Song: Fully Completely - The Tragically Hip


"So, uh, people are staring."

News travelled fast to- and through- a city full of mages and the Scourge participation in the siege of Orgrimmar was still hot gossip a week later.

"What should we do? There's at least one reporter following us," Kinndy hissed.

Soffriel paused and half-turned to look behind them. "Two, I think."

"If they want to talk, they need to ask." Jaina had never been interviewed by anyone except schoolkids in Theramore. "But if they start to bother your parents..." She said it just loudly enough to reach their nosy followers.

"Oh please no. My parents would love to talk to reporters. Soffriel, can you stand outside the house and like… look menacing? Just cross your arms. And narrow your eyes. Do that thing where you sort of part your lips to show your fangs. Perfect."

The door to Kinndy's parents' house opened and all of Soffriel's intended menace was blithely ignored by the Sparkshines' combined enthusiasm. Jaina steered him aside as Kinndy rushed inside to reunite with her parents.

"Are all gnomes like this?" he whispered.

"I think this might be a Sparkshine thing. Look out, they'll come for you next."

"Er…"

"You're going to be called a handsome boy and then they'll try to feed you."

"May I accompany you to the library?"

Jaina suppressed a chuckle. "Of course."

They stayed long enough for tea but not long enough for Kinndy's parents to start showing off her childhood spellbooks and first year Kirin Tor student robes. It was late afternoon when Jaina and Soffriel left Kinndy and strolled toward the Dalaran Library. Thankfully, the reporters had apparently given up for the day. Jaina didn't fancy climbing the staircase to the library's open doors with an attentive audience.

"Ah! Lady Proudmoore! What an unexpected pleasure." Khadgar appeared at the top of the stairs, a book tucked into the crook of his elbow. "What brings you to Dalaran?"

"It's good to see you again, Archmage." Jaina pushed herself to climb with grace. "We just dropped Kinndy off with her parents. I'm glad to see you're doing well."

He smiled broadly. "Nothing an hour of holy light and three false teeth couldn't fix." He turned to Soffriel. "And you must be the Lady's second apprentice?"

"I am Soffriel Shadowborn."

"Soffriel, this is Khadgar, Archmage of the Kirin Tor."

"It is an honour, Archmage."

"Actually, Khadgar, you have impeccable timing. I'd like permission to access some of the library's more exclusive material, if I may."

Khadgar's expression faltered for a split second; Jaina had no doubt that Soffriel caught it too.

"I'm happy to help you."

"Thank you."

"And you, Soffriel? Are you here to assist your mentor?"

"No, Archmage. I'm... on vacation. Is there a section in your library about human history? I have lately realized how little I know of your people."

"Of course. This way!"

Jaina and Khadgar left him browsing the public section of the library and headed into the restricted rooms.

As soon as they passed the first set of doors bearing stern calligraphy that read "Authorized Persons Only", Khadgar stopped.

"What are you looking for, Jaina?"

"The Book of Medivh."

He nodded but didn't proceed. "Why?"

Jaina rested both hands on the head of her cane. "I'm looking for some perspective. I doubt the Book contains any specific insight on the Lich King but I hope to gain better understanding of how demonic magic works. What I've learned from studying the Helm of Domination doesn't entirely make sense to me."

"You're studying the Helm?"

"Yes."

"Is this wise?"

Jaina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Don't betray me now, lungs.

"Khadgar, I'm dying. The Lich King's power is killing me."

She heard him gasp and opened her eyes. He reached out then lowered his hand when she didn't react. "I had no idea. Jaina, I..."

"It's okay. I've come to terms with it. But before I go, I want to learn as much as I can about the power. If I can discover a way to end the Lich King…"

"There's nothing that can be done?"

She gave a half-smile. "I'm supposed to relax and keep from using magic as much as possible."

He mirrored her smile. "Well, the library is a good place to do that."

They continued on.

"Khadgar, if I may ask- have you spent much time studying the Book yourself?"

"I have. Though a lot of my study has treated the Book less as a thing of great power and more of an insight into Medivh's mind state. Reading between the lines, if you will."

"I understand."

"If I may ask a similar thing- do your studies of the Helm make some sense of Arthas' betrayal?"

Jaina didn't answer immediately. "No. The Helm is just a magical artifact. A powerful and complex artifact but not something I associate with his memory. Hm. Perhaps if Frostmourne were still intact it might be different."

They came to the final room and Khadgar waved his hand to reveal the door to the Special Collection.

"Frostmourne was the sword?"

"Yes."

"How did it interact with the Helm?"

"Frostmourne was a lure." She watched Khadgar carefully remove the Book from a high shelf where it was the lone volume. "The sword promised power to whoever would wield it. It claimed the souls of those it killed and imprisoned them; it drew its power from those captive souls. It also claimed the soul of the wielder. Have you studied the nature of a soul?"

"In a philosophical way or a practical way?"

"Practical."

He set the Book on the table between them. "Not intentionally. What I know I've picked up in passing. I know that pondering souls is the domain of both the holy and the profane. Given that- and I mean no offense here- you very likely know more than I."

"No offense taken." There was a sharp pain in her chest and she stopped breathing for a moment to let her cramped muscles relax. Once it subsided, she cleared her throat and continued. "I'm not well-studied in the matter of soul magic itself, but you're right- it does intersect with necromancy. All living things have a soul. Death parts the soul and body. That's a natural process. Holy resurrection heals fatal wounds and reunites the living body and willing soul."

She touched the cover of the Book and to her surprise, it murmured beneath her fingers.

"Necromancy works with the relationship between soul and body, but in several different ways. A powerful necromancer- or a powerful artifact like Frostmourne- can strip the soul out of a living body, rendering the body undead. Without any further work, undead made in that way are mindless, though physically intact. On the other hand, undead with intelligence and personality- Death Knights, other necromancers, lieutenants- have the soul removed so the body becomes undead, then the soul is returned, usually with some adjustments made to it. It's a complicated process. But the most common- and easiest- form of necromancy is to pull a soul back to a corpse. It doesn't have to be the right soul; any soul will do to reanimate a dead body."

"That's a horrifying thought."

"I agree. Being returned to the wrong body sends the soul searching for the right body but the search manifests as indiscriminate violence toward the living."

"Only the living?"

"Yes. The violence isn't natural, per se. It's often written into the spells."

Khadgar raised an eyebrow. "That implies the possibility of removing it."

"I haven't figured that out yet."

"Hm."

"Anyway, Frostmourne pulled Arthas' soul from his body and left him undead, but it allowed him access to his soul so he retained memories and skills." She paused. "That's how a lich is made: remove the soul from the body, place the soul in something else- the phylactery- and tie them together. When a lich's body is destroyed, the binding is broken but the soul survives, contained and unable to leave our realm. It only needs to be re-connected to a new body."

"And if their phylactery is also destroyed, the soul leaves as a soul should." Khadgar nodded to himself. Before she could continue, he asked: "What's to stop another necromancer from re-capturing their soul and binding it again?"

"Technically, nothing, but a necromancer capable of doing so would have to be very powerful and very skilled."

"Then a lich can't be reliably killed by destroying both their body and phylactery."

"Not reliably, but liches are still people. Having their body and phylactery destroyed is so traumatic it mimics true death. To my knowledge, none have survived."

"By the Light…" He raised his eyebrows. "I'm going to assume this doesn't apply to Kel'Thuzad?"

Jaina carefully opened the Book. "Honestly, I have no idea. Arthas killed him and buried his body but the Lich King kept his soul anchored in this world somehow, though I don't know how or where. Once Arthas turned, he dropped Kel'Thuzad's mortal remains in the Sunwell and used the power there to resurrect him. Arthas was not a skilled necromancer, regardless of the Lich King's power, and Kel'Thuzad's resurrection was essentially done through brute force."

Khadgar pursed his lips but said nothing.

"Frostmourne was the tool of undeath but the Helm provides the actual connection to the Lich King's powers. That was the relationship between them."

"And- again, forgive me- and there is nothing in those powers that corrupts the mind?"

"If there is, I haven't felt it. It may have been a part of Frostmourne."

She began to page through the Book. The beginning was written in Common, with some high elven mixed in. She flipped ahead and watched Medivh's handwriting go from elegant and legible to broken, misspelled scrawl, and then demonic runes.

"Can you read this, Khadgar?"

"No." He folded his arms over his chest and directed his gaze elsewhere.

Jaina leaned her elbows on the table and drew a shaking breath. "Can you please get me a chair?"

"Of course."

The runes wriggled on the page. The edges of the letters began to fray and pop like static. Jaina furrowed her brow. That didn't happen before.

Khadgar returned with a chair. Jaina flipped back to the readable sections of the Book.

"Thank you."

"Didn't Kel'Thuzad copy the Book?"

"Only the parts he liked. I've looked through his notes but-" She carefully turned pages until she found one with lines of the lich's looping cursive crammed into the corners and margins. "His methods of transcription are-"

"Appalling."

"I was going to say 'arrogant' but that works too."

"He wrote in all of the books he stole. In ink."

"He always assumed that he would keep them so he could use his stupid flagging reference system. Except the Book, where he copied it and flagged it." Jaina shook her head. "He does it with fiction too. Flags parts he likes."

"Unbelievable."

She looked up. "You- and all the Kirin Tor- keep coming back to Kel'Thuzad. Why don't you come talk to him?"

Khadgar frowned. "I doubt there's anything he could say that would interest me. And I don't think it would look good to the Council if I spent time talking to our worst traitor."

"True." She abruptly turned away and coughed into her black handkerchief. "I really do appreciate you being cordial with me, Khadgar. I know it must cost you some of the Council's trust."

"Well, I'm still Archmage so they can't be that upset." He paced to one end of the small room and turned. "But I don't remember the Kirin Tor being so-" He gestured vaguely. "-sequestered. Insular, I suppose. Of course, I was younger and paid less attention to the political side of magic then."

Jaina nodded. "I know what you mean."

"The Council has qualms with my studies in Outland. They mistrust the strange things- strange magic- strange beings!- from beyond Azeroth. I wish I could say that they're wrong, but although I have found great Light in the story of Outland, there is darkness as well."

"But…?"

He paced back to the table. "I don't know if there should be a 'but', Jaina. When we were young and didn't pay attention to politics, I think I would be comfortable with a 'but'. We had no responsibilities then except learning for the sake of learning. Now, though, with everything that we- the Kirin Tor, the Alliance, Azeroth- have gone through and all that I've been made aware of, I think it's best to balance what we can do against what we should do."

"What we can learn against what we should learn."

"I think we should question our reasons for pursuing certain knowledge."

"I agree."

"But…?"

"No but. I think it's imperative to ask those questions." She tapped her fingers on the table. "Okay, one but. There will always be disagreement about who draws the line and where."

"Of course! In the grand scheme of things-"

"No, I mean on a personal level. We can talk about Azeroth and the balance of the broader universe when we have to but most of these decisions are made by, and for, relatively small groups, or individuals." She paused. "What would you study in Outland if you went back? What did you study?"

Khadgar stopped pacing. "Truthfully, I studied whatever came my way. It's a whole other world. Much of what I learned was on the grand scheme of things- the history of gods and titans- the Void and the Light- it's fascinating! And it betters our understanding of- of everything, really. The origin of things and how they changed to be what they are today; the histories in our blood and the forces that continue to shape us. The grand scheme is personal because our actions influence the world around us in ways we may not realize or intend."

Jaina chewed her lip in thought. "You're right. Yes. You're absolutely right. Our actions… and inactions." She looked up. "You could go back to Outland and study, but the effect of your absence- It would leave the Kirin Tor unbalanced. I think your presence here is beneficial."

"That's exactly what I mean. As much as I would love to return- Jaina, the magic on that world! It's like nothing else! I could. But I believe it's best that I shouldn't."


"I take it Kinndy was eaten by the pandaren."

Jaina let Soffriel help her down from the gryphon's back and handed the reins over to the stablemaster.

"She's staying in Dalaran with her parents for a few more days. But I gave her a small research project to complete before she returns."

"You gave her homework during vacation?"

"Well, not- ...okay, yes. But it's nothing that requires more than a few hours."

Kel'Thuzad chuckled and rubbed his hands together. "Very good."

Jaina snorted. "Stop that."

"Speaking of the ruthless pursuit of knowledge- Soffriel, I expect you in the lab in one hour."

"I will be there." He hesitated, then nodded to them and headed off in a different direction.

"So I told my life story to a whole pandaren village."

"Why?"

Jaina pictured the vivid green wilderness and remembered the sound of lazy waves washing the stony beach. The back her neck was a little sunburned from the day before when she let Kinndy tie her hair up in a pandaren style.

"Stories and oral history are important in their culture. It was the least I could do for the kindness they showed us. We told stories every night. And it… helped put things in perspective."

"Hmm." Kel'Thuzad clasped his hands behind his back.

They continued to amble in the general direction of Jaina's bedchamber. Her body protested more with each staircase they descended.

Today, her hips and ankles hurt the most. Probably something to do with dancing for longer than was entirely sensible. But when was the last time she danced? And most of the pandaren adults could fit a single hand halfway around her waist which helped keep her full weight off her feet. The barkeep, who abandoned her job for one dance, lifted Jaina clear off the floor in the crook of one arm for a dramatic spin.

For once, the pain is worth it.

When they reached her door, Jaina leaned her cane against the wall and opened her new purse. Kinndy insisted that she needed to buy it because the silver embroidery pattern on dark blue velvet reminded her of Icecrown.

"I got you something."

"Gaudy jewelry?"

"Of course."

She held up the piece. It was a torc, made of heavy gold wire, open at the front about two inches. The terminal ends were set with square cut red stones. He accepted it with a chuckle.

"Perfect." He twisted it open and settled it around his neck. "I'll have to find matching cuffs."

Jaina smiled and silence stretched out between them.

"Jaina, we need to talk."

"Is this about why you kept your mind shielded the whole time I was away?"

"Yes."

She took a long breath and let it out slowly. "I need to sleep. I need to think." She set her hand on the door handle. "Do you know when Roxie is due back to the Citadel?"

"About ten days. Are you expecting something?"

"No. I need to send some things." She opened the door and turned to face him. "I'll meet you in the lab when I wake up."

"I will wait for you there."

Jaina closed the door and leaned against it. She didn't bother cataloging her pain; everything hurt now. The feeling of fever crept into her veins.

I need to do this now, while I can still think straight.

Jaina hung her new purse beside the door, changed into her bedclothes, then sat down at her desk and stared at the empty pages in front of her.

What do I say? She flicked the end of her pen against her teeth. The paper remained empty. I'll do the envelopes first.

Kel'Thuzad told her she wrote like a cartographer- neat, careful letters, spaced perfectly.

I don't have to send him a letter.

Finally, she separated three envelopes from the stationary in the desk. Then she straightened up the drawers, chose a new pen, busied herself with testing each colour of ink, got up to pour a glass of water. The sun began a slow descent outside her window.

Just the envelopes. Just do the envelopes for now.

She flattened the thick paper with one hand, then measured an equal distance from the top and bottom, and began to write.

Captain Tandred Proudmoore

Stormwind City, Elwynn Forest

Eastern Kingdoms

It looked good. Every letter was just the right size, matched the others in shape and tone. Her hand was still steady.

His Majesty, High King of the Alliance Anduin Wrynn

Stormwind City, Elwynn Forest

Eastern Kingdoms

Her script was a bit more elegant here. She took her time, even though she knew Anduin would probably take no note of her handwriting.

Lord Admiral Katherine Proudmoore

Boralus, Tiragarde Sound

Kul Tiras

She got through the address before her hand started to shake and she turned away quickly, before the ink was thoroughly dry. She left the envelopes on her desk and crawled into bed, shivering and closed her eyes as her vision began to swim.

I'll write them tomorrow. Or the day after. She curled up, fingers tangled in her hair. I have that long at least.


Ysadéan knelt at the foot of the metal table in Kel'Thuzad's lair. She had been sitting still, illuminated by a single candle, for the better part of a day. The flame never flickered; the wax dripped but the candle never shortened.

She reached up and touched the flawless velvet of her growing antlers. Carefully, she took off her veil and shook her long hair back over her shoulders. From a pocket inside her sleeve, she removed a small round container made of wood. It glowed faintly in the near darkness. She unscrewed the lid it and daubed a fingertip in the thick, silvery paint.

The candle flame twitched.

Ysadéan smoothed the paint over her cheekbone, down to her jaw, then curved the line up her chin, and over her lips to end beneath her nose. She repeated the pattern on her other cheek. Again, she dipped her finger into the paint and carefully outlined the upper edge of each ear all the way to the tip. Then she wiped the paint from her fingers with the hem of one sleeve, replaced her veil, and got to her feet.

The candle abruptly collapsed into a puddle of wax and drowned the wick.

Now the only light in the room came from Ysadéan herself.

She moved around the metal table and straightened the simple white shift in which Kel'Thuzad had dressed Zaphine. The ghouls had found some of Zaphine's own jewelry; she had a spinning ring on her thumb and Ysadéan had crafted a mate for it. Now, she slipped it onto Zaphine's new hand.

"Precious child of blood and flame," she whispered. "Take my hand and fear no more, for I will lead you home again."


a/n: my headcanon: Death Chargers are made the same way Death Knights are; they take a well-trained horse, make it undead, give back its soul so it knows how to respond to a rider, but remove fear and free will.