BLOOD LEPRECHAUN
by
Her Majesty J Cae, New Crowned Queen of Nazjatar (and DO NOT forget that)
A/N: I humbly beseech your lordships and ladyships to grant me your most compassionate forgiveness, and allow me to give my thanks for your patience. I have been transformed into a Naga by a violent magical storm that flooded my dorm and blasted Azshara to the bottom of hell. My blue scaled hands have outgrown the keyboard and I keep on missing all the keys. Since then I've been inhumanly busy...uh...searching for a remedy to reverse this malady but to little success.
I REALIZE I AM DOOMED TO 10,000 YEARS OF PROCRASTINATION.
(shakes fist at the burning legion of demonic profs)
MUST BE YOU DRATTED MORTAL SURFACE DWELLERS!!
But here's an update to reward you readers for your patience. Yes, yes, yes, Kael is back, and my OC whom I've been talking about for the last 10 years will finally make herself known.
CHAPTER FIVE: REVEALED
(QUEL'DARA, 13 YEARS AFTER SYLVANAS SAILED WEST)
"There are...questions I would like to ask you, Kael'thas."
In the dark adorned throne hall, the undead queen glided forward, her boots barely touching the cold marble floor. Her long silvery hair brushed past her face as though a breath of frigid air surrounded her. On her eyelashes there seemed to coat a shadow of frost--or was it a mere figment of Kael's imagination. He shuddered in spite of himself.
She must be frozen to the touch.
She drew closer to him unhurriedly, yet he could not but shrink back from her. She carried no weapons on her, nor did she show any intention to attack, but something cautioned him. Beside him, he saw his general Iria also tensed, pressing a hand to her bow.
The young sorceress behind Sylvanas also alerted.
Who was she? Kael's gaze shifted momentarily upon the spell-caster. Her dark brown hip-length curls cast neatly down both sides of her shoulders, framing a face so fair and white it seemed to be carved out of marble. Her violet robes fell in orderly folds to her ankles, and she was wearing black soft leather boots. A sword was belted to her slender waist. The magical energy coursing in her veins, he could tell, was just as dark as her hair. At a glance, she did not seem to be of elven heritage, yet her lithe and graceful form did not resemble that of an ungainly human either. Perhaps she was a half-elf?
Her bright emerald eyes focused sharply into his. The urgency contained in them seemed to be sending him a message of sorts.
Not without effort, he drew his attention back upon Sylvanas, "Before I answer your questions, tell me what happened to our child. Did you take him to Lord Stormrage and the priestess?"
"That, I trusted to Illidan," she answered in a tone that held no more warmth than ice. "I can tell you no more."
"Did Illidan take him to Kalimdor then?" somehow, the elven king had never trusted the demon hunter as much as she did. He braced himself for the worst sort of response.
"I do not know."
"By the Lights! You are his mother!" Kael raised his voice, knowing that he would somehow regret using that tone with Sylvanas--but then, she was no longer the Sylvanas he once knew. A terrible pain contracted his heart. For thirteen years he had waited for her--anguished years spent in waiting! He would not mind in the least bit if only it had been for a purpose. The news of her return elated him, but at the same time cursed him to endless purgatory. Not like this--this was not what he had been praying for. This was not what he was ready for.
All that he hoped for was gone from him, and she had to be the one to cast everything away. He would have understood if he knew she never loved him--it would not be the first time he was sentenced to unrequited love. But they had been through so much together, they had been so close to having everything--and he had been so certain she was all that he wanted!
He thought he understood how important defeating the lich king was to her--he let her go, taking with her his heart and his trust. All right, she returned as an undead. He would still welcome her with open arms--did she ever realize that he had begun to love her long before she was brought back to life? He would try in any way to restore her, but if he could not, he would willingly suffer through eternities of undeath with her.
But what now?
"I can see it, Sylvanas," he whispered--these few words he never thought he would say, a truth that was harder to articulate than anything he had ever realized, "You just don't care at all."
"I have my reasons for not caring."
He almost wanted to ask her what they were, but there were things best left unexplained. Overwhelmed with emotions, the words just would not come, "What...what did you name the child? You can...at least tell me that."
The name--the only thing that he would be able to find out about this child he had loved for thirteen years but never even met.
"Tianithan," the undead queen whispered slowly. "Tianithan Windrunner."
(ORGRIMMAR, 2 MONTHS AFTER THE BLACK WARDEN WAS DRIVEN BACK)
The smudge of defiant pride did not leave Samuro's face even as he was summoned into the Warchief's workroom. Spirits forgive him if he pushed his rights a little. He and Thiong had managed to subdue the brutish humans for the second time and came up with a plan for a massive counter-attack. Thrall was always hesitant about sending troops to Theramore Isle, but he should be no more--Samuro was certain this plan of his would guarantee victory, and he himself would emerge hero of the Horde.
"Greetings to you, Warchief."
"Blessings," Thrall replied, standing from his desk and extended his arms to greet Samuro. The blademaster bowed deeply, and--paused. Suddenly he realized Thrall was not alone. His gaze met the cold scrutiny of a high elven woman seated at the opposite side of the room. He could tell she was recovering from childbirth, as she was in an orcish woman's grey gown. But it was unthinkable why she should be allowed to set foot into the Warchief's workroom, let alone sitting there like an honoured guest. The impassionate stare on her face told him that her hands had been wet with orc blood before--probably she had been in the Second War.
Samuro expressed, "Warchief, I do not mean to be rude, but I was hoping we could converse in private?"
Seeming to read his doubts, Thrall explained, "Ranger Windrunner is a friend to us orcs. You may speak freely in front of her."
"But Warchief, she is..."
A Windrunner, he meant to say. Windrunners had killed countless orcs in previous skirmishes between them. Thrall was young and probably did not know the histories too well, but he should know that Windrunners were their sore enemies.
"You must be civil to the lady who helped defend Orgrimmar," Thrall cautioned him. "During the invasion while you were absent, Lady Windrunner has put her life at risk for the sake of our city."
"Understood, Warchief." Turning to Sylvanas, the blademaster bowed, "Pardon my lack of manners."
All three of them in the room knew his apology meant nothing. He resented the scene before his eyes--an elf woman invited to the Warchief's meeting indeed! Had Thrall lost his sense? It would not scar the blademaster's conscience if Sylvanas died fighting for the orcs. He would not give a damn.
Samuro almost disliked Sylvanas immediately. He was doubtful of her intentions even after hearing Thrall explain again of his decision to let her remain in Orgrimmar with Illidan. He feared her power and ambition. He feared that the Warchief might be placing too much trust upon her than it was safe.
But little did he know then, that it would be Thrall who eventually betrayed Sylvanas into the hands of Ner'zhul--
(QUEL'DARA, 13 YEARS AFTER SYLVANAS SAILED WEST)
Now night had finally taken the last bit of light, and darkness shrouded the throne room. Kael did not bother with lighting a candle. He could see so much clearer now.
He might have wanted to listen to how Sylvanas forged a fragile alliance with the orcs and fought against the Scourge. He might have wanted to know how she was eventually betrayed into the hands of the foul lich king--oh yes, by the orcs. But he could see it clearly now, that it all happened to someone else. Not to the woman he loved.
He asked her to stop.
"Now that you know what I have done after reaching Kalimdor," the Queen of the Forsaken trained her grey bleak eyes upon the elf king, her gaze penetrating into his very soul. "Will you tell me what you have been doing all the while I was gone? I presume you wouldn't have just sat around and waited for my return." A cold shadow of a smile played upon her lips. Kael knew she must be savouring the anguish expression on his face--she should have known the answer all along. He had been waiting for her.
"Don't scorn me, Sylvanas," he rose to his feat unsteadily. Iria almost wanted to go over and help him, but he waved her away. "Don't make a mockery out of my torment. What I have done for the past thirteen years indeed! I've been believing in you. But now I see I have made a mistake."
A pained expression suddenly crossed the face of the young sorceress behind Sylvanas--Kael thought it reminded him of someone even though he was certain he had never seen her before. But by the Lights! She was so young! He reckoned her to be no more than sixteen. How could she have known such pain? How could she understand his anguish?
"I have believed in you," Kael repeated, averting his gaze. "But I have also been expanding the city. I have returned to Quel'thalas and eradicated all remnants of the Scourge. I have returned some of the stranded refugees to Sunstriders's rule. I have re-established our ruling body--your brother is running the Windrunner's council."
"Let the remains of the Scourge rot for all I care!" Sylvanas exclaimed so suddenly, he felt himself trembling from the hatred in her voice. "The Scourge is no more. Ner'zhul has lost all power!"
"But you said he killed you, didn't you?" he almost wanted to grab her by the shoulders and ask her to make sense out of everything she said.
"That is true--" she narrowed her eyes, seeming to sense his intention and took a step back. "He had me tortured for months--nay, probably years. He had me trapped in his necropolis of death, keeping me from seeing the light of day. He mutilated my body and bounded my soul, bled me, hurt me, until I was on the verge of dying...until then when..." her voice trailed off into a sneer. "He has lots all power now."
"He is...dead?" Kael suggested, almost hopefully.
"No, by everything dark and evil, no. He is not dead. His spirit is strong and cannot be destroyed. But I have taken all his power. Still, his ghost walks for a chance of vengeance, but he is not a threat anymore."
"What happened..." the question formed on his lips. He did not understand a word of what she was saying at all and he wondered--the woman's life and soul were gone. Was her sanity also taken from her?
"Don't ask! We have no time to lose now. Just content with this answer--that an old friend of yours intervened and helped me turn the wheel around."
"An old friend?" immediately, all possibilities flowed into his mind. Could it be any of the elven generals? Remaining members of the Kirin Tor? Shan'do Stormrage and his priestess? Illidan himself--ah, but it could not have been him if she put it that way. Kael could not recall now anyone of his 'old friends' who could still be alive...
What of Maiev? Was she lost in Outland or had she returned to Azeroth to aid Sylvanas in her quest?
"Come with me, Kael," Sylvanas's tone was suddenly enthusiastic--he could not say that he liked it at all. "I have always wanted you to come to the Undercity--the stronghold that I have built upon Ner'zhul's capital. You have to see it with your own eyes to know the splendour of it."
"I guess--but why?" he was doubtful of her intentions. But if she had wanted to kill him, she had probably done so already--unless, of course, she wanted to torture him first.
"Why?" deadly anger now seeped into her voice. "Because Quel'dara is burning down. You cannot stay here, else you'd burn in the fire. You and your people must leave with us or perish forever. I will have your allegiance before I wage war upon the orcs for betraying me into Ner'zhul's hands."
"You are out of your mind, Sylvanas!" he readied a spell. He never though he would have to fight her--but what difference would it make now even if he killed her on the spot. It would not change the fact that his city was burning to its frames.
He had no choice in the matter. If he was not king, he might have chosen to follow her to the Undercity, shut off his conscience and do whatever she asked of him. But things were different. His responsibility was to his people. He could not let her do anymore damage to Quel'dara nor put the lives of his people in peril.
Outside, he could hear the Forsaken's horns blare to life. The attack had already begun.
"Do not fight me, Kael. It is useless, you know. I offer you a way of life--follow me and fight by my side as you have once done."
"You have never lost Kael'thas's allegiance," he told her coldly, "until now."
"Pride," she mocked venomously. "Is it funny how pride works against us even in desperate moments? But you'll do well to remember this. I come to wipe out your city and civilization, and you are spared only out of my mercy."
"What have you become, Sylvanas? You have tried to defeat Ner'zhul, only to have become him. You are no different to what he was."
"Such was my failure--my fate," she made no attempts to justify her actions. "I was weak then, therefore I must give way to a stronger. Now, the wheel has turned around. He is no more and I am him. Serve me, Sunstrider, or perish."
Furious energies gathered in her palm and balled into a sizzling orb. Like an excited glow-worm, she let it escape and dart into midair, rising higher and higher until it reached the domed ceiling--and erupted into blinding brilliance. Almost immediately, the frame of the roof caught fire. Blue eerie flames coiled and sprawled across the ceiling and rained down into the throne room, fuelled by the unending darkness that had come to conquer the last asset of elven civilization.
Iria moved in front of Kael'thas and fired her weapon at Sylvanas, but the young sorceress produced a gleaming stave from beneath her robes and melted the arrows before they neared her mistress. The Queen of the Forsaken hurled a glob of energy at the general and sent her sprawling to the floor. Arcane words came to Kael's lips...
"My king!" the door to the throne room was bolted open, and royal guards entered with weapons in hand. Kael recognized the scruffy-looking rider, Khecomo, among them with twin long knives in his hands. The purple-garbed sorceress spun around to face them with her flaring stave in hand--her confidence alone was almost enough to knock back a few lesser warriors.
Iria shifted and attempted to get up to Kael's relief, even though her wounds were not of light degree.
A burning chunk of the roof crashed onto the marble floor between the elven king and the Dark Lady. Sylvanas did not even flinch. Kael looked up and saw undead faces peering from the hole. Before he realized what was happening, he felt death ate at his flesh and recoiled in pain--there was a death knight up there on the blazing dome. Two by two, Forsaken warriors leapt from the roof and landed in the throne room. They outnumbered the elven guards.
Khecomo was swift on his feet. He lunged at the sorceress who blocked his twin blows deftly with her stave. She had to be well-trained to withstand Khec's famous attacks. Her sword clanged at its scabbard, but it was strange that she did not draw it. Pulling herself to a safe distance for a spell, she summoned two rock golems to block Khec's path before calling an artificial blizzard down with a graceful wave of her arm.
The death knight kicked an injured Iria away from his path as he charged across the room at Kael with his runeblade raised. The elven king could still tell from his rotted features that he had been of human heritage--yet again. Kael thought to use flame strike against the fallen human, but that would only speed up the destruction of his throne room.
Flaming debris continued to rain down, and the roof looked as though it was about to collapse at anytime. Kael worried for his own mortality--his hesitation was taken advantage of by his undead opponents. The death knight's forceful swing created a wound upon his shoulder.
"My lord!"
It was an archer's cry. She unleashed her deadly arrows and struck the death knight through the weakness of his armour at the armpit. Her shot would have killed a mortal man, but it did not seem to affect the dead one in anyway. He returned a death coil, killing her almost instantly. Though Kael could have done nothing to prevent her sacrifice, he was grateful to her for giving him the time he needed to slip away from this opponent.
If this was a ballroom, then the guards were all partnered to doom, waltzing across the blood-splattered marble floor into certain death. Warriors swayed in time with the cries of pain, swinging around in graceful but lethal Volta steps.
Kael had never known what the venom of a runeblade was like until he tasted it--this was what Sylvanas had been cursed to suffer so many years ago when Ner'zhul first took her soul. He did not know what vile enchantments the death knight used against him, but it was unwelcoming. He began to see...beyond the living flesh and blood army who were fighting against the rotten walking corpses. He thought he began to see spectres of tortured souls hovering. The wound on his shoulder barely bled. It merely stung and burnt...
He hardly notice when someone crept up to him from behind. A slender arm went round his neck--it was warm. So close to him now his captor was he could feel her breathing on his skin. Her soft robes seeped faint fragrance of wild flowers. So close to him now was a face so fine and flawless, neither elven nor human but something else together. His breath caught in his throat, not only from her inhuman beauty, but from the sight of her stave sizzling with unholy energies.
"Ishnu-alah, King Kael'thas," the sorceress whispered in his ear, her voice, like her appearance, young and soft but contained so much more behind it. "I'll explain later, but I won't let them hurt you. I offer you freedom, but do what I tell you now." Quickly--and almost cleverly, she added, "Ah, the contradiction."
It took him seconds to realize she was speaking fluent elvish.
Suddenly, Sylvanas's attention turned upon the young woman. She left alone a royal guard she was fighting who seemed to be grateful he did not have to meet his end so soon. The Dark Lady glared at the sorceress questioningly as she paced herself towards the captured king. As if held immobilized by unnatural, awesome power, the warriors on both parties ceased to fight. The elven king was in the mercy of the sorceress, and the undead queen was enraged. "Let go of him," in a low warning tone, Sylvanas spoke.
"It doesn't have to end your way, my queen," the sorceress shook her head. Her tone was civil, not insolent. "I could kill him now and end Sunstrider's reign. You can take up the crown." Her arcane stave flared with an even more brilliant light. Kael wondered if he should still believe in her--it seemed to him a good time to struggle.
Sylvanas seemed concerned now--not about him, he knew, but about losing an ally against the Horde, "You wouldn't dare touch him." She raised her undead hands and weaved a spell against the girl who shrank herself completely behind Kael, using him as a shield.
"You will release our king now!" Khecomo cried, stepping forward despite Sylvanas's icy glare.
"He's the rider who took us here, wasn't he?" the sorceress asked Kael who nodded. "Tell him to summon his mount."
But before he could give his orders, a large portion of the roof caved in. The girl dragged him aside in time to avoid being hit. Kael had to marvel at her strength--she managed to move him with the force of one arm.
"Khecomo, summon your dragonhawk," Kael commanded.
"My king?"
"Do it!"
Sylvanas narrowed her undead eyes, "My gargoyles will tear your mount to shreds before you leave the city."
"You forget, milady," was the sorceress's reply, pressing her stave closer to Kael.
Khecomo did as he was told.
"Your general, your Majesty," the sorceress motioned at Iria who managed to drag herself out of the way and was leaning, bleeding against the wall. "Call her to your side. You will need a brave warrior who would sacrifice her life for your sake."
Iria's wounds had zapped her strength and she was unable to move by herself, but Kael had the rider help her. She did not delay, but glared distrustingly at the girl.
Undead warriors moved to surround the group. Kael hoped that the young woman knew what she was doing. In capturing him and going against Sylvanas's will, she would have drawn the wraths of both the elves and the undead upon herself.
After what seemed to be an eternity, the Dragonhawk soared over the huge burning hole in the roof. But gargoyles--hundreds of them, waited to feast on its flesh. Just as Kael was wondering how they should get onto the mount, he heard the sorceress whisper a spell. Why--teleportation? Why did she call for the dragonhawk then?
Just as the throne room faded to white around him, Kael thought he saw what remained of the roof collapsed into dust. Denial was upon his lips, but he could not be certain if he actually sounded it. He would not worry about the Forsaken--their Lady Sylvanas would take care of them. But the royal guards--his people were gone and he never even had a chance to help them...
(...get ready for a 3 page-long A/N)
TEASER:
Kael: (scrolls through reviews) Um...a lot of people seem to be interested in whether you and me will get back together, Syl.
Syl: Get back together...with you? That's nice, but no thanks. I'm fed up with J's awful scripts.
Kael: All right already! Who else would you rather go with then? You're gonna have to end up with somebody.
Syl: Geh! I don't have to! I'm an undead feminist if you haven't already noticed!
Kael: You obviously have no choice since this is an Action/Adventure/Romance fic, and you're the heroine.
Syl: I'm gonna email J and tell her not to stick me with Thrall (sends email).
Kael: Good idea. I'm gonna tell her to do exactly what you don't want her to do (sends email).
Syl: Then I'll ask her to make you and Tyrande a pair (sends email).
Kael: Don't mind if she does (sends email).
[Illie & Malfie: Tyrande is mine!! (send 29,087,665,432,898,798 emails altogether)]
Syl: Eh, maybe not Tyrande then. You're with Davita (sends email).
Kael: You serious? Okay. You go with Rexxar (sends email).
Syl: You're with a kodo beast, amen.
Kael: (-censored-)
Kodo Beast: No fair! I can't...type...drat!!
Syl: Just kidding, Kael. You and Leprecha (sends email).
Kael: Arrrghh! But too bad J doesn't do Mary Sues!! You and Nerz!! (pauses before hitting send button...)
J Cae: (walks around) Jeez...I seem to be getting tons of weird emails lately. Any idea what's going on?
Syl & Kael: (innocently) Spam. Must be spam.
J Cae: Aw...You two are just so cute together. Thanks, guys, I'm so inspired!! (walks away to write more fanfiction, singing to the tune of the Corr's 'Humdrum') ...lalala I have visions like no other / so romantic you'll discover...
Kael: So...that's you and me again, huh, Syl?
Syl: That should answer the FAQ of the month (sighs).
A/N
Nazjatar is all peace and beauty now that nature's might has finally rid us of Azshara and her dratted wails of self-pity. Why, 'tis a blessing to be Naga, methinks. While drifting amid the currents, my serpentine Majesty has come up with a companion story titled 'My Grave, the Ocean', a standalone prelude to the RG series. Ah, the contradiction--not a very optimistic title, I must admit. But call it a little anniversary celebration. You can get a preview of MGTO's prologue on SE or WarCraft III Forums, but My Majesty will also upload it here. I'm so darn close to finishing the first chapter!!
(/ End Naga Queen J Cae mode)
I totally have nothing to say to defend myself if you think I made too many empty promises. So many ideas, so little time--I have like 10 fanfics on hand and I want to work on them all at the same time. Drat...don't have that many hands and brains. But I'll definitely complete BLOOD LEPRECHAUN before my death--if I don't, you are definitely welcome to come kill me (but then I'll be dead already mEEp). And please do read MY RUINS if you've nothing better to do. Please? I'll cry if you don't...not that anyone cares, er but anyway, I'll really appreciate it.
Thank you again, all readers, reviewers and drawing-viewers. You're all so awesome. A Vashj portrait and a Leprecha portrait are coming.
GG Crono 4: Thank you. You're really nice to me for not (cough) complaining about the pace with which I update. I'm trying to make myself write faster--I think I'll really need to do that, especially now that I'm in summer school and won't have all week to figure out what to do with my chapters.
Roy: Thanks.
DemonGod86: Haha, blame it on Blizzard. They said demon hunters have to ritually blind themselves, so I imagine it to kinda happen like that--except that Illidan wasn't yet a demon hunter. Sophocles can sue me...too bad he's dead. I guess Illidan would have had become a demon hunter before he was thrown in jail (but I haven't finished reading Blizzard's Well of Eternity yet, so I don't know). What you said reminds me of the Count of Monte Cristo who kept his eyes closed all the while he was jailed so that he wouldn't be blind when he got out--but I don't think it will work tho. Yup, I know Tyrande was OOC, but she'd be so boring if I stick to the canon--allow me this little freedom (actually, Knaak's portrayal of her in WoE was a little better, at least she wasn't like hopelessly uninteresting). By the way, thanks for reading My Ruins.(The last sentence sounds obscure if you read it out).
inaam07: Thanks for the long reviews from you. Of course I wouldn't mind. I really appreciate it. You've raised a good number of points about the canon. I am really not a big fan of Maiev, but I think better of her now. My disliking for her has somehow diminished. Maybe I do pity her after all, if I try to look at her the way I did in Chapter Three: Devoured.
And I didn't like the idea of Horde x Forsaken either, but I guess it's too early to tell. We probably should wait until after they released W.O.W. Anyhow, I've decided to delve into the uncharted territory of W.O.W. because of Rowan's parody which inspired me a lot on the interaction between the Forsaken and the Horde.
Tyrande SURELY still have feelings for Illidan. In fact I don't think Furion deserves Tyrande--but then I always opt for the underdog in triangle relationships. I mean, if Furion had been the one singled out in the canon, I would have to help him out (meaning I'd have to write him fanfics...or probably just love letters to cheer him up). Okay, I actually have a whole theory about Tyrande, but I don't think I should bore you with it. But that would be what I base her character upon in my fics--a pious, uncertain and somewhat naïve person, and probably I'll prove myself right.
Thanks for reviewing My Ruins as well.
-A Thousand Lies-: Thank you, if you're reading this, for reviewing My Ruins on both and Unofficial War 3 forums.
I)void: Of course I remember you!! Thanks!! I started drawing when I was 15--I wasn't any good then. I guess it's years of practice that paid off. Well, all I can say is, no matter if it's writing or drawing, just start. And don't give up no matter what :).
BoB: Thank you. There are no plans yet to update Listen, since I currently have my hands full of fiction. But I might review it.
Murg: If you're reading this, thanks, too for reviewing My Ruins. I still like your fic. Wish I could write like you.