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Lethendis' story - Part I: Servitude
A Night elf walked through rows upon rows of book shelves, unable to find exactly what he was searching for. Flicking his forest green hair in agitation, he continued on through the rows. It had to be here, he told himself.
His golden eyes tinted with a slight redness wandered over the covers of thousands of leather bound books, until spotting exactly what he sought - A book, go figure. Bound in hide of the deepest midnight color, dust of age having settled on its spine.
Taking the book from the shelf, the elf blew off some of the dust and sat down in a near by chair, opening the tome to the first page.
The high piched wail pierced the air like a lance, stealing the warmth from everything in the spance of a few moments.
"On your knees, you pitiful wretches!"
The voice was unearthly and commanding, every creature in attendance fell upon their knees in obedience.
He was grinning. If one could call it that. How does a skull grin? Yet at that moment, that was the only fitting description. The lich looked over upon the gathered force with dead, empty sockets.
The aroma of death was overwhelming; any normal creature would have lost conciousness long ago. Yet, those still alive that gathered there were from from "normal".
Death surrounded everything. THe undead soldiers were lined up and staring mindlessly at their master. Still, in attendance sat a handful of Death Knights upon their wretched undead steeds. Still alive, still breathing, and armored in the bones of the dead.
The collection of Knights caugh the Lich's attention.
"Ahh.. the favored of the Lich King himself! Welcome, Captains. Welcome."
In response, each of the Death Knights bowed their heads in acknowledgement. Appart from that, they sat motionless on their mounts, much like their undead companions. The Lich continued on.
"This night we have a new one among us, to join our cause. He has showed much potential and great efforts in his trials."
Again, those in attendance had the distinct impression that the undead creature before them was indeed, grinning.
"Step forward, Lethen."
One Knight of the collection dismounted imediately from his steed, and walked towards the Lich. It was time to claim his prize.
The Death Knight took off his Helm and held it by his side as he shook out his long mane of dark black hair. His green eyes gave off an eerie glow that locked onto the empty sockets of the lich.
"You have done well, young Death Knight. I am sure you eagerly await your reward."
If the deathly chill of the Lich bothered the man, he did not show it in the least.
The Lich turned from the Death Knight and motioned toward a bubbling cauldron behind him with a fleshless hand.
"You have done well indeed, Lethen! Many Paladins have fell to your hands, including your own beloved father."
A cackle bubbled out of the Lich. Family love, it seemed, was one of the sweet things it cheerished.
"You are deserving a better weapon to benefit our cause. Toss away your little toy sword, boy. Rise and stand as a man."
With that, the Lich pulled roughly on the bubbling cauldron, spilling its vile green contents.
The acid, for that was indeed what was in the cauldron, seeped from the overturned cauldron across the blighted soil upon which they stood, stopping just inches from touching Lethen's armor.
Once the acid dissipated and was absorbed by the soil, the true contents were exposed.
The remains of a skeleton littered the ground infront of the young Death Knight.
Meanwhile, the Lich began chanting an arcane spell of dark origin. The words were spoke in a language that none could comprehend, yet their effects were evident imediately. In the midst of its casting, the skeleton's bones glowed with a sickening green light, as some broke and bent, converging together into some odd shaped thing.
A weapon.
The skull at the top suited itself as a mace-head, the handle being made from the vertebrae of the spine. Various other bones jutted out at angles along the handle, giving it a sinister look. Upon completion of the spell, the weapon floated towards Lethen, handle first.
"You will find that the bones will be much stronger than any metal. Your own blood and bones will serve you well indeed."
The Knight understood now; his own 'blood and bones'.
The bones of his Father.
Lethen reached out and grasped the Bone Hammer by the spine-handle and looked up at the Lich.
"Who are you, Death Knight?"
The Lich's wailing voice tore through the air. Lethen didn't hesitate.
"I am Lethen, former Paladin brought up by my cur of a father for the good of the 'Light'. I will destroy anything I am commanded to. I belong to the Lich King and will forever be his hand in all matters."
He had the urge to kneel before the Lich, and gave in to the feeling; his hand never leaving the handle of the hammer.
The Lich looked at him intensely, if one could call it that.
"Who gave you that name, Death Knight?"
Every word was dripping in chilling cold, yet the Knight didn't dare shiver. A sign of weakness would cost him his life, but his answer still came. Only his voice was drenched in bitterness.
"My father."
There was only silence as living and dead eyes watched the scene. Breaking the silence was another cackle from the Lich.
"Then arise, Lethendis! Be reborn in the glory of your King, your true father! Let others hear your name and tremble, for you shall command the might of the Scourge!"
The Death Knight's face was as emotionless as a corpse as he stood facing the Lich.
"I live only to serve."
Booted feet in the darkest metal walked through the blighted and charred land. In the distance, screams of the dying, or soon to be, could be heard. Those sounds were music, that echoed through every inch of the air. Such a vile melody.
His black hair was blowing in the midnight wind, almost appearing auburn from the firelight of the burning houses that tinged the air. The glowing fire-flies of embers peppered the skies above his destination.
Clangs of metal on metal interrupted the song of death that seemed intwined with the wind. The 'would be' defenders were still alive, still fighting.
"Report."
His voice held the slightest hint of magic as it hissed from his lips, as an undead warrior limped over towards him to preform its duty. It spoke in an unearthly and emotionless voice.
"Undead met band of paladins while attack. Cutting through our forces. Only half of living left alive, rest dead from frost wyrms. Battle will be won in nearly--"
Its last statement was cut off as a glimmering head of a hammer smashed down into the undead's skull, leaving the rest of its body to crumple limply to the ground. Behind it, the paladin equipped with the holy hammer and a shining silver shield gasped at the man before him; taking in his appearance. Seeing that he was a living creature.
"You.. foul cur! The Light shall cleanse your kind!"
Lethendis looked at the undead warrior delivering his report with a frown. Turning his attention back to the charging paladin, a look of disgust washed onto his visage. He snapped his bone-hammer out and sneered at the other, older man. Both weapons clashed against one another, dark sparks exploding on impact.
"You dare stand against the might of the Lich King?"
The two men of Darkness and Light gritted their teeth as they glared at each other from weapon point.
"What's wrong with you, man? Look around you! Don't you see what you cause to your race, your people!"
A number of images flashed through the Death Knight's mind at that moment. A man shouting at his wife and child as they huddled in a dark corner. A small boy looking in a mirror at his bruised face. A coffin holding the boy's mother in its embrace, her fragile face still showing the marks of recent beatings. The Knight shut his eyes against the endless flood of images that plagued his mind. Grinding his teeth, he spat at the man of "Light" before him.
"All of your wretched Order deserves to be extinquished from Azeroth. I will achieve that by serving the Lich King."
The elder paladin eyed the young man before him and backed away slowly.
"You don't need to do this, to hurt all these people, and yourself. Even if you no fully comprehend the destruction you are causing."
Lethendis grinned with a crazed expression at his adversary. The bone mace smashed against the paladin's shield with another shower of black sparks.
"I know exactly what I am doing and welcome it! Die, and let your 'light' protect you eternally."
Whipping the mace up and sending it down in a powerful slash, the bone-mace crushed against the shining shield of the paladin with such force that he was knocked to the ground.
On his hands and knees, the paladin gasped for air that was blasted from him by the blow. Lethendis kicked the man in the stomach, flipping him onto his back.
The paladin spat up blood as his head rolled back from the flip. He whispered something, something that was unable to be heard over the shrieks of the near-by battle. 'Take care of my..' water? His water? What was this dying man babbling about? Still, it mattered little to the Death Knight.
Lethendis raised his mace above his head, ready to bring its skull-like head down upon his immobilized opponent.
"You have been found unfit to serve the Lich King. Die."
The mace hissed in the cold wind as if it was eager to drink in the task assigned to it. Yet, right as the mace descended down, about to smash into the chest of the Paladin, a terrible shriek cut into the darkness of Lethendis' mind like a jagged knife.
"Daddy!"
It was too late by the time he heard the high pitched scream. The man wasn't talking about water at all.
His daughter.
In that instant, the paladin's light was extinquished faster than a heart beat. Everything was silent except for the weeping of the child on the battle field of death. The melody was ending.
A skeletal hand without flesh held the child by the throat, her crystal blue eyes misted with fear, pain, and loss.
"Let go of her."
The skeleton did not heed the Death Knight's commanding tone, it stood motionless, holding the little girl in its grasp. It sparked Lethendis' anger like a wild fire to dry leaves.
"I said let her go!"
The skull head of the mace whipped out and smashed into the skeleton's own skull. Skeletal fingers fell loose from the child's neck, and she slipped to her knees gasping for air. Chocking on blighted dust of the skeleton and her own tears.
Lethendis knelt down infront of the little girl, and she looked at him with more fear than she ever felt. The killer of her father.
"Who are you?"
The little girl blinked at him once before she burried her face in her hands, crying. Lethendis' sickly green glowing eyes watched her closely. He didn't know there was a child about. They should be spared from such things as this, he thought. He shook her, asking his question again.
"Who are you?"
Just looking at him seemed to make her cray, but she only bit her lip and looked away from him, even as a chilling voice cut through the air.
"What is the meaning of this?
Empty sockets of the Lich's skull looked from the skeleton on the ground with its skull caved in, to the little girl, and finally to the Death Knight with blood splattered on his face and armor.
Lethendis held his composure, but the little girl was not immune to such things, the icy chill of the Lich's presence chillded her deep inside, like the warmth was stolen from her heart. Even though she feared the Death Knight, she scampered away from the undead monster, clinging to the Knight's leg. Drawing a befuddled look from the Knight. Lethendis respectively returned his gaze to the Lich.
"I request that this girl be places in my custody. This undead servant containing her refused to follow my commands to release her to me."
The Knight motioned towards the broken skeleton. Yet, the Death Knight's statemenet made diabolical laughter errupt from the Lich.
"A knew play thing, eh? As you wish, Death Knight Lethendis."
Glancing once more at the skeleton with its skull crushed, the undead thing struck a black streak of magic into the air next to it. Stepping through the Gate, the Lich was gone in moments.
The door to a burnt out house was shoved open, as Lethendis and the little girl walked into the burnt shack, all that was left of the Scourge's attack.
He still didn't know anything about her except that she was the daughter of the paladin. The paladin that he had killed. She refused to speak to him. She only watched him and would begin to cry whenever he tried to speak to her. Still, he continued to press her for information.
"Where do you live?"
Just a blink, then more tears that stained her face. Taking out a piece of bread from his satchel, he stuck it in her small hands. She didn't need any encouragement to eat it. It was obvious she had not eaten recently.
The Death Knight stood looking out of a dark window, considering the events that had came to pass. It was still dark out, and that darkness seemed to overwhelm and consume everything in sight, like a hungry beast. The same hue of Darkness matched the Knight's soul, as if he was staring at a mirror, while he stood looking into the darkness of the night.
The paladin was a fool to bring his daughter traveling, yet what was pasted was past. She was experiencing shock at seeing her own father destroyed in an instant. Her silence would most likely last a long while, although apparently irony had other motives.
"Stormwind."
Her voice was soft and fragile when she spoke, like a morning breeze. That single word, a place Lethendis knew quite well. He didn't look at the girl as she spoke to him that word, but that was all she needed to say. He was wanted by every 'just' order of humans. Having been there only months before, the Nobles and Paladins of Stormwind were not pleased with Lord Loreseeker being killed by his own son.
Lethendis didn't know this girl's father, but no doubt he had recognized Lethendis as who he was. Lethen, son of the Lord Loreseeker. Quiet little Lethen, always sitting by himself, always alone. No one ever expected the action he took in his life. But nor did any of the other paladins in Stormwind know who his father truely was when away from the Battle field and the Cathedral. Thinking of his father sickened the Death Knight.
But this girl wasn't an abused daughter of a selfish and corrupted man. The paladin's last daying words were about his daughter's well being. How different was her father in comparison to his own. And now they were both dead.
These thoughts shook the Death Knight to the core.
One thought entered his mind, though. A foolsih and dangerous thought.
He had to get her home.
Within an hour, the two souls were traveling on a dark road, surrounded by shadows. The Death Knight had only told the little girl that they were leaving.
"Where are we going?"
Her voice was still as soft as a dying whisper being blown away by a fading breeze. Lethendis didn't slow his pace, didn't look at her, for fear of seeing the hope that would invade her eyes would be too much for him to stand. The single word echoed in his mind again and again.
"Home."
The air was cold. Colder than any living creatures could bear to live in. Yet this was far from a haven of the living. Two fleshless beings could be seen hovering above the ground. Animated by ancient and dark magics, they conversed in ethereal voices that seemed to echo death with every word. The two of them were stationed at the Icecrown, home of the Lich King himself.
"He is an odd one. Tell me, why did you let one such as him into our ranks?"
The speaker's bones were clad in robes that held dark jewels sewn into the rotting fabric. Kel'Thuzad himself.
"My lord, he has shown great efforts in our cause. Why, no matter if he is the son of a paladin! His heart is as black as midnight, he deserves the honor in serving us. Yet.. that girl.."
"Yes, that girl," The elder Lich began,
"The daughter of a paladin, to bring the Light into the darkness of our friend? Why should we allow that dangerous weapon to spurr the minds of our chosen? Clearly this must be stopped."
The lesser Lich nodded his agreement.
"What do you propose we do, my lord?"
"Why, we simply eliminate that barb in our plans! The little girl should be simple prey."
They both joined in an eerie cackle that would've shacken any living being to chills of undeath.
He never called for it. That undead steed was never called throughout the trip. Hunter was bothersome, but Lethendis made sure to keep the child that was with him in his care well fed and rested for the journey they undertook.
But how was he supposed to do this? Knock on the Stormwind doors and drop off a little girl at the Cathedral? It was unlikely he'd leave with his life, if he could even leave at all. What spurred the Death Knight on he couldn't say. Only thinking of the child made him question everything. Already had her childhood been damaged.
They never spoke through the course of the months that it took them to travel from Nother Lordaeron to Southern Azeroth. The little girl didn't complain once to the Dark Knight that took care of her. Despite her young age, she knew that returning to her, and even his 'home', bothered him greatly. Below the black armor and expressionless mask, there was a hurricane of emotions fueling his motices, even if she wasn't sure what those motives were.
They were closer now, almost a week's walk to the Stormwind gates, but they traveled only in darkness, for Lethendis' sake. As they neared the area, however, he shielded himself in a dark brown cloak, hiding his weapons, armor, and identity beneath its folds. The first guard patrol paid them little attention.
A small campfire crackled in the darkness where the little girl and Knight sat. They were to be at Stormwind within a day. On that night he spoke to her, attempting to put a some-what gentle tone in his voice.
"I need you to tell me where you live in Stormwind. We won't have much time once we enter."
"In the Mage Quarter."
A magic user? Maybe her father had some liking for the Arcane? Odd, but not unheard of.
"I will bring you to the Cathedral. If they discover who, what I am, I need you to flee immediately for your home. Once I am gone, tell them anything they question you about."
Her eyes were fixed on the fire, but she nodded. Lethendis turned his gaze from her whcih settled on his gloved hands. He sighed.
"Please forgive me for what I have done."
He didn't look at her, but he knew tears in her eyes were leaking out, no matter how hard she tried to prevent them not to.
Lethendis took his gauntlets off and put his hands to his neck, unbinding a necklace that he was wearing. His eyes drifted over the symbol of a Lion with the Lordaeron "L" insignia.
He placed it in her hands.
"Keep this with you, it will protect you from the shadows of this world."
She was silent.
He shut his eyes as he listened to the wind blow through the trees of Elwynn Forest, even as he felt small arms wrap around him and hug him tightly, even with the heavy armor he wore. Her small voice joined in with the song of the wind that blew through him.
"I forgive you. Thank you."
Lethendis looked down at the small child holding onto himl his mother's amulet around her neck. He felt a single tear slide down his face as he looked at her. Soon after, he too fell into dreams along with the little gril, who he didn't even know the name of. Part of his cold insides felt cracked with what he felt. May the Light protect her.
The next morning, Lethendis gathered his items and threw the heavy cloak around him, the little girl taking hold of his gloved hand with her as they walked towards the walled city.
The sun was shining that day, causing Lethendis to squint, making passing guards eye him, but paying him little attention. A part of him was so used to the darkness; walking in sunlight felt weakening and uneasy.
The Dark Knight's blood was pumping with every step he took, his pulse thundering in his ears. It took great effort not to subconciously crush the little girl's fragile hand.
Approaching the Cathedral of Light, the sound of bells echoed in his mind. This was what he had to do. He had to think of the little girl holding his hand, he had to think about her well being and alter it from the path that he interrupted. He had to hope that her mother, or someone else would care for her in the coming years. Her father's blood is on his hands, he would take care of his daughter.
A small part of him whispered in his mind, hoping the paladins in the Cathedral would recognize him as who he was and cut down his future. Regardless of the whispers, he kept holding the little girl's hand as they both walked up the stone steps of the Cathedral.
Together.