SOVEREIGN by J CAE
A/N:
For those of you who don't like the previous chapter, it was actually my enemy who wrote that to make me look bad O_o. Wasn't me...(Everyone else: Yeah right.) All right. Sorry about being brain-dead. I'm still currently under the torture of my profs--homework, papers and sleeplessness. I'll have 3 essays due in the next couple weeks and then my finals, so don't be alarmed if you don't hear from me. I wrote this long, long chapter on Saturday night/Sunday afternoon and haven't much time to edit, but at least I tried *sigh*.
Grrrr!!!! All that crap with technology. I was forced to download Netscape 7.1 for some reason, and now my computer is really, really slow. Damn technology!! And BTW, if you have/are planning to email me about my fanfics or for whatever reason, please indicate that you know me on ff.net in the subject (and preferably who you are as well). Please forgive me if I've never answered your email--that doesn't mean I have something against you. It's just that I get tons of junk mail everyday and I delete emails that are not in my address book.
Anyhow, THANK YOU, guys, for your suggestions and support. Last chapter, people. Here we go:
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CHAPTER SIXTEEN: DEATHLESS
The afternoon sun glistened the calm harbour surface, making the sea glow in silvery splendour. The black sails of the Forsaken's ships billowed in the sea breezes, and the air was filled with the clashes of weapons and the foul stench of blood.
Through the noise, there came a sudden smash. One of the five wooden docks collapsed under the weight of far too many warriors and crashed into the sea, causing huge splashes that rippled through the harbour. The Naga slew the lich king's floundering forces before they could get back ashore.
Had Illidan listened closely, he would have heard a distant thunder pulsing through the ocean, singing its tale of doom as it closed upon land.
But he had not.
"What do I owe you, lich king?" his double blades clattered in angry fists, reflecting wavered colours of the sky.
"I will tell you," Ner'zhul did not conceal mockery in his tone. "Before reviving you, I have made a pact with the Dark Lady--I gave her an important ingredient which she used in the spell. What it did was to retain your memories. You remember your own name because of that--and therefore, you owe me your memories."
Illidan frowned, but Ner'zhul just laughed, "You need not scowl like that, demon hunter. In fact, you have done the same to Sylvanas. You wanted to use her as a source of magic power--and therefore, you have forced King Kael'thas to accept your aid to rescue her from the demonlord's lair. There is an interesting saying which I find true enough--what you do would always come back twice."
"What good would it do you if I give you back my memories?" Illidan dropped his tone.
"Not much," Ner'zhul shrugged and mimicked the demon hunter's tone as he confronted Sylvanas a few months ago. "But you owe it to me."
"I owe you nothing--it was you who took my life in the first place," the demon hunter snapped, even though it was senseless to reason with someone who had long lost his sanity.
"And if I had not and you were allowed to destroy me and help Kil'jaeden claim Lordaeron and all its denizens, what do you think would happen?" the lich king reminded him. "Would the demonlord have appreciated your aid? Or would he betray the pact he made with you and have you chained eternally like a slave? I have saved you from that fate, haven't I?"
"My fate is not of your concern," Illidan hissed through gritted teeth.
"And neither was Sylvanas's when she imprisoned in the demonlord's torture chamber."
The demon hunter was about to say something when a throbbing pain coiled around his head. He almost dropped his weapons to clutch at his own head as Ner'zhul forced open his inner eyes to see...
And suddenly, he was the young traveller again who accompanied his brother to Cenarius's grove to seek the demigod's wisdom. In his mind, he saw Tyrande again--when they first met at the shrine of Elune. Oh, how young and beautiful she was in her white cleric's robes. She was holding a basin of flower-scented water--the essence of Elune. She washed his bloodstained hands and tired feet, cleansed him of his weariness and anger before leading him to the prayer room. She was nameless to him then, but he still remembered how she tormented him with her every move. She prayed for him, her soft features untroubled by the dilemma of the dangerous world around her--in one with her goddess. He remembered the way her fair blue hair fell down to her thighs--and he had been peeking like a boy in puberty.
And he knew that he was hopelessly in love with her.
"Illidan!" he remembered his brother approaching him to pull him away, berating him in his usual solemn tone, "It is very unbecoming to stare at a priestess like that!"
Tyrande knew of his feelings for her all along--she just chose to ignore them. And when he finally summoned up his courage to profess his feelings for her, she told him she had chosen his brother instead. It was painful, this betrayal, but strangely sweet as well. He wished he could forget, but he did not want to. He did not want to lose his memories of the only woman he ever loved.
No one could take Tyrande from him--even if she was merely memories. He would make sure of it with his life if he had to.
With a fierce cry, Illidan swung his double blades at Ner'zhul who agilely took a step back and blocked the attacks with Frostmourne. The venomous runeblade clashed with the curved blades, sparking off orange glints of magic fire. As the two held still in a contest of strength and will, Illidan remembered how his enemy moved when they combated upon the Ice Crown. He remembered how his minor error--a breath drawn at the wrong moment, had cost him dearly. He would not make the same mistake again. He would allow Ner'zhul to make the first attack. He would defend and wait for a chance to strike. He would control his impulse. He would control...
"Illidan!"
Kael's voice.
No, do not distract me now, he berated the elven king in his mind. I don't need your help. I need to kill the bastard on my own.
Ner'zhul called for four abominations to keep Kael from reaching Illidan's side--he never took his mind off his opponent who had obviously been doing some re-evaluation of his failure. The demon hunter was more patient, was more cautious and harder to break--therefore he would need to be more careful--or craftier in order to win this battle.
At the same instance an ethereal fire shield flared around Illidan, Ner'zhul leapt forward and swept his blade across his opponent's neck. Illidan heard the runeblade hum and took a step back. He did not return the attack and just parried as Frostmourne continued to sing all around him. He would wait for the moment when Ner'zhul should make a mistake...
The satyrs rushed forward to help their master, their blades clashing against the Scourge's weapons. Somewhere lost in the thousands of battling warriors, Kael and the Blood Elves chanted arcane spells, and Sylvanas and her Forsaken fought against their enemies. But Illidan hardly knew they existed. His mind was focused on only one thing.
As his enemy's blow surged towards his chest, he trapped the runeblade between his curve blades and twisted forcefully, sending Ner'zhul who refused to relinquish his weapon somersaulting to the floor. He swung his weapon at the lich king who just about to get up on his feet, opening a cut on the throat. Ner'zhul rolled away, apparently not affected by the supposedly vital wound and stood up, ready for combat again.
Frostmourne darkened with an eerie black aura--a siphon spell was ready and at the command of its master.
"Illidan!" A warning.
"Lord Illidan!"
"Master!"
And Ner'zhul spoke, "Just return to me this little bit of memory. And then I'll consider your debt paid."
Illidan could feel the magic searing as the runeblade impaled itself through his right wrist.
He knew he was back in that cell where he had been chained for ten thousand years. Another woman appeared, faceless--he was already a demon hunter then, and had carried out the initiation ritual which threw him into permanent darkness. But he remembered her voice well. He remembered the daily sound of her iron keys and the constant jingling of her armour that was forever pressed against her body. He pictured himself, with disgust, as a dog with little sense that would bark and roll over for her if she treated him a little better for that day.
But all she had ever given him was the cracking of a whip in the dark.
He struggled in his chains but refused to cry out as the skin on his back split open. She never felt his pain--no, she enjoyed his pain. He knew she was sighted--since she often stated what a pity it was that a handsome man such as himself should throw away his future by betraying Kaldorei. She would sometimes trip him intentionally with his chains and make him fall flat on the filthy floor. Then, she would crush his face with the steel heel of her boot.
He did not particularly want to remember her name, so he forced himself to forget. But somehow he could not rid of the sickening feeling whenever he remembered her mocking laugh.
Perhaps that was called hate.
An eternity of imprisonment had not only made him feel like he was losing grip on sanity. He was certain the warden who was locked with him had lost her mind completely as well.
But he remembered once catching her by surprise. Fed up with years of her torturing, he figured he would have nothing to lose if he tested his luck. One day, while she was charring his flesh with a red-hot tong, he yanked off her helmet and punched her in the head, hurting his own hand--though it was more than satisfying. The tong fell out of her hands, and she collapsed unconscious in his arms...he could not help it...
He touched her face, tracing the contours. Her skin was smooth--save for a scar that ran over her left eye, possibly created by a blade. Was her left eye blind as well? He could not suppress the sudden sympathy that entered his heart...
...and when she woke later, she found herself lying naked at a corner of his cell, and he was crouching beside her, toying with a piece of her armour in hand. Though the chains held him fast to the walls, he smiled, enjoying his small revenge--his freedom.
She just gave a cry of grief and horror and darted away from him--and before she did so, unfortunately for him, she remembered to slam the prison doors shut.
...and the next day, Califax was sent to guard him. Califax did not torture him. He did not humiliate him and just guarded his cell wordlessly.
The warden did not return.
But the memories of her were beginning to fade, too, in Illidan's mind.
Suddenly, he could not remember ever having met her before.
Varimathras closed his giant but gentle claw around Illidan's bleeding wrist and dislodged it from the runeblade. The demon hunter jolted back to reality, as though he was awakened from disturbing dreams. He did not remember what happened, he just felt so disoriented...
"Lord Illidan!" he felt the satyrs' beast-like hands tucked him to safety. "Are you well?"
"I am fine!" the demon hunter snapped. "What's the matter with you all?" The wound was hurting so much, and he could not even remember why. Anyhow such was only a minor injury on the battlefield, and he could still fight.
"No, you are not well, Illidan," Varimathras only said--under the Dark Lady's telepathy, the dreadlord's tone was so much like that of hers.
"I'm all right, damn you!" the demon hunter struggled to free himself from the retaining grip of his own servitors.
"Leave Ner'zhul to us before you have yourself killed!" the dreadlord said, moving forward to exchange blows with the lich king.
"Yes, that is right," Ner'zhul put in as he evaded the dreadlord's attack. "Your debt is paid. I have no more quarrels with you. You are free to leave now."
"What are you saying?" Illidan's face turned livid. "What did you do to me?"
Scourge warriors rushed to surround Varimathras, allowing Ner'zhul to turn and head towards the blood elven king--his second debtor.
Kael knew what he owed Ner'zhul--it was what the lich king wanted in return he did not know.
"King Kael'thas," Ner'zhul approached him with the runeblade stained with Illidan's fresh blood. "I have sent Anub'arak to your aid and pulled Sylvanas out from the Demonlord's keep when she was captured. I have banished you to the afterlife to save you from a Naga assassin's arrow. And I have indirectly saved the life of your child."
Kael tensed at the last statement--whatever Ner'zhul had in mind that involved his unborn child would be out of the question. He would give his life to prevent anyone from laying a finger on his baby. And suddenly, bitterness crept into his mind as he thought, "Alanen, I have not understood how desperate you were until now."
"As payment for these favours I have done you, I shall demand from you your service--" Ner'zhul paused to study Kael's expression, "in undeath."
The elf thought he felt a cold chill fluttering his robes--or was it just his own heart growing cold? In undeath? What madness! There was no point in negotiating when Ner'zhul obviously was not open to bargain. All he could try and do now was to fight and stay alive, no matter how slim chances were.
"No, don't say it's not fair," the lich king scorned. "You accepted Anub'arak's aid with gratitude--and he had given up his undeath."
Accepted Anub'arak's aid with gratitude. That was true enough. Kael took a few seconds to choose his response. "It is a fair deal. If I lose to you, you will have me as your servant in undeath--but only under one condition that you would do my child no harm."
"When you have become my servant," Ner'zhul assured him, "Your child would become my family. I shall do no such degenerated thing as to hurt my own family."
"That's very comforting," Sylvanas grunted. Kael shot her a worried look. She was standing far away from the both of them, leaning against a meat wagon. Her Forsaken warriors guarded her though their forces seemed to thin by the minute. Her face became so pallid that that of a corpse's had more life in it. "Unfortunately you shall have no such privilege. Should Kael fall, the first thing I'd do is to kill the child."
Any other time, Kael would have argued about it--but with her in her state and him in his circumstance, it only seemed sensible. She was too weak now to defeat Ner'zhul. If he could not kill the lich king, Sylvanas would not survive either. He came to realize, then, how heavy a burden had been placed upon his shoulders. The lives of two persons he loved most would be lost forever if he should fail...
The tension was cut through when a furious Sapphiron took a sudden dive to attack Ner'zhul. Almost reflexively, the lich king tossed Frostmourne into the undead dragon's shrieking mouth. The runeblade sailed right through the mutilated shell--thanks to Illidan and the satyrs' knife work earlier, the frayed ligaments and decaying tendons that held the frost wyrm together became severed. Sapphiron exploded into a million pieces. Bones and flesh rained on the battlefield, hammering down on both the lich king and the allies' forces. Both Ner'zhul and Sylvanas willed their troops to move out of the way, but the exploding bones were just too unpredictable. Kael heard one of his lieutenants' scream when a piece of shattered bone embedded itself into his skull.
And when the undead dragon crumbled completely into dust, Frostmourne came spinning down from the heavens, landing at its wielder's feet. Ner'zhul closed his grip around the hilt of the cursed blade and muttered apologetically, "Sapphiron owed me his loyalty. I was going to give him a chance to make up to it. But too late now."
It took Kael and his allies a few moments to recover from their shock. Ner'zhul had destroyed a frost wyrm with one single blow. Be it that Sapphiron was injured. One single blow! Unimaginable!
The Forsaken moved forth to position themselves around Ner'zhul. Kael knew Sylvanas was trying her best to provide him with aid while fighting for her own survival. Ner'zhul could have chosen to challenge her first and finish her off. From what Kael had seen, he was more than capable of doing so. But he did not. What did he have in mind? To exhaust Sylvanas's power and make her die from fatigue? To scorn her before he tore her apart piece by piece?
No time to wonder. Raising his arms in the air, Kael took a step back and conjured a spell--a dark phoenix birthed from unknown darkness. The mutated but wonderfully beautiful creature still tied him down to his complicated emotions--Vashj's death, Sylvanas's condition, his child, the peril he was facing...he willed the majestic phoenix to obey him, and dark fire flared upon the battleground.
He had been thinking of Alanen and his daughter--of Elma mostly. The power that coursed through his spine belonged to the two of them--a self-regenerating dark energy that would never tire, a stoic power recharged by grief and rage. He wondered how this magnificent and incredible force could have stirred in the veins of humans so volatile. How could a little girl of six years have possessed that power?
His opponent weaved a spell of death on the blade of his weapon--he could see if coming, but he knew he would have no way of avoiding it. Corrosive green liquid sank itself into his flesh, sizzling and burning as it went deeper, eating their way towards his soul. Gritting his teeth in stoic defiance, Kael commanded the phoenix to defend him while he cast a massive spell of fire against his deadly rival.
On the other side of the battlefield near the coastline, a tsunami came crashing towards the shore, taking with it two other docks. More troops fell into the harbour, devoured by the suddenly raging sea. Unnatural giant waves washed over land, crushing wagons, trees and structures, carrying with it more warriors on both sides of the fight.
The scent of sea salt and magic suspended in the air--a third force. Who could be powerful enough to will the sea?
Varimathras looked around to estimate the damage, and in horror, he realized that..."Sylvanas! Damn it!"
The Dark Lady had been washed away with the water--the meat wagons against which she had been leaning was shattered into many pieces.
"Find her!" the dreadlord cried, wading through the retreating waves. "Find Sylvanas, Forsaken! Scilla!"
The Naga only screamed in reply as the sea stirred into a furious whirlpool, "Azshara, save us!"
Fight on, Forsaken. Fight on until there is no breath left in me.
Sylvanas knew she was sinking, sinking, sinking...to the heart of cold hell. The vortex was spinning too rapidly, and there was no hope of escaping. She did not try to fight the water invading into her pained lungs. She realized she was going to die there in the ever-twisting whirlpool with hundreds and hundreds others that were sucked in with her...
But suddenly, hands caught her and kept her from sinking any further--four pairs of hands as cold as ice. The grip of death was not ominous. Rather it was gentle and calming, and she welcomed it.
Four beautiful faces of elven females hovered around her--their skins looked almost transparent, and their night blue long hair flowed and enfolded her, cradling her, protecting her. A name came upon the tip of her tongue, but the four pressed their fingers to their lips in unison, so she said naught.
Instead, she lounged in their embrace, trustingly, and slipped into sweet restful sleep, oblivious as death beckoned her...
The ships Illidan bought tossed and floundered in the raging sea, their sails flapping noisily as they were thrown about. But not one of them sank nor crashed against the shore as though something or someone was protecting them magically. Dark clouds rolled in and the sky darkened dramatically and rain began pouring. It was as if some dark deity had arrived and did not like what he saw.
Illidan stood facing the sea with his arms outstretched, his hair whipping across his face in the wind. He tried to neutralize the sea--he could sense it, that this storm was not natural. It was conjured by some very potent and otherworldly magic. In the face of a force so vast, his own strength seemed diminished.
The panicked dreadlord ran up beside him, still looking for his missing Dark Lady, "Do you sense any signs of her?"
"I'm trying," Illidan snapped impatiently. The task he was attempting now was impossible enough--as if there was anything else he could have done...
As Varimathras started to turn and scamper somewhere for help, Illidan felt a sharp sting an inch about his heart. Undead? No. Certainly that blow was too ethereal and delicate to be from one of the clumsy Scourge warriors. The traitorous attack felt as soft as starlight at first, and then began to scald his flesh causing agonizing pain. He could hear the dreadlord crying out a warning, "Spirits of vengeance! We should...wait..."
An avatar followed closely behind, but instead of taking the shape of a typical night elven female, it resembled a monster with far too many claws. The spell caster was nowhere to be seen.
"What is it now?" the satyrs seemed alarmed as well. They surged forward to assail the avatar. With so many corpses on the battlefield, the avatar could raise an infinite number of warriors if it was not taken care of first.
Illidan now knew that new danger arrived, but after having part of his memories removed, it just did not register in his mind that it was...
With one swift flick of its bladed arm, the avatar severed the head of a satyr from his body. It proceeded to slash and hack, disintegrating another poor warrior as though it was possessed by mad hatred. The rest of the satyrs stood their ground, but soon, their courage faltered as they witnessed their comrades fall before their eyes one by one...
Roaring to the grey cold heavens, the avatar stampeded...
Kael was barely aware of the commotion happening behind him. His concentration was solely on his opponent, his determination set on one purpose--to fight for his survival. His dark phoenix vaporized from its own heat and left behind a golden egg, and until its rebirth Kael was on his own. He had already taken more than five of Ner'zhul painful death coil spells and was running low on healing potions. Another spell, he could tell from the low chanting of his opponent, was coming his way.
The impact knocked him backwards and he landed in ankle-deep water. The waves surging onshore had made their way to the inner land. Soon when seawater drowned out the land, his fire magic would have no place on the battlefield. Therefore, he must time his moves precisely before...
Damn, thought Kael as he shot a look at the phoenix egg. The water's impact would weaken the shell and threaten the majestic creature sleeping inside. He had no more strength to summon another phoenix--not now. But time was what he did not have. He willed it to awaken...
"The waves..." Ner'zhul hissed to himself, "are magical."
Kael could have blamed him for the disaster if it was not for the surprise the lich king displayed. But if the tsunami was caused by neither of them, who could...
Another giant--enormous wave crashed onshore.
Seawater took with it many, many more warriors on both sides. It rushed towards the phoenix egg.
Damn it, stupid bird. Wake up!
Waves buried everything, its impacting forces so vast that both Ner'zhul and Kael had to grab hold onto something to keep themselves from being washed away. The Blood Mage was then quite certain that his phoenix was gone. When the waves retreated, he felt cold. Everything was so cold and bleak.
His enemy stood up from crouching position with weapon still in hand, but he did not fight. On his face, instead, there was an air of triumph.
"Your fight is over, Kael'thas," he advised. "Sylvanas is gone. I don't sense her telepathy any longer."
Kael forced himself not to look for her. What Ner'zhul told him could be true. Or he could be trying to break him. For the sake of Sylvanas, he must banish his emotions. He would not look. He would have faith in her.
He would not allow Ner'zhul to take advantage of his feelings.
"I thought she meant something more to you," the lich king studied the unresponsive elf in amusement.
Anguish and weariness in Kael's soul noshed the dark power in his core--slowly, but surely, restoring his strength. It was a strange feeling, and he almost could not comprehend it, until...
"Kael'thas!" Varimathras yelped as he rushed forward, "Sylvanas is gone! The waves took her!"
That was it. Sylvanas was in dire peril. Kael thought his own heart stopped beating.
Frostmourne glinted with malicious light.
And it was that one critical second, when Kael was certain he would lose either his life or his soul under the blade of Frostmourne, he saw Ner'zhul recoil. The lich king betrayed no emotions behind his visor, but his body was immobilized by a spasm of pain. The runeblade threatened to fall out of his hands, but he managed to reaffirm his grip. Kael looked at him in surprise--and then behind him. He thought he saw a human child, a brunette, with green eyes much too cold for a girl her age. She did not look back at him. She was staring at Ner'zhul with baleful rage. Her hand was held out for him to see--her fingertips sizzled from the effect of a dark spell.
The lich king spun around and swung Frostmourne forcefully. Before Kael could do anything, an abomination moved in front of him and whipped its chopper against his head. He rolled out of the way and returned an attack. It had little effect on the monster, but he had little time to care. He must help Elma. He must...He saw her bleed and he feared what might become of her.
But Sylvanas could be in danger--or dead as well.
"Varimathras!" Kael grabbed the dreadlord. "You stay here and help the girl. I'll find Sylvanas."
"What girl?" came Varimathras's perplexed response. He had obviously not seen Elma.
"Elma," Kael pointed at Ner'zhul who was...no longer there anymore. Damn. Too many warriors crammed the place and he lost sight of the lich king.
He had to make a decision quickly, though he knew either option he chose, it would not be easy on his conscience. He would have to live with some sort of guilt.
"Are you sure Sylvanas was washed away by the waves?" he questioned Varimathras in a tone so fierce that made the dreadlord draw back.
"I saw her leaning against a wagon. When the waves hit the shore, she was not there anymore. I cannot..." Before Varimathras even completed his sentence, Kael was already threading through the warring sides towards the coastline. The elf did not seem to see a magical vortex in the middle of the harbour. If he did, he paid no heed to it.
He dove.
"Kael!"
Her voice in his head.
They were back on the Frozen Sea, battling against Sapphiron who came to keep them from reaching the lich king's major-domo. He gripped tight onto a projection on the floating ice plane that began to drift, but his fingers became numb and burnt by the cold. He felt himself slipping...
"Jump. Keep your head under water and swim."
She was undead--he still remembered the shock when he found out who she really was. Having no other options, he let himself slide into water and swam for dear life until his hand touched on something solid--land. He had not been grateful then, but he knew if he had not gave her his trust, he would probably have died.
He was underwater now. The water was warmer than that of the Frozen Sea though equally deadly--this time, it was his spirit that became so cold.
"True, I'm looking for Kil'jaeden," Sylvanas told him while they were on board the ship to Lordaeron. She was dressing his wounds. Her fingers, though decayed and icy, were still gentle. "But that is not the reason I came to you. You are our prince. You have the power to lead the elves."
I am not sure anymore, he cried out in his mind, shaking his head grimly to clear his head. Why did she have to do it? If she had not, things would have been different, and she would not be in danger now...He continued searching for her amid the roaring waves. He could see nothing. But he knew he could never give up until he found her--dead or alive.
"I'd pledge myself to the demonlord's will in exchange for the Blood Elves' freedom..."
She had done so much for him--was he even worthy? Whenever he found himself in trouble, he could have her there to help him out. Though she had never admitted loving him, she was always there for him, willing to sacrifice herself.
She slipped her Quel'thalassian brooch into his hand before leaving him to fight Alanen. He returned it to her though the feeling of the angular metal pressed against his palm stayed with him.
"En'shu-falah-nah."
She gave, asking for nothing back from him. She gave him his freedom. She saved his life on more than two occasions. And suddenly, he realized how blind he was.
Kael'thas, you are a fool. You are a hopeless fool.
"Kael, I...I'm sorry."
Moonlight shone on her tearful face as he leaned forward to kiss her--the touch of her lips was still so vivid in his mind, the soft contours of her body...it was painful to think she would be gone forever. He could not allow that.
An object floated before his eyes--like a miracle. He grabbed it and held onto it with both hands.
Her brooch.
He grasped it tight in his palms. The angles pressed deep into his flesh, hurting him--and he felt a bit more alive. But he was a fool! A fool, nonetheless!
He was sinking so fast. Water rushed into his lungs, drowning out his world. He could no longer see the surface. His vision blurred.
As he was failing, he came face to face with death's mistress--four elven females swam up to him, dragging him away from danger, helping him with sympathy in their familiar eyes. He could not say for certain where and when he met them, but somehow, he knew they were not going to harm him and he was not afraid. They took him out of the whirlpool into calmer waters.
And there, drifting, was Sylvanas. She was unconscious. He tried to call her name, but saltwater choked him. Yet he found her. The four elves did not stop him as he swam over to the Dark Lady and tried to find some signs of life in her. Her heart was still beating, though its pulse seemed to be getting weaker and weaker.
I thought she meant something more to you...
Ner'zhul's accusation returned to haunt him, but now, he knew what he should say now. He understood what she meant to him. Sylvanas was his life. He would give her his last breath...
Cupping his mouth against hers, he breathed into her...
Varimathras was almost certain that Kael was gone, as was the Dark Lady. No living being could have survived underwater for so long--and if they were both gone, what was the point staying? He looked at Illidan, the Forsaken, and the Scourge, still caught in their war. They were still fighting, dying for nothing.
He said an oath as another massive tsunami hit the shore. Realizing he was too close to the coast, he ran as fast as he could, knowing that there was little chance he could have escaped--but he risked a glance back as the waves avoided him. Oh yes. It steered away from him as though it was alive.
At the front of the waves, the dreadlord thought he saw the figure of four elven women, racing towards the scene as quickly as the storm. Their hair trailed behind them, braided into one giant string to pull the allies' forces back to safety--among the rescued there were the Forsaken, Blood Elves, Satyrs and Naga alike. But the Scourge warriors that were taken to the ocean never returned.
"How is that possible?" his jaw dropped. Whatever it was, the tsunami seemed to be on the allies' side.
The four spectres trampled upon the Scourge, drowning them, washing them away, disintegrating them with the sheer force of water.
The Scourge began retreating inland, bringing with them chaos. The allies gave chase, but they only fled in different directions. The undead warriors parted to reveal Ner'zhul who stood with Frostmourne held out in front of him as though to hold off the giant wave. His blade was stained with the lifeblood of a young being.
The wave stopped in front of him and gently placed onto the blood soaked floor two figures.
Sylvanas got up from the floor, coughing water out of her lungs. She thrust her head up and saw Ner'zhul, watching her.
With the four spectres still glaring hatefully at him, he knew he could not win this battle.
He pulled off his visor--the blue eyes bore unfeelingly into the Dark Lady's core. She forced herself to stand up, though fatigue got the better of her.
He said icily, "You owe me your life and loyalty. Twice have I brought you back from death--once into undeath and once into life. And while you were held captive in the Demonlord's citadel, I have served you and helped you survive until you were rescued."
He raised a hand and pointed at her, and she clutched at her own chest from the psychic-induced pain.
"This is where you've hurt me, Lady," he reminded her, placing a hand over his own heart where her poison arrow struck him not so long ago. "And this is where I shall begin to hurt you."
She made no comment as the pain took hold. Still, she held her head high in defiance as he turned his back and retreated from the scene, still mocking her. "It doesn't matter when or how, but you will be mine eventually, Sylvanas Windrunner. Mine."
And as his army disappeared completely out of sight, all that remained of the Scourge were the ruins of those who did not make it.
*~*~*~*
"The sun sets, milady," Varimathras came up from behind Sylvanas with a bow. He wanted to tell her that she had better get going if she wanted to make it out of the harbour before sunlight faded. Lady Scilla and the Naga had recovered their ships--surprisingly, not a mark was left on them. The supplies on board merely shifted place, but nothing was broken. But that did not seem relevant now.
She hardly heard him. Bathing in the evening's last glow, everything was warm and calm. Everything was as gold as Kael's hair.
Sylvanas mumbled a reply absent-mindedly as she fingered through the long bond hair of the man in her embrace. He came close to losing her and his own life, and now he was both physically and emotionally exhausted. In spite of it, he would not stop blaming himself for losing Elma, even though there was nothing he could have done for her.
She tried to tell him that perhaps it would be better for the little girl this way.
The Forsaken, the Blood Elves and some of the Dwarves helped remove the bodies from the blood-bathed battlefield. They did not find her remains, though they suspected that she could have been torn apart by the beastly lich king--they found ruins of fingers small enough to belong to a human child.
Sylvanas breathed a sigh.
Illidan approached, and she and Kael both turned to face him.
The four elven spectres followed closely behind the demon hunter, smiling at Kael. The setting sunlight shone right through their transparent bodies, making them seem to glow in brilliance.
"Thank you," he smiled back wearily at the four souls who saved the lives of him and his love. "Vashj." Though she--or they had been banished, through death, to another world, his friendship and memories still bonded them to him, enabling them to help him with their power. He could see now what they might have looked like before the corruption of magic took their souls and warped them into an unsightly, mutilated Medusa--they had once been beautiful, vivacious children of the stars.
"Sylvanas," Illidan said. "We really should set off. Vashj said she'd guard us."
"All right," the Dark Lady sighed. "Just give me a few more minutes."
Illidan and Vashj smiled meaningfully and turned away to let her and Kael have a moment to themselves.
"How ironic it seems," Kael chuckled to himself as he stroked her cheek. "I said I'd do anything for you--now I have to let you go as well."
It was all he had to say to make everything she did seem so wrong. She could feel the tears coming to her eyes. Now more than ever, she was uncertain about leaving. But in her heart she knew what must be done.
"I..."
He silenced her with a kiss, a gentle farewell. She could taste the salt of her own tears but she tried to keep them from falling. Oh Fate!
"Take care," he whispered emotionally, "wherever you may go. I'll be waiting for you."
"Kael'thas," she breathed and pretended to be strong, but her tearful eyes betrayed her. She had to say it--this could be her last chance, "I think I love you."
She watched as his weathered features softened, replaced by an expression of bliss, "I know."
Forcing a smile, she bade him farewell, "En'shu-dalak."
"En'shu-dalak."
That meant good evening, not goodbye.
As daylight faded slowly, she was once again off on her quest to destroy Ner'zhul--or was it only to destroy herself? Somehow, this departure did not feel so different from that when she boarded a ship to Northrend a year ago. And yet deep down, she knew she had changed.
And as the ships set sail and cruised into the setting sun, she felt so far away from home.
*~*~*~*
End of Part II
*~*~*~*
J A/N: AHHHHHHHHJJJJJJJJJEEEEEEEEEZZZZZZZZ! DONE! My third fanfic COMPLETED!!
First off, I apologize for any potential grammatical and semantic error I make in this chapter. Haven't slept well for quite a while. Hopefully it wasn't too bad. All right. I wasn't allowed to kill Nerz and Syl cuz Blizzard needs them in WOW. I tried to make it fit into canon. Syl is SUPPOSED to go west with the Forsaken before/during WOW, and she'd be looking for shelter and supplies that no one would give her in Lordaeron, and to solve her problem, she'd forge an alliance with the Horde--and in case you're wondering where this mess leads to, look over here, *waves frantically* I have a weird depiction of that storyline. Illidan's story, titled 'Blood Leprechaun' will take place during Syl's alliance with the Horde. If you wanna find out something more about it, turn the page. Otherwise, I thank you so much for reading ^_^.
In case you're wondering what happened to the black warden, it will be explained in the sequel. And she's not in league with Nerz--rather, it's someone else.
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Eternity: Oh, that's okay. I've been busy with school work and everything anyway. I saw your column on SE ^_^. Whatever that problem is, I hope everything will eventually be okay with you guys. Thanks for reading.
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Rowan Seven: Oops, my bad...you got me about that portal thing. *scratches head* According to canon, Illie did sail in a boat, even after he claimed the Eye of Sargeras, so I guess that doesn't have anything to do with his power, I don't know. Illidan's strength was still not fully recovered after being raised from undeath, so he didn't want to tax it too much. Or let's just say that it's strangely romantic to fight a war on a dock in the afternoon sun. Blah blah blah *sighs O_o* blah blah.
Ai...more descriptions....um...so it's been proven that when I want to get things done quicker it generally doesn't work *sigh*. Yeah, I kind of skipped over some of the details and I cut out a chunk of descriptions so that I could update the chapter before everybody forgets me. I'll be good next time O_o.
As for whether the Forsaken followed Syl by their own will, I don't think all of them did. The band of assassins (provided that they're still counted as part of the Forsaken after that particular mission) did not--bad example. But definitely the three dreadlord's forces (that I possessed or charmed while I was playing Syl's levels definitely did not.
As for Rami Bronzebeard, I'll admit it, that he's one of those 'passing' character I made up just for that chapter. Maybe he'll get his own story next time. Nerz would like to thank you for appreciating his character, and so would Illie and Syl. Ah...and how old do you think Kael is? Probably we should just email Blizzard and ask them. But yeah, I mean you could definitely be right when Vashj said, 'It [magic] flowed through your veins through ten thousand years' that she's addressing the whole race.
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Frostweaver: Wow! I'm indeed honoured. Thanks for your compliments. Oh, I love emotional torments so much that it is obscenely masochistic. Anyhow...certainly I'm not too careful of a writer. There are holes here and there in the plot, especially the story is written over the span of nine months and I've changed my mind like 16 billion times. But I don't forget characters, that's true ^_^. And as for why so many secrets are kept from Kael...when compared to Illie and Nerz in this story, he is extremely *cough*naïve*cough*.
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DemonGod86: Haha. I *intend* to avenge Illie (damn Blizzard injustice), so of course, it wouldn't have been him who died. Syl wouldn't either, cuz WOW wouldn't have worked without her. As for the kid...indeed Illie will kinda play the role of the father in the absence of Kael (in a very weird way, in the sequel), but trust the kid to become not evil. He/she'd be raised by Tyrande and Furion--man, how bad can he/she get? But I will refuse to reveal the identity of the black warden until it becomes inevitable. Here's my survival report:
1. ME, a.k.a. J Cae!! YAY!!!
2. Yes, it's indeed our fav DH
3. Syl
4. Kael (actually, I'm kinda wondering a bit what the word bishie means...)
5. Their kid
6. Varimathras (he can't even say his own name ten times fast)
7. Scilla, Illie's new sea witch
8. Nerz (he'll be quite all right until next we meet)
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Ride4Ruin:
Hope I answered your question ^_^. Thanks for reading.
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Ira Poon: Thank you for your long-time support ^_^!! It is the third time you read my story from the beginning to the end!! I certainly hope that I'll be determined enough to finish off something else as well...we'll see. Definitely I'll talk about the kid. He/she'd be the spirit or (somewhat) one of the themes in Blood Leprechaun.
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Queen of the Harpies: Yup, an Illie story with romance. Yup, a new version of 'To Honour'. And yup, I've admitted that Arthas is cool. ^_^. I LOVE NAGA SEA WITCHES!! I don't get why people hate them either they're so the funnest heroes to use ever!! Anyhow, thanks for pointing out the plot flaws in my previous chapter. I'm gonna hafta find some ways to cover up before anyone else finds out. In a way, I don't think Illie is too evil. He's just...driven. He wouldn't have seriously hurt Vashj if he wasn't so jealous about her friendship with Kael. Kael already knew what Mondelv has to tell him--and it's something to do with the kid, and...haha. Sorry. I'm gonna have to stop giving out Illie's story. Look out! It's coming sooooooon.
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wingchumonZERO: Thanks a bunch. Really appreciate your support.
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GG Crono 4: Oatmeal...eew...there's something personal to why I don't like oatmeal. That's what my mom used to cook for me whenever I was sick when I was a child, and nothing tastes pleasant when you're sick. Thanks anyhow.