Chapter 26
6 weeks later …
The Banshee Queen gazed down into the main yard of Agmar's Hammer from her vantage point. The high iron balcony wound its way around the central tower of the settlement's headquarters and provided a decent view past the solid boundary walls. Dark Ranger Vorel, her current personal guard, was alertly watching all faces for any threat to her queen from a respectful distance as Sylvanas scanned the latest arrivals into 'the Hammer' for entirely different reasons.
Two dozen dark figures had just ridden in through the gates, a trail of human prisoners behind them, and were currently dismounting in the yard. One of the figures was not so subtly looking around, holding the reins of a black steed.
Look up.
As if her silent plea had been heard, a pair of black eyes rose to meet the queen's blazing red ones. It had been over three months since they had seen each other after the events at Utgarde Keep, and the queen knew she had missed the ranger captain on a level she tried not to think about too much.
Did she miss me too?
Disgusted at the rebellious thought, she broke the eye contract with Alyna and moved away from the iron wall. She slipped through a set of double doors into a typically basic orcish room containing a sleeping cot, a round table that would be considered small for an orc, and a stool. The outer walls were made from a deep grey stone, but the dividing walls inside were made from a sandy coloured wood pulp held together with glue. Other than a tattered Horde banner that had been quickly tacked up, the walls were bare.
She did not have to wait long before a knock sounded. Vorel silently moved to stand beside the inner door. "Come," bid the banshee queen.
Alyna strode in purposefully and stood before Sylvanas. She bowed her head and then raised her arm to display a set of preserved human heads secured at the ends of some rope. "High General Abbendis and her senior officers, my Lady."
Sylvanas allowed her lips to twitch into a small smile. She looked past Alyna and gave Vorel a nod. "Take these to Overlord Agmar, with my compliments."
Vorel stepped forward and retrieved the grisly offering. "Yes, Dark Lady." Once she had gone, the queen raised her eyes to Alyna's. She pushed aside the feelings the simple connection inspired.
"How was your journey?"
The captain blinked. "My … journey, my Lady?"
What in the Sunwell am I doing?
"From Venomspite. To here."
Why is this so awkward?
Alyna furrowed her brow so slightly the queen almost missed it. "Uneventful, my Lady."
Sylvanas nodded slowly. "Good." They looked at each other in silence for what felt like an eternity before the queen finally spoke, having always been the more impatient of the pair. "You've done excellent work, Alyna. The war council is pleased with the progress you've made securing eastern Dragonblight, and your intelligence on Naxxramas ensured it's downfall."
The ranger captain appeared to relax slightly at the change of topic. "It is our honour to serve, my Lady.
She favoured her captain with another small smile. "Even Nathanos didn't have a bad word to say, and that is … unusual."
Her champion had described Alyna's facilitation of the blight's research and development into a new plague as 'adequate', which as far as Sylvanas was concerned was a glowing report. He had left Venomspite a couple of weeks ago to escort the successful batches of cure for the blight, and the new plague, to her grand apothecary, Putress.
Alyna remained silent.
The queen narrowed her eyes at her subject. "Is there something on your mind? You are remarkably … formal."
Her captain looked down briefly. "You've summoned my entire company here, my Lady. Along with our prisoners and supplies. And we have seen signs on the ground of other large movements of people and equipment." She heavily emphasised her next words. "Heading north."
Sylvanas did not want to have this conversation now, but she had clearly underestimated Alyna in this regard. She squared her shoulders and raised her chin slightly. "The war council have decided to assault Angrathar the Wrathgate. The massed armies of the Horde and Alliance have begun to gather at bases each side of the Court of Skulls."
Alyna's jaw dropped slightly in undisguised horror before she gestured emphatically, "They'll be slaughtered. You have to stop them!"
The banshee queen shook her head slowly as her captain began to characteristically pace before her. "I cannot, Alyna. I gave them your warnings, and for a time they heeded the advice."
Alyna stopped pacing and whirled around to face her. "What changed?" she demanded.
Sylvanas' posture automatically stiffened at both the tone and the question itself. She did not get a chance to respond though as knuckles rapped at the door. "Come!" she snapped at the intruder.
Vorel only half-entered the room, seemingly aware this was a bad time. "Apologies, my Lady. The war council is reconvening."
The queen took a moment to calm her more fiery emotions. "Fine. We'll be there soon." Vorel replied with a nod and closed the door behind her.
"We?" parroted Alyna, angrily.
Sylvanas started to walk past her captain towards the door. "I need you there beside me to answer any questions on the Wrathgate."
Alyna resumed her angry pacing. "I've told you the precious little I know, Sylvanas. Including the fact that assaulting the Wrathgate is a death sentence and will just give Arthas another army to raise."
So, it was 'Sylvanas' now?
The queen stopped at the door and turned to look at Alyna. Her tone hard, she asked, "Are you refusing to come?"
It appeared to get the ranger's attention and she turned to look at her queen. The answer was not as immediate as she was accustomed to. "No. I will come."
She moved to join Sylvanas at the door. As she drew closer, the queen raised her hand and, in a gesture that surprised both of them, gently stroked the back of her gloved fingers down Alyna's cheek.
Their eyes locked again.
"Behave, Alyna," growled Sylvanas lowly. "That's an order. From your queen."
"It will take another week for fortifications and siege equipment to be completed," mused High King Wrynn, moving a few representative pieces along a map of the battlefield.
"That gives us time to move enough troops into position." Thrall added some more of his own pieces to the growing pile.
A middle-aged male human stared at the sizeable map on the table. He then tapped the map in two places in front of the two bases. "If we prioritise placing troops here, and here, with some catapults and canon behind them, we can be ready in case the Lich King strikes first."
A young but battle-scarred brown orc leant closer to the map table and grunted his approval. "Agreed."
"He won't," stated Alyna.
Sylvanas, Thrall, Wrynn, and the two nominated faction leaders for the assault all turned to look at the ranger captain.
"You sound very sure of that, Captain," queried the human paladin introduced as Highlord Bolvar Fordragon.
"He wants as many of you assembled as possible as it is to his advantage," came the flat reply.
Sylvanas glared at her captain. Alyna felt the silent reproach and gave her queen a tiny nod of acknowledgement before taking a step back from the table.
"Bah. We have been through this," dismissed the young brown orc, the leader of the Horde force and Saurfang's only son, Warlord Dranosh Saurfang. "This gate is the most direct way into Icecrown." He turned to Bolvar Fordragon. "I agree with your initial deployment, Highlord. And I look forward to seeing what more we can devise together." His eyes gleamed. "It will be a glorious victory, with plenty of honour for all."
Fordragon looked between Saurfang and his high king before nodding. "Yes, quite. We don't know yet if Arthas will show himself, but if we do enough damage to his forces perhaps we can draw him out, and be done with this."
Sylvanas watched Alyna through the discussion. While the ranger's eyes hardened at the exchange of words, that was her only further sign of disapproval. To the queen's relief, she held her tongue.
The leaders began to talk about the troops they were preparing to commit to the battle, and which would be initially deployed.
"Lady Sylvanas, your dark rangers can line the ridge below Kor'kron Vanguard to help protect it from any aerial attack," Thrall ordered.
The high king added, "We can do the same from Fordragon Hold with some dwarven sharpshooters."
The queen inclined her head in agreement. "A company of dark rangers will arrive within the day. I will have Ranger Captain Nalaren report to you, Warlord."
The younger Saurfang appeared pleased, "Good, good."
The ranger captain in the room was definitely not pleased. Alyna had gone rigid with what Sylvanas perceived to be anger when she heard it was not her, nor her company, who would be present at the battle. She then moved to stand just behind her queen to hiss quietly, in Thalassian, "My Queen—"
Sylvanas snapped just as quietly in their old language, "Not here." She then turned her head to hammer the order home with a glare.
She watched Alyna bite her lip hard enough to draw black blood and she knew they would be having an argument soon enough.
Thrall motioned at a precipice that looked down over the battlefield. "This is where we will place the cure for the blight the Forsaken have been working on. Should the Scourge dare to use it as a weapon, we will rain down the cure from above."
Wrynn looked up at Sylvanas. "And you're sure it will work?"
The queen inclined her head slightly. "My Grand Apothecary assures me it does. My champion has witnessed the test results himself."
The added clarification appeared welcome, and, thankfully, the rest of the meeting did not take much longer. There were many details to still iron out, but Saurfang and Fordragon would be responsible for such. That meant Sylvanas could go home. With her angry ranger captain in tow. To her mild amusement, Alyna did not need prompting to follow her as she made her way down the tower towards where the portals had been set up for those in attendance. The woman's stubbornness kept her no more than a step behind all through the Undercity, her throne room, and into her office.
The queen then turned to face her subject; her hand held up to deter the inevitable outburst a moment longer.
"What exactly do you want, Alyna? Because you tell me the attack on the Wrathgate is a suicide mission, and now you're angry that I'm not sending you to your true death, or worse, back to the Lich King."
The pacing began almost immediately "Any concern for my wel—"
"It is more than that," the queen admitted.
Black eyes narrowed angrily as the pacing paused for a moment. "How can it be more?"
Sylvanas unslung her bow and strode to her desk, laying the weapon on the surprisingly uncluttered surface. She knew she had to measure her words carefully as her fingers worked the buckles that secured her quiver to her back.
"Word of what happened at Utgarde Keep reached the Warchief's ears. He has … concerns. He did not want you present at the battle," she said evenly.
"Concerns," Alyna mirrored without emotion.
Sylvanas turned to face Alyna, leaning back on her desk as if she required its strength for the coming conversation. "We don't fully know what transpired during your capture, which is my fault for not asking sooner. Thrall believes there are too many lingering concerns about your vulnerability to the Lich King to risk you being potentially near him in a battle."
She could see the increasingly distraught captain working through what she had just said. She then faced Sylvanas. "And you? Do you share these … concerns?"
What could she say? Nothing she felt she should say was the truth, and Alyna would likely storm out before she finished if she tried to explain what she was truly feeling. Too late, she realised the only thing worse than saying something, was nothing.
"You … do …!"
The shocked words hung in the air between them. The hurt in Alyna's eyes was evident and it felt like a gut punch to the banshee queen.
One you deserve.
Sylvanas did not want Alyna at the battle for the Wrathgate.
"I am … concerned … about the havoc you would present the combined armies if you were to be killed and raised again under his control." She gestured helplessly. "You are not a mere grunt, Alyna. You would be a significant obstacle to killing Arthas if he managed to get you back."
"I would be a significant weapon in killing Arthas!" roared the furious ranger.
"My decision is final!" she snapped back.
Alyna growled and resumed her pacing. Sylvanas sighed inwardly as the conversation was apparently not over. She watched her captain and waited for whatever was going to be said next.
"You've known how I've felt from the start about being there when he dies," Alyna started. She shook her head. "Six long years, Sylvanas." Her black eyes blazed as she shouted her next words for emphasis, "Six years!" She slammed her fist into the stone wall beside the door, hard enough to make it crumble slightly.
Sylvanas raised an eyebrow at the mess she had also made of her hand in the process. "You'll want to get that seen to."
Alyna snarled and then appeared to concentrate. Both women watched as Alyna's hand reset itself and healed. She trembled lightly with the energy drain but was back to glowering at her queen in moments.
Sylvanas shook her head slightly in minor astonishment. She had no idea Alyna could do that. She knew the woman could heal wounds while feeding, but not that she could compel her body to heal by thought alone. It would appear that keeping up on her feeding was more advantageous to her than the queen had realised.
"Did you lie to me when you promised me revenge?"
It was yet another question Sylvanas knew she was not going to have an easy answer for. "I promised you revenge," she said, slowly. "I did not promise that it would be by your hand, Alyna."
While that much was true, she had been willing to let Alyna be there when it happened, even kill him herself. It was only recently she realised she could not let Alyna face Arthas. She would rather Alyna hate her forever and live, than die and be raised by him again.
Alyna roared her outrage and turned to leave the office.
Sylvanas pushed herself away from her desk and cried after the departing woman, "I will not have him take you from me!"
Alyna stopped in her tracks, her hand hovering over the door handle.
The queen added, trying hard not to sound as desperate as she felt, "I just got you back."
Alyna turned just enough to look over her shoulder at Sylvanas, her voice full of emotion. "And yet you still don't trust me."
And there it was. The hurt, the anger, the disappointment, because Alyna was disappointed in her, all rolled into that one sentence.
The queen watched as Alyna left her office, knowing there was nothing in that moment she could say to pull her back. Sylvanas was weary for the first time in what felt like an age. She slowly walked around to the business end of her desk and allowed gravity to guide her into her chair. She propped her elbows up on her desk and dropped her head into her hands in defeat.
Shit.
The following day …
Sylvanas screwed up a piece of parchment and slammed it into the wastepaper basket with such force it almost bounced back into her hand before settling down in the basket. Knowing why she was not getting any work done, the queen stood and left her office, leaving her bow and quiver behind. She passed through her empty throne room and into the hall beyond. Through habit she stealthed before leaving the royal quarter. As she weaved through her people towards the dark ranger barracks, she mulled over the same problem that had been distracting her since she returned home.
She was used to her Forsaken doing anything she commanded due to her revered position amongst them, and she frequently took advantage of that. In contrast, Alyna had always been strong willed and unafraid to follow her conscience regardless of the consequences. In undeath, Sylvanas knew it was not her conscience that was driving Alyna. Oh, she was still questioning her queen's decisions, like yesterday, but Sylvanas was not sure what drove the woman now.
Was it vengeance against Arthas? She had mentioned it as a reason to be included in the attack on the Wrathgate. It had certainly fuelled the queen all these years, but she had also come to know, because of Alyna, that vengeance alone was blinding and self-destructive.
That was what concerned her as she stepped into the barracks and dropped her stealth. Was Alyna now walking down the same path she had?
"My Lady," intoned Kyala who had glided into view to greet her. "How may we serve?"
"Where is Alyna?"
The lieutenant stepped aside and gestured down the length of the barracks to a door. "Down in our cells, my Lady."
Sylvanas stepped past Kyala. "Walk with me," she said quietly, and they strode together in the direction of the cells. As they neared the door, she asked softly, "Is she still angry?"
Kyala hesitated briefly. "She will accept your wisdom in time, my Queen."
The queen stopped at the entrance to the cells and looked at the lieutenant. "That's a yes, then." An awkward nod was her confirmation. She looked at the solid door. "Why is she down there?"
Kyala gave the door an unsure glance that raised the queen's curiosity further. "We have a prisoner, a cultist—"
"The same one that gave us the information on Naxxramas?" she interrupted. Kyala again gave her another nod. "Why, and how, is he still alive?"
Her lieutenant opened, and then closed her mouth, momentarily unsure what to say. "Perhaps, it is best you see for yourself, my Lady?"
Sylvanas agreed. She pulled the door open and descended down the stairs into the dark corridor that lead to the cells. They were similar in construction to the main prison cells for the city, but nowhere near as extensive. These were the private cells the dark rangers used for their more sensitive prisoners. As she slowly walked past a door that she knew led to Talnia's cell, she was reminded that some of those prisoners were also her own people.
She turned a corner just as a scream started to bounce off the walls around her. It was hard to tell from which cell it originated from, but she soon found an open door. She stood in the doorway silently as Alyna appeared to be torturing a male human. He was naked, and filthy, his body marked with countless wounds that were seemingly minor. But there was no visible tool being used on him now.
As she watched, Sylvanas realised Alyna was feeding on the human. Her hand was on his chest, and a red misty stream was moving from his body to hers. As she fed, the man's skin tightened and necrotised. It began to split in places, mimicking the wound patterns she had noted on his body. The queen raised an eyebrow. Alyna was using her hunger as a method of torture. What happened next answered her question as to how he had survived for so long. Without warning, the red mist became darker and appeared to start flowing in the opposite direction, from Alyna to the human. The queen blinked in surprise as she saw his skin begin to look healthier. As his wounds began to heal, Alyna stopped and removed her palm. The bleeding, sobbing man immediately curled himself into a foetal position, and Sylvanas finally saw his face.
She gasped.
Alyna turned quickly, seemingly having been unaware of her queen's presence. She stood and edged warily towards Sylvanas, misinterpreting the gasp.
"I can expl—"
"You don't need to." Sylvanas cut in. She raised her eyes to look at Alyna. While she kept her words were quiet, the strength of her welling rage caused her voice to quiver. "I remember who he is, and what he did."
She watched as various emotions worked their way through Alyna's features, rage key among them. Sylvanas had been made to watch her suffering at the hands of the Cult, but they had not spoken about it since being reunited. Truthfully, she had not known how much Alyna remembered, or in what kind of detail, and had thought not to remind her of the ordeal. She had hoped her recollections had been blissfully vague, but the scene before her hinted at that being otherwise.
The queen jutted her chin towards the man. "You appear to be using your abilities quite creatively of late. Healing yourself. Healing him."
Alyna lowered her gaze as she considered her reply before raising it again. "Being well fed has its advantages, as I am discovering."
Sylvanas turned her face to catch Alyna's eyes with her own. She realised they were somehow darker, that Alyna herself was darker. The small voice that had been getting louder these days told her it was her fault. That same part of her was suddenly grieving for a loss she was only just starting to comprehend.
The Alyna she had once loved was now gone.
More shockingly, she knew Alyna had allowed it to happen. All that superficially remained was hate and rage, and Sylvanas had played a key part in that by manipulating someone whom she knew, deep down, would consent to the violation because it was Sylvanas herself doing it. Over the last few years, Arthas had not managed to fully break Alyna into accepting what she was.
In a few short months, Sylvanas had done what he had failed to do.
What have I done?
Sylvanas took a step back, reeling from her own thoughts. A hand reached out to catch her arm in an attempt to steady her.
"Are you okay?"
The queen straightened herself and returned with a small nod. "Yes." The arm dropped back to its owners' side, but the black eyes flashed with brief concern. "I will leave you to this," the queen started. "But, when you're ready, Alyna, I would like us to talk."
"If my queen wishes to talk, she just has to say so," Alyna said mutely. Obediently.
Sylvanas' ear flicked slightly. "It is not your queen asking."
The two women regarded each other in mutual silence before Alyna bowed her chin briefly to show she understood.
As Sylvanas walked away, it did not take long before she heard the cultist scream again. This time, she allowed herself to enjoy it.
Six days later …
Sylvanas waved away the petitioner before her.
The Forsaken male bowed deeply. "Thank you, Dark Lady! Thank you." He then moved off to the side where a scribe had prepared a document which he signed without reading.
Fool, she thought. He could have just signed his life away and he would not have known it. Or likely cared, if she demanded it, she realised.
The queen rose from her throne and slowly stepped down from the dais. She had hoped today would be the day Alyna would finally come and see her. Her captain had dutifully sent her daily reports on parchment via a messenger rather than deliver them in person, maintaining her distance.
Sylvanas hated having to wait. But, in this instance, she was willing to keep doing so. Had she not sent Alyna to Venomspite with a promise she would visit and then always found a reason not to? She had pushed the woman away, again, and now she had to wait for her to want to return. Again.
Outside the closed doors to her throne room she faintly heard the sounds of a commotion. Every so often a petitioner arrived late once the doors had shut for the day and her royal dreadguard had to move them along. In their fervour, not everyone did so easily. Today though, she was feeling generous, or perhaps she just wanted to add to her distraction, and she started to move towards the doors to accept whoever so desperately wanted to see her.
She froze momentarily as the doors were suddenly thrown open, her dreadlord majordomo stomping heavily through it. She scowled at him as he approached, noting he carried a large sword stained with Forsaken blood. "Varimathras, what the hell is going on?"
"Nothing that will concern you now, Windrunner!"
Too late, she saw him swing the sword at her unarmoured abdomen. Sylvanas tried to dodge the sudden attack, to no effect.
She cried out in shock and surprise as his blade cleaved right through her middle.