A/N: Sorry it's a day late! This was a very uncooperative chapter to edit lol
For lack of a better word, Soffriel felt alive.
Colours popped; light and shadow contrasted boldly. A breeze swept over his cheekbone, the barest caress. He twitched his ears this way and that, and caught a flood of sounds from down corridors and around corners.
Toward the mess hall there was the rustle of fabric, the creak of leather, and clink of jewelry; the sun had just come up and with it some of the Citadel's denizens. From the hall ahead of him came the scuff of soft-soled boots and the whisper of wolf-steps; that would be Kagra Strangleheart and her mount on their morning patrol. Down the corridor to his left went the retreating echo of hooves. Somewhere to his right, a storey below, in what had been the Oratory, soft clicks underlaid with the shudder of great weight- he remembered the force of those steps though he had never seen or heard Anu'Shukhet walk inside the Citadel. The lighter, quicker steps of her honour guard accompanied her.
It felt like waking up from a nightmare.
At ground level, outside the Citadel, Soffriel heard the familiar belly laugh of the tauren paladin.
"Sure. Come at me! I'll take you both on!"
By Elune! He could even hear the thrum of the holy wards on the Sunwalker's hammer.
There was a loose collection of spectators in the courtyard. Soffriel joined them.
The tauren stood at the centre of the courtyard, one massive hand gripping a large wildcat by the scruff. He held the animal at arm's length with no apparent effort while it thrashed and scratched at his armour. In his other hand he held up the hammer to fend off arrow after arrow fired by a lanky human man, who seemed hesitant to approach him more closely. Soffriel couldn't blame him.
"You were saying something about two against one bein' unfair?" More laughter.
The human lowered his bow in defeat. "Well, in here maybe it isn't."
"Whatcha mean?"
"It's flat. There's no cover. That's all good if you want to smash each other up face to face or blast magic. It's not so great for a hunter though. Poor Kieran there has nowhere to hide. I've got nowhere to hide." The human gestured to the watching crowd. "Am I right?"
There was some nodding and muttered agreement.
The human continued. "Or a rogue. You lot need some shadows and what not to do your sneaking. Right? I'm right aren't I?"
The tauren let go of the cat, which hissed and ran back to its owner. "So what you thinking then?"
"Go outside the courtyard!" yelled someone from the crowd.
"Yeah! There's rocks and stuff on the ice outside the courtyard walls. Places to hide!"
"Re-match! Re-match!"
The tauren shouldered his hammer. "All right. Show me how some rocks and shadows are gonna help you win a match."
The courtyard was completely encircled by walls so the group trooped through the Citadel and out the front doors, around the side of the building and into the shadow of the courtyard wall.
Soffriel followed. The hunter was right- the glacier butted against the flank of the mountain here, slowly scraping a deep gouge into the black rock. The terrain offered a variety of obstacles, treacherous footing, and ambush points. It also offered new seating options for spectators.
Soffriel leapt up onto a large boulder with the grace of a cat and came face to face with a kaldorei woman.
She made a little yelp and scooted sideways.
"Oh! I'm sorry- I didn't know someone was up here. My apologies."
The woman regained her composure, smiled, and waved him off. "No worries. I did not think anyone else might be climbin' up here. Humans, y'know."
Her accent wasn't kaldorei. Soffriel blinked at her. She wasn't kaldorei. Or not entirely. "Yeah, uh, humans." She must be used to people staring. Which didn't make it any more polite.
The woman smiled around delicate tusks and held out a hand. "Peace to ya. I'm Zaphine."
"Soffriel Shadowborn. A pleasure to meet you." He dragged his attention away from her tusks and onto the new battlefield.
The tauren, hammer on his shoulder, stood conversing with his previous human opponent and two others. Soffriel recognized one of them; it was the blond warrior he attacked and wounded during their sparring match the previous week. Shame twisted his conscience.
That shame was doused by a rush of cold horror: Kel'Thuzad's gifts had given Soffriel back his strength and senses- but did nothing to dampen his bloodthirst. For a moment, Soffriel was furious with the lich. He did this on purpose!
Soffriel clenched his fists. Of course Kel'Thuzad knew what he had done. Soffriel was more himself, yes, but he was still a Death Knight, still corrupted, still a terrible weapon-
His fury melted. He had been a weapon from the moment he was resurrected. He reached for the feeling of joy.
"Want to put some money on it?" Zaphine was grinning at him. "Seven silvers say the tauren takes the human."
Her smile caught him off guard. "I've seen the Sunwalker fight too many times to bet against him. But I'll wager seven that the human-"
Out the corner of his eye, Soffriel saw movement, recognized danger, and reacted. In a split second, he flung his arm out, inches from Zaphine's face. He wasn't wearing his armour; it was still mostly on the floor of the lab, so the only thing between steel and skin was two layers of shirt sleeve. He and Zaphine sat frozen, both staring at the arrow pierced through his forearm. The two protruding halves were almost even.
"You're quick."
They both flinched as another arrow thwacked into the rock between them.
"Hey, what the hell-?!"
Soffriel was on his feet, eyes locked on the human hunter. He wasn't sparring with the tauren. The tauren was doing his best to keep the hunter's cat at bay while four other humans with weapons closed in on him.
The hunter nocked another arrow.
Soffriel bared his teeth.
Suddenly he realized that aside from the Sunwalker, the only other Horde people in the crowd were a young orc with a top knot, a tauren woman dressed in civilian clothes- and, he supposed, Zaphine. As he watched, a dwarf kicked the orc's knees out from under him and another helped wrestle him face-down to the ground. The tauren woman managed to punch one of the offenders before a group of them descended on her as well.
"Oh, no, no, no!"
Zaphine scrambled off the rock and sprinted toward the prone orc, curled and protecting his head from a flurry of kicks. "You leave dat boy alone!"
Purpley-black fire flared in her hands.
"Step back, I said!"
The group hesitated. The tauren woman broke free during their brief indecision and went to help the orc to his feet. One of the humans closest to her began to reach with a dagger-
Soffriel moved like lightning. He grabbed the man's wrist and bent it up behind his back until he dropped the knife.
"What are you doing?"
"An ambush!" The Sunwalker swung his hammer in a great arc before him, trailing a crescent of golden fire, no longer in mock combat. "Real smooth. Y'all in on it?"
An elderly human woman took a step away from the crowd. "I have no part in this. Shame on you all-"
"Then piss off!"
She gasped and looked between the crowd of ready fighters and the tauren woman with her arm around the orc's shoulders, frozen in shock. Soffriel threw the human aside and moved in front of Zaphine and the tauren as she helped the orc to stand.
"Why are you attacking these people?"
"Why?" The blond warrior stepped up to face Soffriel. "Are you thick? Why do you think? The Horde's attacked us everywhere- their Warchief sundered the Vale in Pandaria and unleashed some evil thing into the world-"
"The Vale?"
"They're everywhere and everywhere they go, they kill and they burn and they take."
The old woman spoke up again. "Don't stoop to their level. This isn't how an honourable member of the Alliance acts."
"Only a coward or a traitor would defend the Horde. Which one are you?"
The woman covered her mouth with one hand, then fled toward the Citadel.
"Coward!"
Now the blond was in Soffriel's face again. "What about you? You're going to stand there with that half-breed thing and tell me they don't deserve some justice?"
Zaphine snarled. "Half? No, human. I be the sum of two great people an' this? This is not deserved."
"The Horde have done nothing in Icecrown." Soffriel wasn't carrying his runeblade. He'd left that in the lab too, walked out with nothing but clothes and happiness. "And Icecrown is neutral ground."
"Good thing we're not in the Citadel then."
"Icecrown is the whole area, idiot!" hollered the Sunwalker. "You going to explain to the Lich King why you're breakin' her rules?"
Some of the crowd hesitated again but the blond warrior unsheathed his sword. "There is no neutral ground in Azeroth. Just places where the Horde hasn't attacked yet!"
Someone made a grab for Zaphine or the orc, Soffriel couldn't tell which, and before they could reach their target, his hands were on their throat.
"So you're going to attack people who have done you no harm?" He stared into the eyes of a pale human woman dressed in leathers. She had both hands on his, clawing at his grip. He threw her back into the crowd. "The old woman is right- what you're doing is dishonourable and senseless."
"What's a fiend like you know about honour, huh, Death Knight? How many innocent people have you killed?"
There was a sound like tearing fabric and the Sunwalker burst through the crowd in a blur of gold to stand with Soffriel and Zaphine.
"Hey, troll girl, you a mage?"
"Warlock," Zaphine replied. She said something more in orcish that Soffriel didn't understand.
"Well, shit. How 'bout you, sister? Druid?"
"I- I write romance novels."
"An' you?" He pointed to the orc.
"I'm a tailor."
"Awesome." The Sunwalker gripped his hammer and spoke in orcish again. It didn't sound positive.
Zaphine edged back, touched Soffriel's hand.
"He's going to cover us so we can make a break for the Citadel," she said in Darnassian.
"There's twenty-some of them! He can't fight them all. They'll kill him!"
"Soffriel, they're going to kill all of us-"
The hunter drew and fired from six feet away and the orc fell back, clutching at the arrow in his throat.
"No!" The tauren woman dropped to her knees beside him, but there was nothing she could do. "This is murder."
"It's one less orc is what it is."
Soffriel batted another arrow out of the air almost before he realized it was there. "Don't do this. Please."
"I'm done talking."
The blond warrior plunged forward and three other humans accompanied him. The Sunwalker pushed them back, snorted and rushed them. Soffriel found himself facing the rest with no armour and no weapon. The arrow was still stuck through his forearm; he snapped off the pointed half and held it like a dagger. Zaphine moved to stand at his left and the tauren romance novelist moved to stand at his right. Soffriel bared his teeth and, reluctantly, let the scarlet haze rise in his vision.
Then the mob descended on them.
Soffriel's make-shift dagger ended up lodged in someone's ribs and he couldn't pull it out in time before he had to dodge a jabbing polearm. Beside him, Zaphine's hands glowed with sinister light but she was quickly shoved back by a dwarf wielding his shield like a battering ram. Soffriel twisted, grabbed the dwarf by the face, claws tearing through his cheeks, and hurled him against the mob. Zaphine struggled to her feet. The hunter's cat slipped through the crowd and tackled her.
She screamed but Soffriel had both hands full grappling with another assailant.
The tauren woman skidded across the ice to Zaphine's aid, locked an arm around the cat's neck and pulled it backwards. Soffriel glimpsed Zaphine holding one hand against her throat, eyes wide with terror.
He head-butted his opponent, kicked him back, ducked a short sword, twisted away from an axe blow. His claws sank blindly into flesh between hardened leather and chainmail; he tightened his grip, heard a shout of pain, and felt warmth dripping from his fingers.
Blood.
Someone cried out, maybe his prey, maybe some other. His other hand found a second gap in their armour. His claws hooked into flesh. Don't let go. Mine now. Make them bleed! The person grabbed at his throat but they couldn't choke what didn't draw breath. Soffriel bore his prey to the ground, found their neck, claws sank into heat-
A hard kick slammed into his ribs, not enough to dislodge him. Finish the kill!
Rough hands grabbed his shoulders, someone else yanked his hair-
He turned on them, one hand gripping a sword he didn't remember pulling from the body beneath him, the other gripping a wet mess of flesh. The one pulling him by the hair- their wrist was close to his teeth-
Suddenly the air shuddered. The ice reverberated in reply and threw them all to the ground.
For a moment, silence pounded in his ears. Then the ice groaned. It lifted, pushed Soffriel back until he slid up against Zaphine's limp body, divided the group into Alliance and Horde. It broke and buckled beneath the murderous Alliance members. The shards shifted, twisted, grasped with glittering teeth until every one of the attackers was suspended by ankle or hand or neck in freezing bonds over gaping holes in the glacier.
"This is not the answer to your grief."
Ysadéan walked toward them, one hand out-stretched, dainty fingers aglow with soft, green light.
"Earthmother's teeth," breathed the Sunwalker.
"I will release you and you will leave this place. Take your hate and do not return."
The clutching shards reorganized themselves, retreated into the cracks until the glacier was smooth and whole again.
Some of the group rose- those who could- and fell back toward the Citadel. Some remained: dead, injured, stubborn, or gathering their fallen comrades.
"Do not test me," she whispered.
There was a volley of curses but none of the group seemed keen to challenge her. Soffriel and the others watched them leave in silence. When they were gone, Ysadéan slipped into her deer form and sank to the ground.
Soffriel ran to her. "Ysa…!" He knelt, put his arms around her neck, and leaned his cheek against her black fur.
"Uh…"
Zaphine, the Sunwalker, and the romance novelist stared down at them. Zaphine had four deep claw marks across her neck and chest, bleeding freely, but she was standing with the help of the tauren woman.
"So… thank you."
"Earthmother bless you, cousin."
Ysadéan closed her faintly glowing eyes.
"Is she okay?"
"She will be. She needs to rest."
The Sunwalker knelt, gathered a startled Ysadéan in his arms, and picked her up. "We're going to get you some hot soup and a beer. We owe you that much at the least." He set out for the Citadel. "Beer for the deer!"
"I'll be right behind you."
Soffriel turned to the bloody ice. Three of the Alliance attackers lay dead on the glacier, left behind by their brethren. He ignored them and went to the hapless orc tailor. At least his death was swift. That couldn't be said of the human man with a chunk of his throat missing.
Soffriel ignored his bloody claws and gathered the orc in his arms.
Jaina winced as she pulled her shirt on over her head. Her shoulders ached and her elbows were stiff. She smoothed the fabric with pale fingers. For a moment, she debated her hair; she preferred to put it up and keep it out of the way, especially on a day when she would be doing or at least over-seeing magical work, but her elbows already hurt too much to spend minutes placing pins.
Instead, she combed it out and let it fall loose over her shoulders.
Kel'Thuzad's consciousness brushed hers. She felt urgency in his presence.
What is it?
There's been an incident between some Alliance and Horde.
What sort of incident?
People are dead.
Jaina shook her head. It was only a matter of time.
Agreed.
She picked up her cane and left her bed chamber.
Who started it?
A group of mostly humans.
Who ended it?
Ysadéan. Unexpected but apparently she was quite convincing.
Did she catch any of the perpetrators?
No, but I did.
Good. I'll be there shortly.
The Citadel's foyer was a vaulted, cavernous place. Jaina remembered, after Arthas' fall, how some heroes from both sides set up temporary camp in the open space to get out of the winter wind. Horde and Alliance forget about fighting each other only when attacked by something more urgent.
Kel'Thuzad held three prisoners in an alcove near the front doors of the Citadel. It was once a guard station, partially enclosed, and had not attracted any curious on-lookers so far. With him was Soffriel and the ubiquitous tauren paladin. The left side of the paladin's face was a bloody wreck; his horn hung by shreds of flesh and keratin.
When Jaina stepped inside the alcove, she realized there was also a black-furred deer standing beside the tauren. Ysadéan. She had shed both antlers now and was all but invisible in the shadows save for her silvery eyes.
Jaina folded her hands on the head of her cane and looked over the three offenders. Two were human; one was a dwarf. None were unscathed and all of them looked surly.
"Explain."
A bearded human man spoke first. "We were just taking out the trash, Lady Proudmoore."
"Did you start this fight with the intent to kill?"
The man hesitated but the dwarf spoke up. "Hell yes, we did."
"Why?"
"What he said- just taking out the trash."
"Were you unaware that Icecrown is neutral ground?"
The second human muttered something under her breath and the dwarf snorted in reply. Jaina made eye contact and cocked her head but the woman wasn't forthcoming.
Soffriel cleared his throat. "She said 'neutral territory- now we know she isn't part of the Alliance anymore'."
The woman was pale but her stare was pure hatred. "Anywhere the Horde walks isn't neutral. They're warbringers." She flicked her gaze to the tauren paladin. "They're animals."
Jaina watched the woman without speaking for a long moment.
Here, in the company of the varied undead, Jaina was insulated from the constant strife in Azeroth. She didn't forget it- couldn't close her eyes without seeing the ruins of Theramore in her dreams- but she didn't face the stark truth of it on a daily, personal basis.
Azeroth was a deeply divided world. Over and over, the actions of one side sparked retaliation from the other, on old battlegrounds and new shores and each generation passed down their pain, remembered the wrongs done to their forebears by long-dead foes. Revenge became tradition and willful ignorance became history.
It bred people like this woman who thought strangers deserved death because of a red flag.
Jaina was at a loss for words. There could be no dialogue between herself and these people. There was nothing that Jaina could say that would change their minds and there was no explanation that could make her comprehend their actions.
She looked to the dwarf, who glared from beneath lowered brows, and the human man, who turned away from her with disdain.
"Icecrown is neutral ground. If you don't like that-" Jaina stabbed a finger towards the Citadel's entrance. "-there's the door."
Kel'Thuzad released the trio from his holding spell, though Jaina could feel the heavy threat of worse magic waiting in the air.
The bearded man tipped his chin up and sneered. "You're not the person you used to be, Lady Proudmoore."
"No. I'm not."
His expression faltered under her gaze and he joined his co-conspirators in a quick exit.
Jaina let out a deep breath. "How many died?"
"One of ours." The paladin looked to Soffriel. "How many of the others?"
"Three were left on the ice. They took some injured comrades with them."
There was a long silence. Jaina turned to the tauren paladin. "Let me be clear: you are welcome here. If you have thoughts of vengeance, you are not."
The man nodded. "I'm not one for grudges, Lady King." He clapped a hand on Soffriel's shoulder. "C'mon, kid."
Ysadéan dipped her head in a bow and followed them.
Once she was out of ear-shot, Jaina turned to the lich. "What did Ysadéan do out there? She stopped twenty-five people from killing each other. That's not a feat your average druid can manage."
The lich pursed his lips. "The young warlock explained what she saw but… Well. I doubt her account."
"Why?"
"There are two things I know about the Druids of the Antler: they like secrets, and they're obsessed with liminal spaces- the places where edges overlap. The waxing and waning moon, equinoxes, the space between life and death." He raised his eyebrows. "And the places where the Emerald Dream touches the mortal world. Some druids can make small, temporary changes to the Dream."
"You're kidding me."
"I imagine it takes quite some time to learn but Ysadéan is a thousand years old if she's a day. Probably more."
Jaina leaned closer. "You're kidding me!" Then she whispered, "Is she- you've got some experience with dragons. She's not a dragon is she?"
"She's just an old, well-practised druid. I'm guessing she gave the Emerald Dream a little tug and showed the mere mortals a bit of nightmare."
Jaina pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "By the Light. It's too early for all of this."
"As you said, this was inevitable."
"No, I meant I need coffee and something to eat."
"Ah. That's much easier to solve."
There was something a bit off about the atmosphere in the Citadel this morning, but it wasn't intrusive enough to dampen Kinndy's spirit. Today Jaina was going to start teaching her advanced material manipulation. Kinndy was already good at making water from ice and conjuring air currents from water droplets and heat, but now she would learn how to break down material objects into pure energy for new purposes.
First, Kinndy visited the mess hall to grab some breakfast.
"Good morning, Martin!" It was only polite to say hello to the Death Knight, who was idly perusing blueprints for some kind of tesselated floorplan with a squat furry creature she didn't recognize. It had big claws and prominent fangs and Kinndy gave it a wide berth.
"Ysadéan, is that you? Wow, your deer form is beautiful!" Ysadéan didn't shapeshift to return the greeting verbally but she nodded her head and gave a little prance.
"Hi Avarri! Hi Fayla!" Both of them looked unusually serious but replied with smiles. Hmm. Something was definitely up. She would investigate further after today's lessons.
When she got to the lower floor, the door to the lab was open and warm light flooded into the hallway. Kinndy was set to burst into the room with energetic greetings for all (having decided to kill- or at least annoy- Kel'Thuzad with cheerfulness) when she heard someone coughing. It wasn't a 'clearing your throat' or 'mild cold' sort of cough. It was hard, uncontrollable, body-shaking coughing, the sort that made you cry and gag.
And it sounded like Jaina. Finally, the coughing subsided into weak sniffles and a breathy moan of pain.
"Dammit." Jaina rarely swore. "Should've taken… the time-" Small cough. "-to put up my hair." Another sniffle. "Now I've got blood in it."
"Drink." That was Kel'Thuzad.
There was a long silence.
"Where'd you learn to do that?"
"From a feral sister who would otherwise let all manner of wilderness nest in her hair."
Jaina's chuckle turned into another small cough.
"Thank you."
Kinndy stayed in the hallway, clutching her staff with both hands. She sounds so sad. And the exchange was... Kinndy was sure they didn't know anyone was listening. Okay Kinndy: you have two choices.
She took a deep breath and walked into the room.
"Jaina? Are you okay?"
Jaina looked up from where she was hunched over a steaming mug of peppermint tea. Her hair was in pretty milkmaid braids that circled her head like a crown and her cheeks were wet.
"Oh, Kinndy." She scrubbed the heel of her hand across one cheek. "I- No. I'm not okay."
Kinndy's heart dropped.
"What happened?"
Jaina sat up and Kinndy saw how much effort it took. She swallowed a sip of the tea before answering and grimaced.
"The Lich King's power is not meant for a living bearer, and I cannot carry it forever."
"What do you mean 'not forever'? Are you- please tell me what's happening." Kinndy rushed to her side and held onto her elbow. "Please."
Jaina laid her hand over Kinndy's. "It wants me undead." She squeezed Kinndy's fingers. "It's killing me."
For a second, Kinndy was struck mute. "Can I- can someone- Is there something- is there anything-?"
"There's not." She glanced at Kel'Thuzad. "Nothing but little things."
"If there's any little thing- anything- I can do-"
Jaina smiled and it was a little less sad than her voice. "I want you to be the best mage you can possibly be."
Kinndy's cheeks flushed with anger. Tears rolled over her eyelashes. "Then why didn't you tell me? Why did you agree to teach me? If you told me- if you told me I would've-"
Jaina took both of her hands and looked her in the eye. "I lied to myself. I wanted to believe that I would recover."
Kinndy squeezed her eyes shut and gripped Jaina's fingers. "You should have told me."
"I am so sorry-"
"Because I would've come sooner! I could've been with you months ago! And it would've saved me making up excuses and trying to make myself believe in them because when I saw you? When I was with Roxie? I knew." She threw herself into a hug and pressed her face into the fur trim on Jaina's tunic. "I really tried to convince myself it was a bad idea. But if you told me-!"
She pushed away from Jaina.
"What else aren't you telling me?"
"Nothing." Jaina dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve. "Wait. There's one more thing. I was going to tell you today anyway."
Kinndy braced herself.
"I have another apprentice. Well, half an apprentice I suppose. I'll be teaching both of you the basics of higher magic, but he will be otherwise trained by Kel'Thuzad."
Kinndy had forgotten about the lich. She whirled- yup, he was still in the room. At least he had the decorum to seclude himself in the chair by the stove as far from them as he could be.
"Hold up. He has an apprentice? Him? You're letting him-"
"Yes."
"...is that a good idea?"
"That remains to be seen."
Kinndy glanced from Kel'Thuzad's back to Jaina's plaited hair. "Okay. But I've got my eye on him."
Jaina muffled a snicker.
"My makeup is all smudged." Kinndy rubbed a spot of sparkly pink on her sleeve, slightly darker than the fabric. "Do I have time to go clean up before our lessons?"
"Yes, of course."
Kinndy got herself cleaned up but she barely remembered the walk from the lab and back. She arrived to warmth and the smell of old books; the ideal picture of scholarly comfort. And, despite Jaina's revelation, it was perfect. Somehow Kinndy felt more relaxed now than she had since her arrival at the Citadel.
She walked up to the desk. "Here. I brought you a muffin. A little thing. I think they're apple today."
Jaina beamed. "Thank you."
"No muffin for me?"
"Um... you don't eat. I mean, unless do you?"
"Not this morning, apparently."
At that moment, there was a soft knock on the doorframe.
Jaina beckoned. "Perfect timing, Soffriel."
Kinndy turned and recognized the man. She had seen him around the Citadel, usually with Ysadéan but sometimes with Brok and Avarri. He always looked a little lost and kept to himself.
"It's nice to meet you." Kinndy held out her hand. Held it up; he was more than twice her height. He came closer and Kinndy fought the urge to back away. All the Death Knights made her nervous and here was an extra-tall one, dressed all in black with a few pieces of pointy armour, long white hair, glowing eyes, and an inscrutable expression.
"Kinndy, this is Soffriel Shadowborn. Soffriel, Kinndy Sparkshine."
Soffriel hesitated, then crouched and took her hand.
"Hello."
His voice raised the hair on the back of her neck.
"Er, is it rude for me to kneel down? I've met very few gnomes."
Sure, the echo-y part of his voice was creepy but other than that it was soft and calm.
"No, it's fine. It's not rude at all."
He made an expression that might have been the beginning of a smile.
Jaina handed each of them a notebook. "Let's begin. Now, before we get into the technicalities of material manipulation today, we're going over ethical uses of magic."
Kinndy and Soffriel both turned to look at Kel'Thuzad.
"Not my strongest subject. I'll be getting a muffin."
Long after Kinndy and Soffriel left, Kel'Thuzad returned to the lab. It was dark; the stove held only embers and the lanterns had burned out. In the gloom, the slightest light suggested the shapes of furniture and spines of books on the shelves.
He halted. Before him was a patch of black so thorough that it stood out from the mere darkness around him.
"I misjudged you."
The black shape unfolded into a woman dressed in white robes and a fringed veil. "All predators do."
"Clever. What do you want?"
Ysadéan turned away. Despite her layered robes, she made not a sound. "Sometimes, when the night is dark enough, I can still see the stars. When winter is upon Icecrown, I will be able to see the stars again. I want only a warm place where I may wait for the night."
"And what else?"
"To see that my offering was not made in vain."
Kel'Thuzad could only see where her fingers trailed along the edge of the desk because her skin was darker than the shadowed wood. The white of her sleeve seemed blinding.
"What do you want, my child?"
"What I want doesn't trouble you."
"Humour my curiosity."
Kel'Thuzad watched her fingers find the cold metal of the Helm of Domination where it rested on a pedestal beside the desk.
"Freedom."
She picked up the Helm. "What will you do with it?" The armour looked strange in her hands- contrived and small.
"Enjoy it."
"How?"
"Freely."
She turned toward him, the swinging fringe a brief bright crescent over her smoky eyes. "You have no idea what you want. You have nowhere to go. You have no one. You have no power and nothing to reach for beyond the obvious."
"Ouch."
She ran one finger down the edges of the Helm, edges that had branded Jaina's cheeks. "When was the last time you were truly happy?"
Kel'Thuzad went to light the stove. "Right before I found you in here."
"Kel'Thuzad." Somehow, she broke his name into its basic parts with her tone of voice, changed it from his own special word to a generic description. Son of autumn ice. A foundling's name; an orphan's name. "Do not be afraid of small pleasures."
He turned around to see her replace the Helm on its pedestal. "Small pleasures are all I have, Malorne'adin."
"So would your freedom offer greater pleasures?"
"It depends on the price."
"Then be satisfied with what you have."
She moved to the door, slipped into her deer form, and left without a sound.
Jaina didn't feel the cold- it was the one aspect of the Lich King's powers that she actively enjoyed. The days were getting colder. She sat on the roof of the Citadel and watched the sun set. It stayed far enough below the horizon now that real night had begun to take hold, at least for a few hours. The stars would come out in handfuls as the sky darkened. At the deepest part of night, the starlight was bright enough to make shadows.
At the moment though, Jaina was content to appreciate the sunset.
Just as her mind began to wander, the air prickled and sparked, and then there was a soundless crack that frizzed the ends of her hair. She knew a portal when she felt one, and found the source just as the visitors began to look around.
They were shrewd; the portal deposited them at the foot of the stone stairs leading to the Citadel's front entrance.
Jaina stood at the top of the stairway, hands folded atop her cane.
"I don't like sudden nighttime visitors wearing hooded cloaks," she said. "Name yourselves and the reason for your presence."
The shorter of the pair put back his hood. It was Khadgar.
"Apologies for our cryptic arrival, Lady Proudmoore. The fewer eyes that might find us here, the better for all. May we come in?"
She watched the taller of the pair. Pointed ears made their hood flare and one green glowing eye returned her stare.
"You may."
She bid the guardians open the doors and stood aside as the pair entered. Then she cast a barrier around the three of them, to keep out of sight and mute their voices.
The other person lowered his hood to reveal blond hair and the collar of a scarlet shirt.
"I am Lor'themar Theron, Regent Lord of Quel'Thalas."
Jaina made a shallow bow. "Welcome to Icecrown, Regent Lord. To what do I owe this clandestine honour, gentlemen?"
Lor'themar stepped forward. "It is a lack of honour that brings us to you, Lich King. Garrosh Hellscream no longer leads with the best interest of the Horde in mind. He has only his interests."
"I've heard there is some unrest among the Horde."
Khadgar said nothing but Jaina saw him raise an eyebrow.
"Unrest, yes. But nothing overt until now."
"And now?"
"Now Vol'jin, Chieftain of the Darkspear trolls, stands in open defiance of Hellscream's rule. Hellscream's Kor'kron attack the Darkspear people as we speak." A muscle twitched in Lor'themar's jaw. "I will not see one madman drive his people to ruin. Again."
Jaina's pulse quickened. "A rebellion?"
"Yes." Lor'themar's one good eye fixed on her. "You have fought beside the Horde before. Thrall still considers you a friend and Highlord Saurfang speaks well of you. I am here to ask for your aid."
Jaina's mind jumped back to the day of Theramore's destruction. So many small details were etched in her memory: the heat of the magic-blasted ground beneath her feet, Kinndy's hand holding hers as she asked for apprenticeship, the consuming guilt- and Anu'Shukhet's deep purr as she spoke.
"...If their leaders push them in a direction they do not wish to go, they too will find new allies. And if they do, that is your chance to rise, my friend."
"Yes," said Jaina. "Yes, I will aid you."
It's time to rise.
