Chapter 9: School's Out
Lordaeran had turned into pure hell almost overnight.
As the army of Lordaeran moved, day by day they came across village after village being attacked and rushed to their aid. They bumped into many fleeing villagers or travelers with tales of rotting dead flaying the living. The leadership met briefly to split the army to go and defend the populace. King Terenas, Uther, Arthas, Antonidas, and Kael'Thas however kept a sizable chunk of the army and continued towards Scholomance, until they came across Andorhal.
In the process of being turned into a bastion of the Undead.
"For the Light! For the King!"
Ghostly attacks rained down from the Scourge's Spirit Towers as the detachment of Lordaeran's Army poured into the ruined town. The Alliance hadn't invented Siege Tanks yet, and the army had few Mortar Teams. So it fell on the Archmages to really hammer into the Undead buildings. Jaina took that in stride, it was easier to unleash her power on them without risking accidentally hitting her allies. She let that absorb her focus for a time as the army fought the Undead, destroying one building after the other. It took her some time to realize that Antonidas wasn't helping, instead he was watching her cast, worry and concern on his face.
She didn't know why he was upset, so she merely teased, "Going to let me do all the work Master?"
Antonidas huffed a little. "I dare say you would if I didn't step in."
She grinned in response, refocusing her efforts on the minor Necropolis floating a bit above Andorhal. She rained fire and ice down on it, over and over again, Antonidas joining in her efforts, and even the Elven Prince launched a strike of flame, sending the spear of fire plunging into it's depths, until it crashed to the ground, crushing many Undead and other buildings underneath it. There was a brief pause in the fight as the wave of dust and debris washed over the battlefield, before a large cheer sounded and the forces of Lordaeran fought with renewed vigor.
Jaina dusted herself off. "Good riddance."
She made to go forward before Antonidas gripped her shoulder. "Jaina, I believe we need to speak on something that has been steadily rising in concern for me about you since we left the Capital."
Jaina turned to face him, a bit puzzled. She had followed his orders pretty much to the letter since her mess-up with Fearlina, what was he worried about? "Did I do something wrong?"
He merely shook his head and motioned her away as the army began to take over Andorhal in the aftermath of the Scourge's defeat. They walked a ways away, still within the town's limits, but enough that they wouldn't be overhead...
Then, Jaina watched, a bit stunned, as Antonidas knelt down in front of her, the seriousness of his voice and body language unsettling and alarming her.
"Jaina," began Antonidas slowly, carefully, "Do you understand exactly what you are doing when you cast your spellcraft?"
Her eyebrows furrowed. "Yes?"
"Explain the process then," said Antonidas, voice controlled.
She... really had no idea what he was so upset about. "I craft the spells intent in my mind, reach inward for my power, my reserves of mana, and cast the spell."
Antonidas's eyes searched hers for a moment, and something crumpled in them. "You have no idea, do you? Is this something the Cult taught you without warning? Because I know I did not, I never would have instructed you to continually do this to yourself."
"Do what master?" she asked, baffled.
"Cast a spell, any small spell," he said, stressing small in a concerning way, "And watch how you draw your energy."
She gave him a perplexed look, aimed a hand at the ground, and shot a small spike of ice into it, feeling her energy draw out of her body. "Okay?"
He closed his eyes, pained. "You don't see what you are doing, do you child?"
She remained silent, growing slightly frustrated about him beating around whatever bush he didn't want to acknowledge.
"Are you even aware of how many spells you've cast on the way here?" he demanded, "Even in this last battle, you've burned through enough spells to have left a fully trained archmage winded and you hardly appear spent."
Certainly not for an archmage from her time. This was nothing, in fact...
She made her eyebrows furrow. "What? This is hardly anything, in fact, I think my mana reserves are kind of low for what they should be, what they need to be. I've been building them up steadily since Hearthglen by..."
"By what Jaina?" he said, "Casting recklessly, slinging one spell into the next with hardly a rest, with hardly a need to?"
"We're fighting the Scourge!" she exclaimed, "They need to be stopped, I don't understand what the problem is."
"That you don't troubles me," said Antonidas in his teaching tone, "I hadn't thought to cover this yet, I never thought I'd need to until it was time to name you a trained Archmage. Arthas's report of the Battle for Hearthglen hadn't troubled me because it was a life or death struggle, I expected you to subconsciously draw on your power like that and casting with everything you had. Not for you to be doing it every single battle."
"Doing what?" she asked, her tone bleeding frustration.
"Jaina, you are not just tapping into your mana, you are tapping into your lifeforce," said Antonidas with a dangerous kind of forced calm, "With every. Single. Spell. that I have seen you cast."
She blinked at him.
"You are supplementing the costs of your magic with tiny specks of your lifeforce in order to drag out your reserve of mana and spare it depletion," said Antonidas, "I don't know how the Cult could possibly imbed such an dangerous habit, why even they would think to need to... no, what am I saying? The Cult probably wouldn't care since they would simply reanimate you if you died. Jaina..."
There was an odd air of helplessness about him, "You haven't altered your casting between a single group of Undead or an enemy base like this, you always give much more than you should when there is no need! Without reservation of running yourself dry! I haven't seen anyone do anything like this since the height of the Second War when we were in one pitched life or death battle after another. There was never a need to, especially not consistently for minor skirmishes! "
But there was for her.
And she honestly hadn't even really realized she had been doing it. The Scourge the first time around, and the Legion, the Battle for Mount Hyjal... there had been so little time to rest. She put everything into her actions, had seen herself grow vastly stronger because of it, becoming one of the most powerful sorceresses to ever live... and she had been augmenting her power with her life the entire time? Like a Warlock? She had watched enough of them and their castings to have an understanding of their spellcraft, but no, not like a warlock, they did that for certain spells, not for everything.
She could recall how utterly exhausted she had been after Hyjal, slept for days Stormrage had told her. Felt so withered and weak for awhile afterwards. There had been a few times after during particularly intense situations that she had felt somewhat drained in that way, but she had gotten used to it. It hardly affected her anymore, even now in her younger body, she didn't feel particularly awful, even after Hearthglen. She had adapted, so what...
"What... exactly is the problem?" she asked cautiously.
"Aside from the fact that you are bleeding small bits of your life into your spells?" asked Antonidas, eyebrow raised, "Do you have any idea of the potential long term damage you will do to yourself?"
"People heal and recover spent energy," she said uncertainly.
She had been practicing her craft like that ever since the Legion's arrival, she hadn't noticed anything 'long term'.
"Based off studies of magical addiction, it is believed to hold are multiple differing dangers. The first is simple. If you keep this up, I wouldn't be surprised to suffer some kind of organ failure by the time you reach forty," warned Antonidas, "Such a continual strain could cause weakening within your body that could lead to sudden collapse in a moment of extreme stress."
Oh.
Well that...
She hadn't quite reached that age, but she could recall feeling physically healthy, and she had been in MANY stressful and complete-mana-reserve-burning situations throughout her life both during and after the Third War.
"Second is the danger to your soul," he warned, "Mixing arcane magic with your lifeforce is dangerous, addictive, potentially corruptive in a manner the demons you spoke of would find... enticing."
Wait, what? She knew that Warlocks could fall into madness and the Legion's influence, but was that the way? They overused their life? Got addicted to the arcane like that by splicing magic and life?
"But I...," she began. She hadn't experienced anything like that... she knew she wasn't addicted.
He held up a hand. "Third, while people do recover as you say, this continues use eats into that recover. Your current years would leave you more tired than average, perhaps never feeling full of energy. Your body would deteriorate quicker. Your later years would not be as... pleasant as mine have been."
"But... I never noticed anything," she said, "I'm not addicted to my magic, and aside from this one time I really dropped after... well... a nasty bit of fighting, I never felt particularly drained. Maybe one or two pretty intense fights, but..."
Antonidas's eyebrows furrowed in thought, but he turned, they both did, when the elven prince approach.
"Tapping into her lifeforce is not all she is doing Antonidas," said Kael'Thalas firmly, eyes narrowing as he interrupted the 'lesson', "The second may explain the lack of damage of the first. I want an answer on how the cult could possibly understand how to do this. Kel'Thuzad wouldn't know this, and I doubt that traitor Dar'Khan would know or know how to teach it either."
The Elven Prince honed his eyes on the young archmage. "Jaina Proudmoore. How are you tapping into Leylines? Especially at this distance from the nearest one? You are pulling mana out of the ground at your feet effortlessly. Even I can't do that in the way you can, with my considerable experience and age. I'd have to be physically at a Leyline and focusing intently to reach anything near what you are doing now."
Jaina felt like her stomach plummeting uncontrollably, not quite sure she had heard right. "I'm doing what now?"
"You are pulling mana right out of the ground, from nature, and feeding it into your spellwork almost subconsciously," said the elf.
But that's... she wasn't intentionally using Leylines. She was doing what Malfurion showed...
Oh.
She had the feeling she was either the butt of a joke, a jab at the high elves (or arcane weidling mages in general), or Stormrage had seen what she had been unconsciously doing by drawing on her lifeforce and showed her a way to counteract it. Pulling energy from the land was something druids did effortlessly. She wasn't a druid, not even close, they could do whatever the High Elf felt ten times better, but once Malfurion had showed her, it wasn't exactly hard to tap into the mana below her feet, even easier when she had skin touching the ground. She wasn't calling on nature per say like a druid would through plants or anything like that, she was simply pulling mana through the ground, tugging it in and trusting the Leylines running below the planet to refill what she took. She hadn't realized she had started doing it subconsciously however.
She hadn't realized with either her lifeforce, or Leylines, or who knows what else.
"You, Proudmoore, are an enigma to me," said Kael'Thalas warily, "There are so many little things I have noticed in how you hold yourself, how you weave your spellwork, that make absolutely no sense. I almost think you've been instructed by a dragon at one point as well, but even that is difficult to tell."
She raised an eyebrow at him, a bit curious what had given him that idea, and not actually answering because, frankly, she had gotten a few lesson from Kalecgos among other dragons and dragonflights. To be honest, she had learned and studied so many different forms of magic and how different factions used it, incorporating and weaving things here and there into her form apparently whether she knew it or not. It was so easy to go and learn to, being able to teleport half way across the world than be back home by nightfall let her go to anyone willing to teach. And that didn't even begin to touch on Aegwynn, the former Guardian of Trisfal had not-so-subtly talked and rebuked many lessons into Jaina's head as her supposed chamberlain. Oh how she missed that woman... who was still alive at this point now that Jaina thought about it.
Oh she was going to have so much fun with that one when she eventually crossed paths with her again. In fact, if she could recruit Aegwynn before Hyjal, that entire battle could go so vastly different if it came down to it.
The High Elf shook his head, "You consistently push so much mana and arcane power through your body over the last few days that there should be severe consequences for your foolishness, yet... I see and feel none of them aside from temporary exhaustion that you come back stronger despite of. You are rapidly improving over the last few days in a way that should take months, if not years."
Jaina slowly worked out an answer, knowing she had to be somewhat truthful in order to get them off her back, "Unrestricted outside of Dalaran and the Kirin Tor, there are many willing to teach, if one is willing to learn. I am not, and was never loyal to the Cult of the Damned. Their actions may have caused a... loosening in how and what and who I was willing to study and learn from, but their dark magic was hardly all I learned about. Being able to teleport anywhere and be back by dinner is... well... it allows me to go to anyone willing to teach."
Antonidas grew exasperated. "Your desire to learn may be your undoing one day Jaina. I don't know how I missed any of these continual excursions, let alone your time with the Cult. How many nights did you sneak out Jaina? How did you never seem so tired the next morning?"
She gave him a perplexed look, not that she had ever really snuck out, but as for sustaining energy, did he really not know how? "Well, I'll show you."
She reached for her magic, tapped into it, and fed it through her body, feeling instantly physically rejuvenated, perking up a bit. "That easy."
There was a look of horror on both her teacher and the Elven Prince's face.
Antonidas sputtered. "Jaina! Do you have any idea how dangerous what you just did is?"
"You've done that for months? Years?" asked Kael'Thalas, incredulous, "How are you not suffering arcane addiction?"
Jaina just gave them a puzzled look. Surely they knew, they understood it was in how you channeled your magic, that gorging like a glutton or continually feeding on your magic every second of a day was the real danger (not brief intense bursts or once a day pick-me-ups), that races other than the High Elves were more resistant to addiction than they were considering they hadn't been intertwined with the Sunwell for so long, not just...
Was the Kirin Tor of old really so dead-stuck in their understandings and old ways? Had she really reminisced about a older, better times, without thinking it through? Hells, there were so many studies based off the Blood Elves's addiction to magic that simply didn't exist yet... were she and they even talking about the same kind of magical addiction? There was such a humongous divide, before and after the Third War, for the world's understanding of magic...
She realized suddenly that there was a gap between them and her. Perhaps even in ways she herself didn't understand yet. She had studied at the foot of so many peoples and ways and teachings. Magic, and their understanding of it, had been forced to evolve to meet the constant threats the future faced. About the only thing under Azeroth's skies she hadn't actually learned magic from was the Scourge, the Old Gods, and the Legion. She had refused to learn those magics aside from how best to battle them. Everything else had been fair game for her to try and learn, even if it didn't exactly convert over to arcane wielding that well. Using the Leylines for example any magic wielder could learn to do, funneling that power from nature was a Druid's thing, but adapting that to pull mana out of the ground rather than just asking of nature wasn't that hard... was it?
"I don't...," she began and trailed off, uncertain as how to proceed, her face scrunching a bit with anxiety.
"Is everything okay over here?" came the voice of the Prince.
Jaina's eyes swerved to see Arthas approaching with concern on his face.
"We are fine, Prince Arthas," said Antonidas, "Merely discussing spellcraft with my young Apprentice."
Arthas hummed in response. "Well, it will have to wait. We will be moving in on Scholomance soon and it would be best to have Jaina lend her thoughts on how best to proceed."
Jaina gave him a look of pure relief and nodded. "I'll explain what I can. Things may have changed since I was last here though."
She took her leave of the two elder spellcasters and walked beside Arthas. "Thank you."
"You looked a bit stressed," he said, "I haven't seen you do anything wrong to deserve it. They're being hard on you for no reason."
"Not... exactly," she mumbled, earning a curious look from him, "They're not being hard, they're just worried. I've... apparently picked up a few habits with my spellcasting I wasn't aware of."
"Dangerous habits?" he asked with concern.
She shrugged. "They think so, but I've not felt anything wrong. If anything, it's helped far more than it's hurt. I've been growing stronger."
Arthas nodded slowly, a hint of the concern the two magi had showing on his face. "I've noticed it. Just... don't push yourself to hard Jaina, okay? Rather than keep practicing during downtime, you can relax a little, come talk to me or the others instead. Alright?"
She frowned a little. "Arthas, if we don't win against the Scourge, none of this matters."
"I just don't want to see you lose yourself in this," said Arthas, "You're already helping us, you don't need to go any further out of your way to prove yourself."
She just shook her head at the unknowing hypocrisy he gave her, not knowing how he himself had done so in another timeline. She picked up the pace, walking ahead of him, and ignoring his sigh. When they gathered the leadership, Jaina recounted again what she knew of Scholomance and it's inhabitants. Many cultists would be in the buildings, necromancers and dark spellcasters. She spoke of some of it's more powerful inhabitants, of the Barovs and the 'plans' for them, citing she didn't know if Alexi Barov had been turned into a Death Knight or not yet. The same for Ras Frostwhisper. When they had questioned her enough, they marched.
Yet somehow, for what knowledge she did have on it's inhabitants, a giant abomination surging out of Scholomance when the army had been cited wasn't one of them. "Putridius SMASH!"
Knights and footmen alike were sent flying through the air and screaming as the abomination charged into the ranks of Lordaeran. Dark spellcasters began to line balconies and walls and roofs of various buildings and the keep itself. Ghouls and zombies poured out of the depths of the keep like a tide, smashing into the Lordaeran Offensive. She had known Scholomance would be rough, but they had hardly breached into Caer Darrow yet and the slaughter had began. Her thoughts briefly turned to Antonidas and Kael's warnings before she dismissed them.
She knew her own power, even if she didn't fully understand it. She would not and could not hold herself back.
She stepped to the side of Antonidas as he cast into the legions of undead, focusing her attention on the cultists high above. She let loose a blast of chain lightning, watching it bounce between cultists in shrieks of agony and bursts of energy. She silently thanked Thrall for his lessons on that spell before casting another. She focused her attention on destroying the spellcasters while the others worked on the wall of flesh smashing into their troops.
"Back you friend!" roared Uther, "In the name of the Light!"
She briefly averted her attention to the sight of Uther battling the Abomination Putridius, his holy warhammer smashing into the abomination in explosions of light that sent it reeling. Arthas rushed to join him, and together they beat the abomination senseless. She refocused in time to see a shadowbolt coming for her from above, she channeled her power into a barrier and blocked it before returning the favor towards it's source, frying a cultist alive. Steadily, the Offensive pushed into Caer Darrow.
Jaina paused in the middle of the advance and tugged on Antonidas's sleeve. "I feel a dark power high in the keep as well as down below. There are two powerful presences here."
Antonidas nodded slowly. "I will suggest to the king that we will split up, half the assault force will go above, the rest will go below."
The leadership met briefly as the Scourge pulled back to fortify the keep and Scholomance. Arthas would lead a detachment into the keep with Kael and Jaina and his captains at his back along with his men. Uther, Antonidas, and King Teranas would clear out Scholomance. Jaina was a bit surprised they didn't want her to lead them into Scholomance herself, but judging from the deep concern Antonidas had etched into his face, he was feeling a bit protective. Scholomance would be far worse than the keep, and judging what she felt, had the most of the area's more powerful spellcaster's there, but the presence in the keep was no pushover either from what she could feel. It was... really powerful. Not as powerful as Kel'Thuzzad had been as a lich the one time she had been close enough to sense him at Dalaran, but decently powerful. Much stronger than Ordin Frostbane to be sure.
She knew was forgetting something about Scholomance, she just couldn't remember what.
They split off, and Jaina opened the door to the keep with a fireball shaped knock, blowing down the door, Arthas grinning at her as she did, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've lost a bit of your manners. Guess I'm rubbing off on you."
Jaina flashed him a smile. "What can I say? People should follow their prince's lead."
"Save the flirting for later," said Kael'Thas mildly, marching ahead of them, "We have a job to do here."
Room by room, hallway by hallway, they cleared the keep of the damned, only briefly pausing when they came to a dungeon full of restrained and terrified civilians. A number of soldiers were stationed to keep the dungeon safe, but not to free them until there had been a chance to screen them. One could never be sure the cultists wouldn't have slipped a plant into the prison. Higher and higher they climbed, until they reached the top of the keep, a flat area that hung high above the ground.
Floating in the middle of the roof was a lich, emanating raw power. Jaina couldn't exactly tell which one it was, most liches looked alike. Was this Ras Frostwhisper perhaps? It floated near an alter, a circle of blood and magic below it's feet. In front of him, on the alter, was a man in terrifyingly familiar armor, a runeblade next to him leaning on the alter. The Lich was funneling power into him rapidly, with a hint of desperation to it.
"What is it doing?" hissed Kael'Thas, flinching at the dark magic permeating the area.
"He's... creating a death knight," she whispered in surprise, and a bit of horror.
She didn't know if anyone present was ready to fight a Death Knight, nor a lich of the caliber they were about to fight.
"I, Araj, command thee to rise!" roared the Lich, green energy fluctuating around the man on the alter, "Arise, Alexei Barov, Death Knight of the Scourge!"
Oh, shit.
She had completely forgotten about Araj the Summoner, the previous headmaster of Scholomance before Gandling had taken over. An explosion of green energy burst around them, howls and screams filling the air, before it funneled back into the man on the alter. Slowly, the man pushed himself off the alter, his brown hair bleaching white as it did, his eyes deadening, dark power rippling from him in an unholy aura.
Arthas clenched his warhammer tightly, light rippling out of it in defiance of the unholy energy. "Everyone but Jaina and Prince Sunstrider are to leave the roof, now."
"But M'lord!" exclaimed Marwyn.
"Now Captain!" ordered Arthas, "None of you will stand a chance here, you will just give the damned more corpses to throw at us. Pull back."
"Yes M'lord," said the captain wearily, turning and retreating back inside with the rest of their forces.
Jaina gulped nervously, "That's... Araj the Summoner. Arthas, Kael, be careful. He is probably the most powerful Lich, if not Scourge, in Lordaeran right now if we don't count the dreadlords. Even Kel'Thuzad wouldn't be stronger than him unless he's turned into a Lich himself."
They wouldn't find any Scourge potentially stronger than him unless they breached Naxxramas itself.
Arthas and Kael nodded slowly, the human prince eyed the Death knight. "I'll take Barov, can you two handle the Lich?"
"I suppose, Prince Arthas, that there is only one way to find out," said Kael'Thas evenly, "The time to talk and plan has passed, they come."
The trio was blown apart by a nova of frost, sending them flying. Their plan on who would confront who certainly didn't survive initial contact as Alexei aimed a hand at Jaina and made a pulling motion. Jaina barely had a moment to recognize the Death Grip ability before she was yanked towards the Death Knight, grabbed by dark power. She didn't even get to yelp as his hand reached her throat and lifted her up, pulling his blade back to skewer her. Arthas slammed into the Death Knight at the last possible second, throwing the stab offcourse, and tackled him to the floor. Jaina landed ungracefully and rolled, springing up and away from the melee.
Kael and Araj were trading heavy spells of fire and ice. Flame strikes, frost novas and frost bolts flying across the roof. Jaina joined the magic fray, throwing a bolt of lightning at the Lich from behind. Araj screeched and spun, waving a hand and unleashing a blast of ice. Jaina barely had time to raise her own defenses in the form of an ice barrier, which all but instantly shattered and sent her flying on impact. She hit the ground and rolled, coming to a stop a few feet away, her body aching and chilled. She shook her head at the sound of an explosion and the Lich's cry of pain. Kael had punished it for taking it's attention of the elven mage.
Jaina rose and aimed a hand, calling out an old favorite of any mage. Arcane missiles ripped out of her hands in purple bolts of energy, slamming into the Lich and sending it reeling. Kael wasted no time in releasing a Pyroblast, lobbing a massive ball of fire at the Lich, causing a huge explosion of energy. Jaina waved a hand, trying to clear the residue from the air so she could see.
"You dare strike me you trifling Elf!?" roared the Lich.
So still not dead yet.
A gust of cold blew through the air. "Your flesh shall decay before your very eyes!"
Kael'Thas bucked to his knees, screaming as dark energy rippled around him. Jaina's eyes went wide. "Kael! Move! Get out of the spell!"
The Elf struggled to his feet and in a blink of arcane energy, teleported out of it, briefly collapsing to his knees, his skin blistering and bleeding, dark blemishes that pussed across his face and arms. "What... was that?"
"Death and Decay," she spat, "A Lich's favorite. It will decay anything caught in the area of the spell. If you stand in it for the full duration, you're dead."
"N... noted," said the Elf, pain rippling through his voice, before it pitched in volume, "Move!"
They threw themselves to the side to avoid a barrage of ice bolts. Jaina briefly turned her head, sighting Arthas and Alexei trading blows with sparks of metal clashing over and over again, runeblade against warhammer, before she refocused. The Lich looked a little scorched, but it's power had hardly dipped. Jaina steeled herself, she was going to need to bring out her more powerful spells to fight this thing. She was a master of Arcane, Fire, and Frost, she knew all of the most pinnacle abilities. She wasn't sure she had the reserves for them however...
"Kael," she said, "Keep him focused."
The elf grumbled something under his breath and ran, firing firebolts at the Lich while running in the opposite direction of Jaina, forcing the Lich to counteract him. Jaina raised her hands into the air and began an evocation. Circles of arcane energy surged around her as she gathered mana to her like a funnel. This Lich thought it was a master of the frost? She'd show it real power. She tensed, her legs nearly buckling under her, as she practically emptied her entire reserve plus the evocated energy into the spell.
Regular mages could cast weaker versions of this.
But she always had a habit of taking things to the next level, especially if she really pumped energy into it.
She watched as a Comet Storm rained down from the skies upon the Lich in massive explosions of frost. The Lich howled and staggered under the barrage, gusts of ice and energy blowing through the air like a cold chilling aura, knocking Kael, Arthas, and Alexei back towards the edges of the roof under the barrage. Comet after comet rained down, five, ten, fifteen, twenty, the roof shuddered and cracked as one after another slammed into Araj, driving it to the floor of the roof and smashing it in. Jaina fell to her knees and gasped, struggling for breath as the spell ended. Her vision blurred for a few solid moments.
"It would seem," came the rasping voice of the Lich, "That the fool Ordin's warnings weren't as foolish as I thought. You are quite powerful for such a little girl."
Jaina's head picked up, eyes going wide to see the Lich pick itself up off the floor and begin to levitate again. It was clearly wounded, its energy much dimmer than before, some bones frozen or cracked or splintered, but still very clearly alive. She swore under her breath and longed for the power she once had. Should this Lich have met her before she came back in time, it would be dead already. Several times over.
Araj snapped it's bony fingers, and chains of frost materialized and bound Jaina to the floor. She struggle weakly against them, her energy burned through. "Decay."
Her eyes went wide moments before she began crying out in pain as it cast Death and Decay right on top of her. Pinned to the floor by its spell, there was nothing she could do but writhe and scream as her flesh started to melt and her vision started to darken.
"SCREEE!" came the sound of a bird.
Jaina gasped as she was gripped in talons made of fire and ripped off the floor. She briefly looked up at the sight of a Phoenix carrying her out of the spell and dropping her at the edge of the roof before it returned to join it's master. She watched weakly as Kael and his Phoenix battled the Lich, arcs of fire bathing Araj in a molten shower. The Lich did not relent under the barrage, casting out bolts and novas of frost against it's opponents, even going as far as to rush towards the Phoenix's egg when it ran out of energy and crush it in it's bony grip. Kael looked positively furious at that, if the pyroclasm that ripped from him was any indication.
There was a hoarse cry, and Jaina turned her head to see Alexei Barov sailing backwards, a warhammer sized dent in his armor. Instead of pursuing his foe, Arthas turned and sprinted towards Jaina, kneeling down. "Jaina! Are you okay?"
It had been a long time since she had been hit by Death and Decay, and she definitely couldn't say she missed the sensation. "N...not re...ally..."
He closed his eyes briefly and clasped her hands in his, holy light running down to coat her body and mend her wounds. She let out a soft sigh, feeling the dark energy plaguing her fading away. She opened her eyes and smiled deeply up at him. He smiled back in relief. And then she saw Alexei looming over his shoulder, runeblade raised, and her eyes went wide with fear and terror for her Prince. Not again, she couldn't lose him again. She put on a burst of energy, desperately drawing on herself, rising to her feet and grabbing Arthas, causing him to yelp as she spun them around...
And screamed in agony as a runeblade tore into her back instead of her Prince's, going limp in Arthas's arms...
Arthas watched in horror as Jaina crumpled to the ground, but he had no time to tend to her as the Death Knight raised his blade for another strike. His vision turned red, and he roared in outrage, surging at the damned man, swinging his warhammer with all his might, entire body shining with the holy power of the light. Light's Vengeance met Runeblade, and his warhammer shattered the Runeblade, sending pieces of it flying and the Death Knight staggering back in surprise. Arthas showed Alexei Barov no mercy, smashing his warhammer into the Death Knight again and again and again until finally, he smashed it into the Scourge's knee, took him to the ground, and with a war cry, brought Light's Vengeance down on Barov's head with a sickening, yet satisfying, 'splotch'.
He huffed and wheezed for a moment, exhaustion biting into his bones. Fighting a Death Knight, an unrelenting and tireless enemy, its unholy aura sapping at his strength and somehow weakening Arthas's ability to heal himself, coils of black and green energy maiming the Paladin or healing the Death Knight, dark fire coating his opponent, had been an experience unlike anything he had come across yet. A true challenge to a servant of the light, yet not one Arthas ever wanted to experience again...
He shook his head and turned, ignoring Kael'Thas and the Lich trading spells on the other half of the roof, and rushed over to Jaina, a strangled cry escaping his lips at the sight of a pool of blood beneath her. He knelt down and cradled her to his chest. "Jaina? Jaina!"
He shook her and got no response. He closed his eyes briefly and steadied himself. Now was not the time for fear or panic, it was a waste of time she desperately did not have. He funneled holy energy down his arms once again. He might not be a priest of the Holy Light, but any and all Paladins could heal. He had done so minutes earlier after she had suffered through that dark spell, and he would do so again. His fingers ran down her back, feeling the open, gaping wound along her skin slowly mend itself closed into nothing more than a long and jagged scab. He wanted to completely heal it, pour himself into fixing any blemish or damage to her body, but he wasn't stupid. As much as he wanted to prevent the scar it would leave, he needed the energy to help the elf against the Lich.
He set Jaina down gently against the railing of the roof and stared at her unconscious form for a moment, helplessly furious. "Dammit Jaina, why did you take that hit for me? I'm a Paladin, I could have taken it an lived, continued to fight. You could have died..."
He shook his head and surged to his feet, turning and charging into the spellcasting fray. He threw a holy light at Kael, giving the man a brief reprieve from his wounds, before shielding himself in a shield of holy power and leaping at the Lich. He smashed his warhammer against it's bones, shattering many of them. The Lich screeched in pain and tried to bat him away first with its arms, then with its icy magic. Protected by the divine, they washed off Arthas's shield like nothing. He rained smash after smash against the Lich as Kael lobbed one fire spell after another into it. With a final swing of his warhammer, the Lich crumpled to the ground, its bones scattering, its power fading.
The two men huffed and puffed for a moment before Arthas shook himself off and began to search the remains. "Do you have any idea what a Phylactery looks like?"
Kael joined him for a moment in his search before scowling, "It's not here."
Arthas swore loudly. "It'll be back then. Dammit."
At least the Death Knight was dead.
"Perhaps its in the building somewhere, or in Scholomance," said Kael'Thas, voice just a tad uncertain.
"I hope so, because that thing...," he began before trailing off.
Kael'Thas merely nodded in agreement before his eyes flickered to Jaina. "Is Lady Proudmoore...?"
"She'll live," said Arthas, exasperated and frustrated, "Stupid, how could she do that? She took a blow meant for me, it nearly... I nearly... I could have lost her..."
The Elf sighed. "Of all people, I'd think you would understand love, Prince Arthas. As much as I would have wished her heart for myself, it is you she cherishes. Do you remember when we last met in Dalaran?"
Arthas stiffened a little. "I do."
"I told you that you should not be ashamed of her," Kael'Thas began.
"I am not!" said Arthas hotly.
Kael'Thas merely shook his head, "And that you should court her openly, and with pride. I was angry at the time, but I truly meant it. It is rare, to find devotion as deep and binding as she feels for you. She does not need your protection for her reputation, that excuse was pitiful then, it is beyond pitiful now with all that we have learned about her struggle with the Cult, and why she left them, for you. All she would ask for is you love her as she does you. You insult her by not doing so, when she would so readily die for the one she loves."
Arthas swallowed hard, saying nothing.
Kael'Thas appeared to take pity on him. "You are young, even for a human, so let my wisdom of hundreds of years warn you: Life is fleeting, and at any moment what you love can be taken away. Don't squander what time you have, especially with the foe we face. The chances of any one of us dying in this fight against both the Scourge and the Legion are high. I will head down into Scholomance to join the others, tend to her and organize your men before you do the same."
With that, Kael'Thas left the roof, leaving a rather stunned and scolded Arthas alone. He slowly turned and made his way over to the unconscious Jaina, kneeling down in front of her, pushing away strands of her blonde hair from her exhausted face. "Jaina..."
He thought of the Winter's Veil, of all the times he forced her to meet in secret with him, a tryst as Kael had once distastefully called their relationship. He thought of their arguments during the initial mission and struggle against the Scourge, and bowed his head. "I'm not worthy of you Jaina."
He sighed softly and leaned forward, a chaste kiss across her lips. "But I will be."
He gently lifted her up and cradled her against his chest and left the roof. He briefly stopped to find her a bed in an empty room of the keep and stationed Falric to guard her before leaving to descend into Scholomance. He hoped Uther and his Father had left him something to battle, because he wasn't nearly done yet this day...
Jaina awoke to the setting of the sun through a window. Her back ached, a line of pain throbbing down it. She briefly recalled what had happened before falling unconscious and figured she had been relatively healed. A runeblade to the back should have, if not killed her, then left her far more injured than she felt. She still knew better than to move at the moment until someone looked her over (or she got impatient enough). She briefly looked around the room, finding herself on a bed in a rather barren room. Probably a servant's quarters. At the door standing guard was one of Arthas's captains, she couldn't tell which.
"Is... Arthas okay?" she rasped out.
The guard turned, approaching to offer a canteen of water. "Good to see you awake Lady Proudmoore, and yes. He's fine, a bit furious with you last I saw, but fine."
Jaina simply smiled in response and took a sip before handing it back, she'd suffer Arthas's rage if only to see him live. "And the fighting? Is it over?"
The captain nodded. "It finished a few hours ago, though our forces are still combing through Scholomance for any stragglers last I heard or interrogating prisoners. The King has gathered a brief council to decide what to do next."
"Gandling?" she asked.
"Archmage Antonidas dealt with him personally," said the guard; she didn't need to see his face to know he was grinning at that.
"Good," she said, turning her head to stare up at the ceiling, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
She closed her eyes and lightly dozed, exhaustion from the earlier battle pulling at her...
...and awoke to a creak in the floor. She turned her head to see Arthas dismissing the captain and walking into the room. Their eyes met for a moment, and where she thought she would see anger, there was only relief. He moved and sat next to the bed on a chair. "How is your back?"
"Aches a little," she murmured.
"Roll over," he said, taking off his gloves and gently laying a hand on her shoulder.
She did with his assistance, laying on her side. She shivered a little to feel Arthas's finger trail down her back, over what she imagined was the wound. "It's going to scar. I wasn't able to heal it fully with the fight against the Lich going on."
"It's fine Arthas," she said softly.
"I'll do what I can to minimize it," he said in equal softness, "No need to leave it in a state where you can pull and rip it open."
She felt the warmth of the light rush into her body, and she nestled against his hand as it slowly trailed down her back. He ran it back up her spine, resting on her shoulderblades as the light faded away. The ache had turned into a small pinch. She stayed still for a few moments as Arthas did nothing else, one hand still on her back, one still on her shoulder. She slowly turned her head and looked up at him. "Arthas?"
He moved his hand, the one on her back pulling her up, the one on her should turning her as he pressed his lips against hers, the hand on her shoulder trailing to cup the back of face as the other did the back of her head. She froze for a moment, shocked and surprised, before she melted into the kiss, raising her own hands to clutch him as she greedily received the kiss. Lips parted, and tongues danced in a way they hadn't since that night before Strathlome so very long ago.
He pulled away slowly. "I love you Jaina, don't you ever do that to me again."
She blushed deeply, struggling with herself and the pure joy to hear those words for a moment before dragging her hands from the back of his head to cup his cheeks. "I love you too Arthas, but if I have to choose between my life and yours, I won't hesitate to choose you. I can't live without you..."
Not again, not a second time. She couldn't survive that twice. Couldn't go through another harsh life full of betrayal and pain and watching herself lose everything again.
He sighed wearily, but surprisingly, did not contest her words. "Our forces are resting here for the night. My father is waiting for news from the others and how their battles have progressed before he makes a decision on our next target. He's voiced a thought of heading to Strathlome, but we will see."
She nodded, her hands slowly peeling from his face as he released his own grip from her. "I'll leave you to your rest M'lady."
Her eyes trailed him as he made for the door. "Arthas..."
He briefly paused. "Yes?"
"D... don't go," she said timidly, face beating red like the young woman her body made her to be, "Stay... with me, tonight."
He hesitated, turning to face her. "Are you sure? I don't want you to feel that you have to, or because of what happened..."
She shook her head. "I want you to stay."
His eyes locked on her for a moment, before they briefly trailed her body with a longing and hunger from days long past. There was an odd restraint in him though, and she was more than surprised to see him hesitate, to hold himself back where the young prince she had once known so long ago wouldn't have hesitated to take that private moment between them and pounced. It wasn't revulsion or dislike or anything like that, it wasn't directed towards her, but himself, and it touched her to see that respect from him given to her.
He slowly closed the door and walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed, finger trailing from her legs to her hips, felt through the silk of her robes. His touch elected a shiver and a small gasp from her. He leaned forward for another deep kiss before pulling away. "I will stay, but we are resting. We're both exhausted and need our sleep for whatever is to come."
She flushed a little, embarrassed by the want she had for him that had overridden reason. Not that either of them had given such consideration the night before Strathlome in a somewhat similar situation, taking comfort in love between one another in the original timeline. Still, she scooted over and pulled at the blankets of the bed, drawing it over herself but keeping it raised for him to slide into. He dislodged his armor and climbed into bed next to her. They nestled next to one another, her head resting against his chest, the soft heartbeat in his body echoing through her ears. Each beat was a thrum of alive, alive, to her ears.
It was one of the most blissful things she had ever heard...
Review Responses:
Cryos42: Yeah, time travel is da best. Someone already pointed out Tirion. I kinda forgot he died. I didn't deem it important enough to go and fix, and I dislike creating OCs unless they are the actual purpose of the story (I haven't really done that since Potara).
Meilstoer: I don't have any book except for Rise of the Lich King. I also didn't play through much of WoW after WoTLK, though I have general knowledge. Fearlina's lore is actually only partially made up. I believe Eligor Dawnbringer mentioned Fearlina was a botanist in life somewhere either in Vanilla Wow or WoTLK. Everything else about her was made up. I reserve the right to do so with characters Blizzard never really gave a background to in order to make the story more interesting.
AnnetheQueen83: Eventually she will be forced to. Not going to spoil why or how, but it shouldn't be hard to guess what instigates it.
H20 Ferrum Dominus: Eh... it's not romantic. She merely garbed the offered hand and leaped through the portal. Wont have any demon love in this fanfic :P.
Reality Deviant: Hmm, interesting, though few are indepth details.
OverDemon: Not gonna spoil whats going on with the Night Elves yet. :D. This story should easily break 100k. I don't start stories generally that don't, or at least don't come close. Well, Review Responses are full of spoilers, review at your own peril, Kel'Thuzzad has only given a few hints thus far, very minor, about being from the future. It will expand later, thought those who read these comments will have the surprise spoiled for them. However, Kel'Thuzad won't be an ally, at least not until the Legion's Invasion is dealt with. Appearances must be kept, and even then, it would require something rather extreme to force the forging of an alliance. As for the other storyline, the undead route, you are assuming they will join the Scourge willingly.
They won't.
That story will be god awful and absolutely brutal to Jaina and Arthas. That they hold onto any kind of love at all in such horrific conditions will be a testament to their devotion. Their love would be the only thing preventing them from becoming absolute monsters, and even that will be a struggle as they try not to lose themselves. It will make WC3/TFT look pleasant in comparison.
Kelmoria: Thrall is gone, was gone before the point they traveled back in time. Medivh... I haven't decided if he's going to sit out the story, or perhaps get involved if the Bronze Dragonflight goes after Jaina. We'll see.
Gendie01: LOL. She'd need to get the book of Medivh to do that, and its locked up in an unknown location in Dalaran at the moment. Even then, she'd need to find and figure out which spell to cast. At this point, she wouldn't be powerful enough to cast it even if she did locate the correct one.
MEleeSmasher: I'll look into A Strategic Withdrawal when I get a chance, I read the first chapter, it looks promising ^_^. As for Dragon lethargy... I can't spoil my plans for the Dragonflights this early.
Australian Dealer: . ., maybe. Jaina needs to get a bit of trust back first.
Eragon95159: Noted and kind of used in the early parts of this chapter.
Thanks to the rest for the compliments. ^_^