remnants. While nearly all of the other artifacts that have been granted to certain Champions during the most recent conflict against the Legion lost their power to try to heal the planet from Sargeras' corruption, I hid the twin blades, and they retained their icy strength. Our best smiths are currently reshaping the last remnants of the original blade that had been mixed with inferior metal to forge the Twin Blades, into something new. You can guess who it is for?"

"I- I can't…" She could, but she didn't want to admit it yet. Despite having been brave during her confrontation with Sylvanas after she declared her intentions, she was still horrible unsure about her own decision. This would just make it real, and she wasn't sure yet if she was ready for it all to become real.

"The helmet and the blade are connected on a level we don't truly understand, I purged the blade of most of its evil influence while I used them against the Legion, and separated them from most of the Lich King's control, and yet he was still able to grant me visions through them, and to speak to me through them. When you wear the Helmet and wield those pieces then I believe that it will make you even stronger."

"What if it will just make it easier for the Helmet to corrupt me?"

He shook his head. "I doubt it. Like I said the remnants of the blade are cleansed, and I changed much about them over the years. I doubt that there is still the influence of the former Lich King, of Ner'zhul and the princeling, in there. I haven't felt either of them in a long time, and I'm very attuned to their presences."

"But can we truly take that risk?"

He didn't say anything for a few nonexistent heartbeats. When he spoke again his voice was graver than she had ever heard before. "Should we fail at killing the Old Gods, it won't matter if we have a rogue Lich Queen on our hands or not. If we don't defeat them, then all will be lost anyway. I may not have seen the vision Sylvanas saw but I have fought against the Old Gods, and their corruption, one too many times not to know what should await us if we fail. I know that I prefer a dead world ruled by you over a world that has become corrupted by those that are responsible for possible every anguish the people of Azeroth have experienced since the beginning. I prefer death over insanity. I lost my mind once; I prefer to die with it intact."

She swallowed harshly, and by the way, his ears tilted slightly he must have heard her gulp. "I have to think about it."

"Understandable. But in the meantime, would you prefer a second staff or something else?"

"Huh?"

He nodded towards the three men working. "My smiths haven't gotten the order yet into what they should reforge the pieces because we were unsure about who would wield the Helmet until earlier today. I told them to wait before they reforged it into either a sword or into a bow, but now that you are going to be the one to wield the Helmet…"

Jaina took a moment to think about it, but given that she already had a powerful staff, "A sword."

"Really?"

"Yes, I know how to wield one, and I think it would be better if I have an alternative should my magic fail me one day."

"Huh."

"You sound surprised."

"I hadn't expected you to think so practically. But I guess we have to wait and see if you can truly back up your claim."

---

The last week had been… intense to say the least.

Sylvanas had known from the moment she had ordered her Val'kyr to raise Jaina that it would make waves in the world. She had known that this would not be something that she would be able to keep secret or even hide for more than a couple of hours, a day at most. Had this had happened months or even just a few weeks ago, then she knew that she couldn't have allowed herself to raise Jaina.

At least not without putting her plans into serious jeopardy.

And the fate world depended on those plans, Sylvanas couldn't allow her feelings and their past to risk destroying everything she has worked on these past few years.

Sylvanas hated herself for it but she knew that if she had been forced to make that choice just a couple of weeks earlier then she would have been forced to let Jaina stay dead. Raising her would have, and technically still could destroy everything she had worked for these last couple of years.

"Do you really think that would work? I don't think that the Old Gods would be that naïve."

Areiel Summerspear leaned heavily against the table in front of her as she spoke, both of her palms were pressed flat against the rough surface, while her eyes flitted all over the map. Sylvanas watched wordlessly, while the older elf drummed her fingers against the table. Not even death had managed to beat the powerful urge to fidget, out of her.

Zanris, Areiel, Delaryn, and Sylvanas had spent the last couple of hours designing plans on how to best deal with what was most likely the strongest line of defense the Old Gods had amassed. The four of them were standing around a large map, one that showed the Shadowlands, or at least the parts where the Old Gods had gotten their claws into.

Various figures and models had been placed in strategic positions all over it. They had shifted through every possible scenario on how to best deal with the Pillars that protected the Old Gods.

Areiel took one of the models away from the table in front of her. Sylvanas didn't pay her any mind as the ranger captain studied the small wooden piece, she just let her eyes wander once more over the map. Sixteen wooden pillars and four miniature buildings had been placed on it, the four small buildings represented the four strongholds that protected the Old Gods, their seat of power in the Shadowlands, apparently a direct copy from the temples they had had when their Empire had been at its strongest.

While the wooden buildings had been kept simple for practicality, the replicas of the Pillars were nearly exact copies of the real sixteen Pillars. They had to know what they were up against, any weakness of those pillars that they could exploit could turn the tide of battle.

Zanris next to her shook his head while shifting a few papers around. "It's not naivety we are talking about, but arrogance. They see themselves and everything that belongs to them as untouchable."

"So, you think that we could just walk up to these pillars and destroy them? Just like that?" Areiel asked as she set the wooden piece back from onto the table from where she had taken it.

"They are guarded, most likely heavily, but I don't think that they are as magically protected as the Seals were. The pillars are after all still within direct reach of the Old Gods, while the Seals were on an entirely different plane of existence. Of course the more we destroy, the stronger their defenses are going to become, but-"

"-but if we attack every single Pillar at the same time, they won't have time to muster a defense," Delaryn concluded.

Zanris turned to the recently raised elf. "Exactly. They won't expect us to go for the Pillars first thing after arriving. And normally our forces would focus on pushing towards their strongholds, while smaller groups, consisting of Champions and soldiers alike would attempt to secure the Pillars. But we can't afford to be predictable, not against the Old Gods. By targeting the Pillars first, we take away one of their greatest weapons."

"That still doesn't change the fact that we can't afford to divide our forces like that. The Pillars are placed all over these parts of the Shadowlands." Sylvanas interjected herself once more into the conversation.

Sylvanas flat out refused to divide her forces like that, it would lead them open to all kinds of dangers, and not just from the Old Gods themselves or their forces. They had no idea what the continued presence of the Old Gods had done to the Shadowlands. While it was true that the dead, and most of the undead were untouchable by the corruptive effects of the Old Gods, these four still had thousands upon thousands of years to do all kinds of damage. The Warchief blocked the other three out, as they once more began to talk another strategy out.

She was so focused on the map and her thoughts that she just barely heard the tell-tale sound of a portal forming into existence just a few meters away from them. But Sylvanas ears still twitched when she noticed that the other three elves had fallen silent. She felt as Zanris stiffened beside her, and heard the near-silent hiss of him drawing his swords out of their sheaths.

Out of the corners of her eyes, she could also see that both Areiel and Delaryn had also drawn their bows the moment they had noticed the portal forming. But the Banshee Queen barely reacted, trusting her Rangers and Champion to handle this, her eyes never strayed too far away from the map in front of her.

There was something they were still missing, even after months of planning.

The question was just, what were they overlooking?

After a few moments of tense silence which was only shattered by the low static of the portal, she heard at least two people, rangers by the sounds of their steps, a human male, and an elven woman, if her ears didn't deceive her, step through the portal. Zanris next to her relaxed oh so slightly when he finally saw who had stepped through the portal, both of his swords returned to their sheaths.

Sylvanas glanced up at that and frowned slightly when she noticed something unusual about her human Champion's appearance. He looked strangely… rattled as if he had just hastily thrown his coat over his armor before he had stepped through the portal. The other newcomer, Anya looked unusually rattled as well.

She raised an eyebrow when Nathanos hastily bowed before her.

"Speak, Champion."

"My Queen, Saurfang's rebellion, and the Alliance are marching towards Orgrimmar as we speak."

Sylvanas growled as she stepped away from the table, to pace a few meters away from the others. This was not good, she had estimated for them to at least need a few more weeks. What could have-

Her eyes narrowed when it clicked. "It seems as if the disappearance of the Lord Admiral a few days ago, has spurred them into action far quicker than I had predicted."

This was exactly what she had hoped to avoid.

"How far are they away from the gates?" Areiel asked.

He turned to her. "Not too far, they landed near the Echo Isles."

"Good," Sylvanas nodded, this could still be salvageable, "let them erect their camps and war machines. Send a handful of loyal Champions out to carry for the necessary tasks. Should it come to a real battle I want to be prepared, there is always the chance that Saurfang won't call out the Mak'gora, or that the Alliance feels a little bit too trigger happy." She drawled the last part, and the others nodded.

"Of course, my Queen."

Sylvanas turned her head slightly until she was looking directly at her older Champion, he had removed his helmet, while they had studied the various maps and battle plans. He was frowning as his eyes traced over her face, they both knew that he didn't approve of her plan. He didn't care about the Mak'gora. He had the utmost faith in her and knew that she could easily beat the old orc in a duel. But the fact that doing so would most likely put her into close proximity to the forces of the Alliance, without any real back up, made him antsy.

After a moment of consideration, he rolled his shoulders and sighed. Clearly defeated but unwilling to challenge her about this. "Where do you need me? With them or with you?"

She nodded towards the still-open portal. "Today we end this farce, one way or another. Go with Nathanos to Orgrimmar, and eliminate the traitors within the city, and take Anya with you. I'll be there soon."

He nodded at her and picked up his helmet. Within a few minutes both Champions had left through the still-open portal. Anya hot on their heels.

She turned away from the portal and looked towards the horizon that stretched out in the distance.

"Delaryn, Areiel," she addressed the two remaining rangers, "rally all the other lieutenants, and give the orders for the last remaining of the Forsaken forces to gather at the meeting points."

Both rangers saluted.

"Anything else, Dark Lady?" Delaryn asked.

"We are moving up our time plan. Tell the others that I'm planning to leave in three days. Those who aren't with the Fleet by then will be left behind. We can't afford to be stopped now."

---

"Sylvanas Windrunner! I challenge Mak'gora!"

---

Sylvanas knelt down in front of Saurfang's downed figure, barely a meter separated the two combatants. The old orc's breathing was labored and the Warchief watched as the blood dripped freely from the four cuts. They weren't just oozing with his blood but also with a little bit of her special brand of magic. She smirked internally, even if those wounds hadn't been life-threatening on their own already, her magic would ensure that her opponent would die within the hour.

He was already dead, he just didn't know it yet.

Sylvanas would not let him survive this. She had let him get away with far too much already, but the old warrior had finally outlived his usefulness once and for all.

She held her daggers loosely in her hands as her eyes connected with his, and the previous internal smirk appeared on her face. Taunting the old orc further and further. What had once driven her parents, her older sister, her mentor, and her teachers mad was now used to throw her enemies off balance.

Giving off an appearance of laziness and disinterest, basically just showing your opponent that they weren't really worth your time, was just as life-saving for a Ranger, as knowing how to fletch an arrow or repair a bow in the field.

After all the best way for a seasoned Ranger to kill their enemies, and that was even more true up close, was to do so either before they became aware of their killer in the first place, or by making them angry.

And not being taken seriously hurt most warriors more than a real wound ever could.

Sylvanas leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "Did you really think that you could outsmart me, boy?" Before drawing back slightly to look him in the eyes, eyes that had already turned glossy. He had a few minutes at most.

And yet he still snarled at her, and for a moment Sylvanas was brought back in time. Back to the long months, where she had fought these monsters that had invaded her homeland, had killed her mother, her younger brother, and so many of her friends and fellow rangers and defenders of their home.

She remembered the burned trees around her and scorched earth beneath her feet. She had killed those monsters merciless then. But the desperation to survive, to find allies in this harsh world, after she and the Forsaken had shattered the shackles that had bound them, had made her blind to what those Orcs really were.

Once a traitor, always a traitor.

She should have never trusted him.

"If I had really wanted Baine dead, didn't you think for one moment that I would have killed him the moment he betrayed me?"

"W- what?" His voice was raspy and filled with disbelief but still clear enough that Sylvanas knew that Saurfang was still fully aware of what was happening.

Good, he had been right when he had said that she wanted him to suffer, even just for a few moments. She wanted him to know that he had achieved nothing with all of this, just more senseless killing.

She smirked at him, and her eyes flashed deviously as she leaned a little bit closer to the downed fool. "Did it never occur to you that if I had really wanted to use Derek Proudmoore to take down the Proudmoores that I would have revealed my plan in front of a fool like Baine?"

He gave no answer except for another pained groan as her magic swirled around his wounds.

She leaned closer once more. "I have led my Rangers into battle long before your grandparents were even conceived. And even though I held the title of Ranger General for just a few short decades, I was my mother's third in command for far longer than that. And if there is something that I truly can't stand then it is traitors! Arthas Menethil may have killed and raised me, but it was Dar'Khan Drathir's actions that led to that moment in the first place." She spat both of their names, the old hatred in her caused her eyes to flash even brighter.

She paused for a moment to let that realization set into place.

"I swore to myself after the fiasco that had followed Varimathras' and Putress' little coup, that I would never again be beaten by a rat of a traitor. If I had not wanted it to happen, then this farce of a rebellion would have never been possible in the first place. You have achieved nothing with this Saurfang." She grinned sharply when his face contorted in anger.

"If you had just listened to my orders, or confronted me personally, many lives could have been spared, but no. You thought you knew better, well I don't make a history out of leaving those who betray me alive, so…" She trailed off as she stood back up again.

His face was still full of anger and the dullness in his eyes had cleared up a bit, but she knew that despite the bravado that there wasn't really a lot of fight left in him anymore.

Sylvanas watched silently as he heaved himself back to his feet. Her eyes traveled over the boy kings borrowed sword that was clutched in Saurfang's hands. It should have surprised her that the boy had given his priceless artifact away, but it hadn't, it had just… disappointed her. She almost missed his father; he at the very least had known a lost cause when he had seen one. Anduin's naïve world view and the trust he placed so easily in those around him would get the young king killed one day.

Saurfang growled as he towered over her as if that would intimidate her, she had fought beings far more powerful than a simple old warlord of an orc. She smirked and twirled her daggers lazily, and this…

This was the final straw for Saurfang, with a roar he charged once more at her.

---

AN: And done, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it…

Like always I gotta have to address those who keep me motivated, even if it took me a lot longer over the past few months to reply to those comments, I just did it today and I already apologized in my answers, so the only thing left to say is thanks once again. Each comment fills me with so much joy and really keeps me going when it comes to writing this story.

Arieko (chapter4(but really chapter 3, 1 is just the map and the summary)): Heh, yeah sorry about my horrible upload rhythm. Glad that you still despite this love the story and this chapter. These reviews definitely keep me motivated.

Jaybird9876: Who knows, people are lazy when it comes to writing reviews, I'm also not the best when it comes to writing reviews for stories, I find fantastic, because my mind is already at the next story I could enjoy, and so I often forget to actually write one. But I'm really happy that you like this story and my rewritten chapter. Glad that you like my details, tbh I'm sometimes a bit self-conscious when it comes to them because I never know if it isn't too heavy on the details.

Amelia: Glad that you like it, I hope that you liked this installment (chapter6) of the story. I wish I could update more but my brain sadly doesn't work like that.

metadork: Oh, that is a high compliment, even with Blizzard's decline in recent years. Glad that there is another corset admirer around here ^^

Ducelet: Oh, that comment makes me extremely happy, glad that you love it so much, and I try to keep it up. Like I said I'm not planning on stopping writing any time soon, even if my update schedule is all over the place.

can'wait(chapter4(but really chapter 3, 1 is just the map and the summary)): Yes it is going to be interesting, thanks for the review, I appreciate them so much. A real motivator.

What had originally been only a few chapters long, my first real multichapter start into this fandom has by now turned into a behemoth of a story, where I already have a prequel, and two sequels planned. So, if I keep updating at this pace I'm going to be done around the middle of this century.

Sry again that it once again too so long, I had this chapter nearly done over a month ago, but back then this was only 9k words long, and then I was unable to write even one sentence, and three days ago I sat down and forced myself to finish this blasted chapter so that I would at least publish once more before returning to school. Chapter 7 is already roughly halfway done, so there is that at least. But that doesn't mean anything when it comes to my write ethic.

Quick storytime:

A few days ago, I was browsing in either a forum or a Reddit post, I can't remember which, but what I remember is that they were discussing the Shadowlands Cinematic Trailer where Sylvanas defeats Bolvar.

And the topic they were discussing was the "question" where the army you see shortly after Sylvanas arrives before the Frozen Throne went.

As if it isn't obviously implied that Sylvanas beat that large group of undead singlehandedly and then absolutely wrecked Bolvar afterward. And then still had the energy to rip a hole into the sky and between dimensions.

I just found this hilarious, so I wanted to share it here. Because the denial runs deep in some cases…

By the way, I briefly entertained bringing the Wolfercycle from the Horde Drustvar questline into this.

Omake:

"Very strange even for you crazy humans." Sylvanas drawled seriously, or at least she would have if her shoulders hadn't started shaking mid-sentence.

"Crazy?"

"Well, some of the things your young race has come up are justifiably called crazy."

"The gnomes are worse," Jaina grumbled in response.

"That they are, but I guess the goblins amongst the Horde aren't much better. Have you ever heard of a Wolfercycle?"

At that Jaina entangled herself slightly to looked Sylvanas into the eyes. She raised an eyebrow and asked with a slightly higher voice. "A wh-what?!"

"A wolfercycle."

"That doesn't answer anything!"

But because that scene was supposed to be a bit more tender and heartwarming instead of funny, I cut it out, but I still wanted to share it here.

Well wish me luck for my upcoming semester, I'm gonna need it. Especially with Corona ramping up again in my country, it's gonna be both fun and exhausting…

So, maybe leave a constructive review down below. Maybe even a fav, or follow the story as that would really make my day.

Thank you very much, this is ScouterFight and I'm out.