Title: Torch Relay
Description: "Sylvanas gets dragged into going to the Olympiad."
Notes1: So first off, I'd like to apologize for not updating. I don't really put much effort and time into writing on days where I'm working days that have eight-hour shifts (during then, I put work above my hobbies and projects), especially when it's combined with my college course on Mondays and Wednesdays (in the time since the last update, I've already participated in two tests, one of which was the mid-terms). Plus, I've been feeling somewhat despondent about my current frame of mind regarding writing - not in the way it's written, but how I'm going to approach it later down the line when I decide to focus on original fiction; most if not all the stuff I have is either in smut/non-smut snippets or compiled in a lore compendium, and while I've thought to tackle it in the form of a web novel, there's this fear I have that such ideations might not matter in the long run if the interest is not there.

On the other hand, this is something I've always been thinking about, so I don't wish to bog anyone down with my concerns (other than possibly getting a new PC by next month, if circumstances work in my favor), no one likes a Debbie Downer :P I did, after all, feel that itch to write for this fanfic again, and the next three chapters have already been determined in the terms of content (49 being the infamous Stables Incident and 50 being the chronological first chapter). I won't ask for any more prompts for the time being since I have plenty still on the prompt dump document.

Notes2: This was an old prompt that was conceived around the time of the 2016 Rio Summer Olympics, and was given further inspiration with the recent 2018 Pyeongchang Winter Olympic Games. The prompt being, "Kael'thas closes out the Nexus Olympics", and was originally to be much shorter than what the final version came out as. Also, to give context to the timeline (and going in accordance with the real-world date the Rio Olympics were set in), this chapter takes place in August 5, 33,998, two months after How Does That Even Work? ends and four days shy of Auriel's emergence into the Nexus (August 9).

"Come on, Sylvanas! The ceremony's about to start!" said Nova, and patted the seat next to her.

"Eh," Sylvanas responded mulishly, but she went toward her, wading through the row of sharply dressed noblesse (and not bothering to mumble excuses for blocking their view and stepping on their fancy clothes; she got bleacher seats right next to the stairs and deserved an unobstructed view, goddammit). "Why did you drag me out of the flat again?"

"Because Jaina got called to help with the Instant Emergency Assistance Unit here and you were the first person I could think of to spend time with because you're just that bored and lonely."

"Bored, yes. Lonely?" Sylvanas scoffed. "What do I look like, an invalid in a hospital? I don't do loneliness." She sat down next to Nova.

"Sylvanas, you nearly threw the remote at the TV when it showed a commercial for Head-On Ultra Max."

"I hate musical earworms."

"You couldn't have muted it?"

The Banshee Queen scoffed. "This is the Nexus. You don't just mute things. You stamp it out by force."

"Oh, tell me about it," said Nova, jostling the bags of popcorn and nacho bins in her lap. "You ever see an empty breakfast bowl from Hub-Mart come to life? If anyone thinks Lovecraft is scary, they haven't seen some of the stuff we've seen come out of there."

"Or gas stations."

"Or gas stations. Man, the things you encounter when you're out in the Quadrants. That's like something out of The X-Files."

"Nothing's worse than an aether storm."

"Damn, Sylvanas, I'll take the suddenly omniscient refrigerator and tiny green toy soldiers barking out snippets of Order 66 over that any day of the week. At least I can tune them out."

"Good thing they're not that common, otherwise you and I would have to be living together."

"Would that be a bad thing?" Nova asked, grinning slyly.

Sylvanas looked askance at her, one long, furry eyebrow raised. "What do you think?" Nova responded by burying her face in the biggest tub of popcorn, squealing girlishly. Sylvanas grunted and looked back at the stadium below them, where a wide, empty cauldron made of marble sat in the center. "Relay should be just about done, I take it," she said.

"Yeah. The guy they had to cover the home stretch got caught up and run down by some chocobos because the alarm system that opens up the gates malfunctioned, so the Olympiad Committee had to scramble to find a replacement."

"That's too bad. Did they get someone?"

"Yeah, they got Kael'thas."

Sylvanas gave her a look. "…On second thought, I think I'll go home and finish that Head-On commercial. See you later." She abruptly stood up.

"Oh come on!" Nova reached out, clasped her elbow, and yanked her back down into her seat. Hard. "Stay with me!"

"It's Kael'thas. Not even your eternal cheer can make me feel better."

"Then I will try my damnedest to crack the slightest bit of smugness onto your lips!" Nova declared. Then, a little more seriously, "He volunteered for a good cause."

"A peacock with its ass on display would make a better show than what he's grandstanding. I mean, look at how much distance there is between the entrance to the cauldron." Sylvanas pointed down at the track of stone leading from the open double doors to the staircase going up to the altar. "Do you expect Kael'thas, the textbook definition of Poindexters, to run all the way up there like a normal person?"

"Why not? I'm not gonna lie, Sylvanas, but elves on shelves you are not. Your men and women are freaking jacked. If a night elf man shredded from head to toe can beat Cho'Gall bad enough to give 'em two separate bodies, then I can see a waifish blood elf like KT gain some muscle. I would know!" Nova added, jostling her snacks. "I have never seen a grown man run away so fast from a gnome that can throw sand blasts from the other side of the battlefield before."

"Would he run any faster if Chromie were a dragon?"

"There's nothing in the Nexus that strikes more fear in the heart of a man than a gnome who can drop hourglasses on a whim and open a can of whoop-ass in three seconds flat. Dragons can't do that. They're like T-rexes; their arms are part of their legs and they're much too tiny to scratch the itch from their backs. Wings just won't do."

"And horns?"

"Most horns curl up, not down; and even on the rare occasion they do, they're long enough for a dragon to tilt its head back and reach that sweet spot."

"So the only thing left to do is make like a horse—any animal, really—and hit the floor rolling."

"Pretty much."

"…Interesting." Sylvanas crossed her arms and reclined back in the seat. She gave Nova a sidelong glance. "The things we talk about sometimes, I mean. How we just go off on tangents that's no different than asking someone how the weather will be in a week."

"Transition's a real sonuva bitch, but I'm okay with it as long as I have you and the others help me deal with it."

Sylvanas raised one shoulder in a half-shrug. "At least it's something." She eyed the food in Nova's arms. "Are you really going to eat all that?"

"Well, duh, you silly goose. I haven't had anything since last night. A girl's gotta get her grub on when the time's right. Big events like this don't come around often. People need something to be entertained by and spend taxpayer money on besides the Nexus Hero League."

"They'll get cold by the time you're done."

"Sylvanas, this isn't just any plastic. It's mimic wood plastic chemically altered to allow the heat of the ingredients to be retained for…lemme think…nine hours, give or take? I'm in no rush to finish this."

"And what toppings did you ask for this nourishing meal?"

"Ghost pepper cheese dip. The popcorn's olive oil."

"My condolences. You want a drink?"

"Oh yes, please! But how're you gonna go get it? This place is jam packed!"

"I got you covered. HEY, POLKAGRIS!" Sylvanas called out to a guy in a candy-striped hat and apron (what a nerd) with bottles of water and soft drinks in a big cardboard box dangling from the straps around his neck. "Pass me one! I'm not getting up from here!"

The dork looked too bewildered to speak, made him stick out in a sea of disgruntled, exasperated faces sent Sylvanas's way. Then, working up the nerve, he yelled back, "Which one?!"

"Don't care! Go long!" Sylvanas held up an arm, and was quietly impressed when he actually hawked it back (but not without a moment of sweat-streaked, teenage hesitation) and lobbed it at her. She snatched it out of the air. "Not bad," she rumbled. She fetched a gold piece from her rune bag, held it up to the light, and shrugged. "Here. Catch!" With a spring of her fingers, Sylvanas flipped the coin into the air—into the crowd. The guy's jaw dropped, eyes popping open with horror.

"Here you go," Sylvanas said to Nova, loud enough for only her to hear above the racket the old bats and goats were causing several feet from them. It was a bottle of Pure Lite Water from the Luxoria Deltas.

"Thanks, Sylvanas!" Nova set some treats off to the empty seat next to her, popped open the cap, and took a swig. "Oh! I can taste the mana in the back of my throat! You, uh, want some?" She offered the bottle. Sylvanas shook her head and waved it off. Nova deflated, took a few more sips, and set it in the cup holder of the armrest. "Hey, there's Kael'thas! And Jaina! The show's about to start!"

"Yay," Sylvanas drawled in the driest tone possible. A hush came over the bickering noblesse, and they extracted themselves from each other and quickly scurried back to their seats. Men adjusted the zoom-in settings on their monocles and ladies picked up their bulky, gold theater binoculars for a better look.

There were rows and rows of people at the bottom: spectators, mostly, that were cordoned off from the path, but behind them were trumpeters, and they raised their instruments and blew a cacophonous melody full of triumph, extravagance, and the anticipation of the flame that would soon be lighted. At the same time, slowly, like a wave, attendants and representatives of the noblesse and corporate sponsors raised their pennants aloft, waving on the morning breeze: the red roc feather of the Greenshirties; the blue hood of the Whisperkin; the purple eight-leafed flower of the Nightshade Guild; the overflowing stein of Jet Briggs Brewery; the lightning bolt gear of the goblin Gearfax Famiglia and the winged cog of the gnomish Cogsmere cosca; the lion of House Endomere and all the houseborn dynasties with their abstract, animalistic emblems in one single, arched rainbow.

The audience at the ground level and in the stands gave a hearty round of applause and cheers. Some rows beneath them, Sylvanas saw a group of bare-chested teenagers painted blue and orange, sporting beer hats, giant foam fingers, and a Judah's belt hoisted on a tall pole shot up and did the wave. The guy holding the fireworks struck a match against the pole, tossed the light into the air, and ducked when the dynamite erupted upwards in a domino effect. One of them—some young chick in a Dragon Shire Academy football jersey and dyed hair—blew on a vuvuzela. The Banshee Queen winced, ears whipping to the sides of her skull.

"ALRIGHT! LET'S GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD!" Nova hollered, barely discernible above the din. "WOOOOOOO!" She raised both arms and shook her popcorn bags. Kernels flew everywhere. Sylvanas mimicked a sigh and clapped half-heartedly.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the 33,998 Ani Ani Summer Olympiad! After traveling a week across fifteen thousand miles, through crocodile-infested swamps, Zagara's zergling pits, the toll booths on Highway 348, and the few remaining chocobo running rampant across the Leeway, the Imperishable Flame is about to enter the stadium!" The crowd responded with a fresh burst of celebration, louder and more exuberantly.

When that settled, the announcer continued. "As witnessed by one thousand of the Luxoria National Guard, the flame bearer approaches! The Olympiad introduces Prince Kael'thas Sunstrider of Quel'Thalas from Azeroth-Default!" Now there were whistles and catcalls accompanying the earth-shaking applause, feet stamping, trumpet blasting, and drum pounding.

"THERE'S KAEL'THAS!" said Nova, pointing. "DOWN THERE!"

The overhead lights from the doorway brightened intensely. A tall, lanky figure stepped through, one hand holding the blazing torch high above his knife-shaped ears. He swept back and forth in a buoyant bow to one side of the stadium, then the other, then at the altar. The elf held his other arm up, palm forward, and swayed left to right, showing off his bare chest shining bronzed with oil, feather-banded arms, legs made bulbous with muscle, the white ankle slippers, the tight red speedo—

Nova threw her head back, laughing uproariously. "Oh my god!"

Sylvanas made a show of covering her eyes and screamed. "MY EYES! OH, MY EYES! THEY BUURRRRRN! AAAAAAAHHHH!" Everyone around her in the immediate and surrounding vicinity were blown forward in their seats with the power of her banshee voice. The teenagers fell forward and into the row underneath them, rolling on top of spectators. Most people clapped their hands to their ears, but some—the old bats and goats—whirled around and snarled at her.

"Sylvanas? Is that you?" Kael'thas called. He looked around, and when he managed to pick her out among the crowd, he huffed. "Figures you would show up! You just have to put on a spectacle, don't you?!"

"SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE! MY INNOCENCE HAS BEEN RUINED!"

"Sylvanas, you're the last person in the cosmos I would have the displeasure of calling 'innocent'! How can you not admire this awesome body, shaped by the earth and blessed with the rays of the holy sun?! This, right here, is peak male condition! Look at it!" He shouted to the arena. "I WANT YOU ALL TO LOOK AT IT!" He threw his arms up and puffed out his flat chest. Everyone went wild. Fireworks whistled skyward and exploded in palm-shell streamers. The air became abuzz with a thousand vuvuzelas. "LOOK AT IT, SYLVANAS!"

"NO! YOU'RE NAKED!"

"SAYS THE WOMAN RUNNING AROUND WITH HER CLEAVAGE AND MIDRIFF STICKING OUT!" Kael'thas roared, ears standing fully erect and shivering. "You're just jealous because I can run upon this glorious road without persecution and you can't! Who would want to see your rotting, sagging tits?!"

"You'd be surprised!" said Nova, and the audience thundered their approval.

"People have no taste! No restraint! This is why the Nexus has been hand-delivered to hell in a handbasket; we keep using aluminum foil instead of good ole Saran wrap! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"

"I already did! I've found a way!"

"Yes, you have! You've found a way to have things get blown up in your face when you least expect it!" Kael'thas jabbed the Olympiad torch at Sylvanas, who was staring at him with wide, shocked eyes; the lights made her appear almost blind. "Sylvanas Windrunner is the most predictable elf—nay, the most predictable person in this universe! If life won't make her blow, she herself will! Where there's a will, there's a way! Take my word for it!"

"M-MOTHER! HE'S SAYING THINGS OUT OF CONTEXT!" Sylvanas bellowed again. "HELP ME, MOTHER!"

"I'll show you a mother!" said Kael'thas, and for a second he looked like he was going to hurl the torch into the stands. Instead he held it up for the audience to see, and added, "I will show you what how motherly a flame looks! Controlled! Domesticated! NURTURED! ANAR'ALAH BELORE!" He took off at a run, long legs loping step by step along the marble stones. Cheers galvanized him forward.

"Man, you really like giving people a hard time, don't you?" Nova said, watching him become smaller the closer he drew to the stairway.

"It's those same people who think they know everything there is to know about body image that flounder the most, like a beached whale!" said Sylvanas, kicking back in the seat, one leg draped over the other. "I'm surprised he can still run with the stick up his ass."

"He's actually doing pretty good."

"Now I really wish there was a dragon chasing him."

"Hey, I like how, but not that hot."

"If it's a hell he can try to contain, it's a hell he can appreciate."

Kael'thas finally reached the steps, the braziers on either side igniting brilliantly the higher he climbed. He came onto the landing, where members of the Olympiad's Instant Emergency Assistance Unit stood by the altar in a semi-circle. Jaina was among them, dressed in the gold and red, form-fitting uniform of the Committee, with a water elemental donned in plated Luxorian armor looming over her.

She greeted him with a low, flourishing bow. "I'm glad you could make it, Kael'thas. That was wonderful."

"The part where I ran or the part where I gave that troublemaker Sylvanas a good ole what-for?"

"You know she does that on purpose," Jaina sighed. "Just ignore her."

"A banshee, getting under my skin?" Kael'thas laughed. "Let her try! If she should dig any deeper, then she will be roasted from the fire within! Just like this altar." He turned to face the bowl-shaped construct. "My time has come. Watch, Jaina, as I fulfill my calling!" He started walking, the spotlights following him as he went. He came to stop before it, torch held before him. The cheers and applause and hooting increased tenfold.

This was it. This was the moment—The Moment, when all the stars and planets were aligned just for him. Him, Kael'thas Sunstrider, who would give light to the masses. Him, the provender of truth, human spirit, and the dichotomy of perseverance. Sure it wasn't the Sunwell, but he pretended it was; pretended he was the herald of the fire and the magic that kept the Sin'dorei afloat for thousands of years before Arthas snuffed it out. He would relight it, see it consume the coals and the oxygen and grow higher and larger until it towered above this building of grandiose, architectural wonder. It was almost like being reborn. Almost, and the thought of imagining his people returning to what they once were, what Quel'Thalas once was with, made his throat tight and his eyes mist.

"May the sun light my path," Kael'thas whispered, and slowly, reverently, he set the torch to the coals.

For one brief, brilliant second, no one could see anything but white. Pure, blessed white, more akin to a camera flash than lightning, searing afterimages of the Imperishable Flame into their retinas.

Except for Sylvanas, because magic was such a great thing to have when you were undead.

So there were afterimages, but they were gone with the blink of an eye as quick as they had come, and the second thing she saw as she did so was a pillar of white flaring up.

It wasn't the altar.

"BY THE LIGHT! KAEL'THAS!" Jaina cried, stumbling away from the colossal heat.

Kael'thas shrieked. "HELP! HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME! JAINA! SOMEONE! ANYONE! HEEEEEELP! IT HUUUUURTS—!"

"Put him out! Put him out!" said the Unit. They powered up their water cannons and mowed him down to the floor. Jaina's water elemental made a low, aqueous sound and surged forward, blasting shot after shot of ice cold water onto him. Kael'thas crumpled to his knees. Then he fell forward, curled up in a ball, become smaller….

When he was finally put out, there was nothing left of him but ash.

"Kael'thas!" Jaina ran up to the pile. "Kael'thas!" There was something small and shining therein, and with her gloved hands dug through the mess until she pulled them out. Her jaw dropped as well as her stomach. Even the air went out of her lungs.

A pair of oval-shaped, green eyeballs blinked up at her. "Jaina! Thank the Sunwell! I always knew you would be there for me! You are, indeed, a true friend!"

Jaina stared dumbfound at him. "…How are you talking? Better yet, how are you even still alive?!"

"Now that is a very good question! It would appear nearly every aspect of my physical, mortal coil has been sundered by the power of the Imperishable Flame and has left only my soul to take residence into my eyes! I cannot respawn until I fulfill my duty as an Olympiad torch bearer! Tell me, dear Jaina, is the altar alight?"

"N-No." Jaina held up Kael'thas's eyeballs for him to see. The coals were warmed orange, but they were not yet hot enough to be set. "The torch went out before you touched it."

She could feel them widen and blink in the cusps of her palms, soft and slick as clay. "Good gracious! We can't allow this to go untouched any longer! Jaina, set me upon the altar!"

"Wh-What?!"

"You heard me! Offer me as a sacrifice to the Powers That Be, so that they may light the fire from within the aether! Then, and only then, will the Olympiad commence!"

"Are you sure?" she asked, getting to her feet and making her way to the altar.

"Jaina Proudmoore, I have never been so sure of something in my life. Be you not afraid! I will return! After all, I consulted several online tests and discovered my spirit animal to be a phoenix—an Eversong phoenix, mind you. Not those third-rate birds that gather those funny-looking leaves in their piddly little nests only to blow themselves up!"

"…Kael'thas, those birds are phoenixes. And the leaves are called myrrh; the phoenix that was reborn embalms the parent's ashes into the myrrh so it can carry it to the top of the mountain where the gods reside. So the legends I've read go."

"Well I'm not climbing a mountain without my legs to guide the way and my hands to see me to it! Nor do we have time to go frolicking in the wilderness, sniffing flowers with Ferdinand! There are more important things to be done in the pursuit of happiness, liberty, and freedom of property!"

Jaina shrugged. "If you say so." She gave the altar one long, anxious look. "Oh I hope this works…." She held out the eyeballs with cupped hands to the smoldering coals, felt the faint glimmer of heat even through the gloves. She hesitated, glancing up at the water elemental. It looked back at her, shrugging. Jaina regarded the bowl. "Um…Lord Ka? Can you hear me? It's me, Jaina Proudmoore. I, uh, I would like to offer Kael'thas Sunstrider's, um, eyeballs, as a sacrifice, so that you may grant us the gift of lighting the Sacred Altar. I'm not sure what to do in exchange for your goodwill, but…if you do me this one request I promise I'll stay off your temples. As long as the Board is able to, I mean! I'm not what you'd call a penny pincher, but my sponsors have to make their money (ill-gotten as it is), and—"

"Jaina, what are you doing?" Kael'thas asked, irises rolling up to the back so that he could see her upside-down. "Throw me in there! What's the worst that can happen—"

Jaina drew her hands back and, after a very minor pause, flung the eyeballs into the bowl. The altar ignited with a guttural whoomp, and at the same time the torches surrounding the Instant Emergency Assistance Unit joined in unison. The stadium celebrated, voices and fireworks and music rising to the occasion as if they were all three beasts with one mind.

"What a beautiful sight!" cried the announcer. "With this, the 33,998 Ani Ani Summer Olympiad commences! Three cheers for Jaina Proudmoore!"

"HIP HIP HURRAY!" said the crowd. "HIP HIP HURRAY! HIP HIP HURRAY!"

"You did it, Jaina!" said the members of the Emergency Assistance Unit. The people tossed aside their water cannons and rushed at her as a swarm. She shouted, overwhelmed, before she was borne upon their shoulders and carried down the stairs. The water elemental rumbled surprise as some of them danced around it.

"Jaina saved the day!"

"Three cheers for Jaina!"

"You're our hero!"

"You should've been the flame bearer, Jaina!"

"Yeah! All that hot air couldn't save Kael'thas!"

"He sucks, anyway!"

"Only a pure heart can light the Altar of the Imperishable Flame!"

"Jaina, Jaina, she's our girl! Bringing joy 'round the world! Hurray! Hurray!"

Jaina could only stare, bewildered, at the lights and sounds and pyrotechnics guiding them down the stairs and, if their direction was anything to go by, a circuit around the track for everyone to see. "Huh? What? But I'm not…! WAIT!"

Sylvanas and Nova watched the Unit (with the exasperated servant of Neptulon in tow) pick up speed. "What the hell just happened?" Nova asked.

"Kael'thas became a Rareware character because he was found unwanted and was sacrificed to Ka for the greater good, so now Jaina's being lauded a hero who'll be spoken of in folk songs, children's fables, and Internet memes for years to come."

"Man! Talk about reaping the rewards! She'll be raking in the big bucks now!" Nova dunked a chip in the hot cheese sauce and popped it into her mouth.

Sylvanas shrugged lazily. "She'll be rich…for all of one week. Something has to blow up in the Nexus. It's a cardinal law of the universe, and if it doesn't happen by then then it's a goddamn miracle." She heaved a weary sigh and slouched further down the seat. "I would love to go one week without the land turning into glass. We should go to the Maz'enka and start our own betting pool. Monte Carlo's fallacy is a load of bull where the physics of the aether is concerned. What we need to apply for is fixed odds; that way, win or lose, we can earn some decent amount of cash to compensate for whatever collateral damage debt lawyers throw at us. How does that sound, Nova? Nova?" She picked her head up and scoffed. "Is that a yes or a no?"

Nova's head moved erratically, back and forth and up and down. Her gums flapped, too, huffing and puffing amidst a thin veneer of sweat and heat-flushed skin. "Y-Y-Y-Yeah! Yeah!" She grabbed the bottle of Pure Lite, uncapped it, took a long swig. "H-H-Holy hell…!"

Sylvanas groaned quietly, tipped her head back, and closed her eyes.