The old man carried Sapphire down into the basement. It was larger than the building led her to believe. It looked like the inside of a crypt as far as Sapphire could tell. Thick cut stone walls seemed to maze around endlessly. Water dripped overhead, which made Sapphire suspect they were under the canals.
He took her to a dank room with nothing but alcoves filled with coffins. Sapphire wanted to scream when he opened one and dumped her into it, but she couldn't make a sound or move anything, not even a finger. He slammed the coffin lid shut. Darkness greeted her.
Sapphire was not afraid of the dark. She was not afraid of confined spaces either. But this inability to even move scared her. She couldn't do anything to defend herself. There was some hope. By the time the man came back, it might have worn off and she would go for his throat.
Time passed. Sapphire seemed to fall asleep at one point, because she was woken up abruptly by voices.
At first the voices were in the distance, though they slowly grew in volume. At first she could not understand what they were saying, but eventually they came close enough for her to hear.
"-Menethil. I know its her. I saw her a few times in Icecrown Citadel." This voice was of the old man. Now Sapphire knew what this was about. He was a cultist, who had seen her before.
The other voice, deep and masculine, smoothly replied. "I have no interest in some guttersnipe with bleached hair who doesn't get enough sun. Even if it were the princess, she's no use to us. The Master is dead."
"She is the princess. I am positive. While the Master is gone, she is not. She is his heir!"
The other man laughed darkly.
"Don't be ridiculous. The Scourge is taken over by a usurper and a spoiled brat could never retake a simple necropolis, let alone the Citadel. The Scourge is ruined."
Sapphire could not argue with that assessment. The Scourge had been ruined, but the usurper was news to her. Someone else ruled Icecrown now? Her father had made no mentions of that.
At this new information, Sapphire grew distracted and she missed a large chunk of the cultists' conversation. When it turned back to her however, she gave it all of her horrified attention.
"-some useless princess. Scrawny muscles and small organs are better than nothing."
The old man sputtered. "I...I can't harvest her! That wouldn't be right!"
There was the sound of a hand hitting something soft. There was a cry of pain, then whimpering.
"She is nothing but meat. I am your new Master. There is no king or princess down here!" The other darker man snarled.
There was silence, then the older man mumbled something. Angry footsteps thundered away.
Sapphire felt her body starting to respond to her. Her fingers twitched. She desperately tried to move more, but the poison was not wearing off fast. The coffin she lay in started to move. She was jostled around before whoever was moving the coffin found a place to put it.
Light blinded her when the lid opened.
The old necromancer reached in and started to pull her limp body out.
"I'm sorry. Ritualist Kiefer has ordered me to kill you. I will make it as painless as possible," He said apologetically.
Sapphire desperately tried to move, but all she could was weakly reach out toward the man. He easily carried her out of the holding room. Sapphire quickly grew frustrated and enraged at her own feebleness and immobility.
The necromancer took her to another room. Everything looked familiar to Sapphire. Meat hooks hung from the ceilings with chains. Bloodied metal tables lined the wall. Various kinds of knives and other sharp implements were neatly lined along a velvet line box. Other cultists worked at tables. One of them proceeded to hang up a bloodied, stump of a leg.
A human woman, clad in traditional cultist robes, turned around and scowled.
"Seriously, that is what you lured in? What, you couldn't manage catching anything useful?"
As soon as the man put Sapphire on the table, she tried to escape but he easily strapped her down. Panic started to set into Sapphire. Not only was she about to be killed and carved up, but it was by a traitor. If he knew Arthas was still alive, he would not dare harm her. None of them would. She tried to speak, but her voice cracked.
Her body responded more to her but it was too late. She thrashed about in her straps while the old man got a syringe and filled it with something in a bottle.
She was going to die.
"No, don't!" She forced out. The necromancer looked at her, dismayed.
"Struggling is of no use. Apologies for what I have to do but-"
"My father isn't dead!" She interrupted.
The necromancer hesitated, then looked at the others. They had turned at that statement, but the woman who had spoken previously quickly scoffed.
"She clearly has mental illness of some variety."
The old man started to sweat. "She's princess Sapphire Menethil. What...what if the Master survived?"
"Oh please! Fuck the Lich King. He's dead and gone."
Now Sapphire grew even angrier. It was one thing to not believe her. It was another to be blasphemous. No real cultist would dare, but one consumed by hunger for power might.
It seemed that the more loyal elderly man was faltering so this woman decided she would do the deed instead. She knocked the syringe out of the necromancers hand and pulled out her own blades.
"It's more fun when they scream."
The woman sliced part of Sapphire's arm. Darkness seemed to edge the corners of Sapphire's vision. Her entire body started to feel a kind of deep pressure exploding inside of her. Bones started to snap loudly. Her teeth started to feel as if someone was pulling them out. It felt like her ribs were breaking like when Gorak Tul had thrown her, only it was every single rib this time. Sapphire screamed in agony. She strained against the leather restraints...and proceeded to tear them.
The two cultists immediately backed away.
"What is that?" The old man said, terrified. Sapphire saw horror in their eyes but she barely noticed. Pain exploded along her back as she sat up. Her vision grew darker and started to blur. The woman raised up a knife toward her.
Metal flashed. No thoughts entered Sapphire's mind. She did not wonder why her body felt so different or why there were suddenly blackened claws at the ends of her furred paws. She opened her mouth and roared. There were screams and soon Sapphire's mouth filled with blood. The old man stumbled away. Sapphire snarled and tore her claws out of the woman. She lunged after the old man and grabbed his arm, digging her teeth into his flesh.
He screamed. Sapphire lifted her head, pulling his arm with her. She tugged it as hard as she could and felt flesh tearing. The entire arm started to rip off. Blood spurted in great quantities.
Sapphire continued to rip the the arm completely off. The man shrieked, flailing about and missing one arm. He started sobbing as he crawled out of the room. Sapphire repositioned the now severed arm in her mouth and proceeded to swallow it whole.
That evening Arthas stared up toward the clock tower from the doorstep of Lethumo's apartment. Only minutes before, it had rang six times. One more than what Sapphire had promised she would be home by. He did not admit to himself that he was concerned. Something at the back of his mind told him that she would not just forget about the time.
All that had happened in the last few months changed their relationship. Perfect, it was not. But Arthas never expected or wanted perfect. Functional would suffice. So long as he kept his temper in check, he could keep her anxiety and fear to a minimum. At the current point in time, Sapphire had no reason for running away. At least, not without some kind of inciting incident. He had kept his distance for that very reason. Everything seemed...fine.
Before, Lethumo mentioned her finding a new friend, some elf girl. Perhaps the two were busy having fun, whatever that entailed. Sapphire's only other close interaction with a child of her age had been the wolf boy, a brief and abnormal encounter. Normal children played together. She and the other girl were just holed up in some hideout, in the other girl's attic or up a tree.
With a frustrated growl, Arthas turned and went inside. Lethumo was inside his room, talking to himself. Arthas did not pay much attention to what the elf was doing.
A small scratching sound caught his attention. Arthas looked back at the front door. The scratching stopped briefly, but then became more urgent. A bark followed. One that Arthas recognized. He lunged toward the door and practically ripped it off its hinges.
Rot stood there, paw raised to scratch the door more. He immediately dropped the paw, barking frantically. He sprinted into the apartment and hysterically ran circles. Arthas grabbed him with both hands and brought him to his face.
"Calm down, mutt. Where's Sapphire?"
The dog started yipping. Once Arthas got the picture, he dropped the dog. He stomped over to Lethumo's room and swung the door open.
"Lethumo!"
The night elf, who had been writing at his desk, jumped up in alarm. He tripped over some clothes that he had left on the floor. Lethumo fell over.
"What, what!" He exclaimed, face turning dark purple in embarrassment.
"Rot says Sapphire was kidnapped. Come on."
Lethumo gasped. "Kidnapped? Wait, you want me to go?"
Arthas hissed. "If you don't want to, you don't have to."
He let go of the night elf, annoyed. He should not have even mentioned it to Lethumo. The elf was useless. Arthas could not afford to waste any more time. He turned on his heel and left the room. A cacophony of struggling noises followed as Lethumo attempted to get to his feet and follow Arthas.
Rot sprinted to the doorway.
"Wait, I'm coming!" Lethumo cried out.
Arthas did not pay him any attention. He grabbed his sword and left the apartment. Rot galloped down the street, not even waiting on Arthas. The man quickly caught up to the dog. If only Rot were just a little older, with longer legs.
Surprisingly, Rot led Arthas to the Cathedral District along the canals. Arthas kept his sword hidden under his cloak, lest any guard see it and become concerned. Rot eventually stopped at a rather weather worn but inhabitable house. Arthas did not hesitate going up the stairs.
A loud crack reverberated along the canals when Arthas kicked down the door. It split in two. Rot immediately jumped over the splinters and barked furiously. The entry room was simple, with nothing but a sofa and a table with papers strewn along it. What was not present was Sapphire nor the one who had taken her.
Rot lifted his nose into the air, sniffing. Arthas stalked along the other rooms, checking each one for any sign of life. Nothing. By the time Arthas cleared the house, Lethumo was gingerly stepping over the wooden remains of the door.
Arthas kicked the sofa in frustration. Most of the house was smothered in dust, except for the main floor. It was spotless. The papers on the table provided nothing. Sapphire was not in the house. He had taken her elsewhere without a trace.
Rot scratched at a bookshelf, whining. Arthas wanted to ignore him. He went off to leave the house but Rot barked, clearly irritated. He dug his little claws into the stone face. Arthas turned to look at the dog, concerned. Something about the bookshelf was off.
He didn't hesitate to look for any switches or hidden buttons. Arthas took hold of the bookshelf and tore it from the wall, revealing a staircase descending below.
Lethumo peered in. "How ominous. I'll just wait up here and-"
Arthas started to descend but at the elf's comment, turned to glare at him. The night elf sighed. Despite his clear discomfort, Lethumo followed. Almost as soon as they started going down, the screaming started. Arthas unsheathed his sword and quickened his pace. They went down a corridor of aged stone. Water dripped from the ceiling, but Arthas ignored it.
An old man came stumbling out of a room, crying and screaming in horror. The most noticeable thing about him was that his arm was freshly missing. Blood poured out of him, staining his robes and the stone walls as he brushed up against them. His widened eyes focused on Arthas and Lethumo.
"Run!" He sobbed, seconds before a growl echoed behind him.
From the darkness, a creature emerged. A creature Arthas had never encountered or seen before. The only remote comparison he could draw was it looked similar to the wolves of Greenstalker's pack, but even that comparison was a stretch. It looked more human than them. Its back was too curved and its legs too long. Everything about it seemed wrong. No flesh covered its canine like skull. Blood dripped from its fanged mouth. Small velveted antlers protruded from the back of the skull. In the empty eye sockets of the skull glowed two dark blue pinpricks of light.
Even from a distance, it was not that large. Bigger than Arthas perhaps, but much skinnier. Its ribs seemed to bulge out of its own skin, giving the creature a starved look about it. White fur covered its neck, shoulders, back and front legs. The stomach and hind quarters had nothing but bare flesh. The flesh looked like it belonged to that of a very old corpse, dark and mottled. Spiky protrusions extended along its spine. The creature had been focused on the old man, but now it saw Arthas and Lethumo. It stood up on its hind legs and roared.
Lethumo screamed and ran into the opposite direction. Arthas did not back down. He summoned up dark unholy magic and condensed it into a bolt which he shot at the creature. Shadowy magic whizzed through the air and hit the creature straight into its chest...and dissipated like mist. The creature looked down briefly at its chest, then back at Arthas. It hissed.
Necromantic magic had zero affects on the creature. Arthas was impressed. The animal roared again and sprinted full speed at him. He immediately blocked off the hallway between the two of them with sheets of diamond hard ice. The creature crashed headfirst into the ice and slumped to the ground. At first Arthas expected its skull to be shattered open, but the animal's skull did not even show a crack. It shook its head and snarled.
"You're a tough bastard," Arthas commented. The creature tried clawing at the ice to no avail.
Then, it looked up at the dripping stone ceiling. It reached up with its long clawed paw and tried to pry a stone loose. Not only strong, but intelligent. It was going to either dig around the ice or use the rock to crack the ice. Unfortunately for Arthas, because he did not know how to kill it. He tried to use other magics through the ice wall. None even seemed to faze the creature, not even when he tried to coagulate its blood in its veins. If he were to kill it, it would have to be the old fashioned way.
Arthas felt it was better to retreat at this time while it was still trying to loosen the rocks. He retreated down back where Lethumo had gone.
"Sweet Elune please protect me-" Lethumo sobbed out.
He was hiding in a room full of coffins. Rot stood guard over the night elf. He barked at Arthas's entrance. The elf sighed in relief.
"Please tell me you killed it!" He cried out. Arthas shook his head and the night elf immediately started praying, this time in Darnassian. In the distance, there were deep thuds. It was trying to get through the ice.