Chapter 15
The market district was bustling with soldiers, volunteers and workers trying to get smith work done and purchase supplies. Novacon had called an all hands gathering that afternoon and broke the news of the northward warpath.
People were shoving and even brawling sometimes in order to gain a better position in line to the smithy. Arkerya had heard from Tia about the orders to march north in ten days. Arkerya was, if only for a moment, suspicious of how hard it was for Tia to contain her excitement.
As Tia had spoke, her armor could be heard clattering from her constant quivering. In her eyes there were no tears. In her voice there was no truth. Tia seemed all too eager to throw herself at the plague in the north.
Arkerya then quickly dismissed this notion, as she found herself feeling the same. In her mind she had realized the potential payback that she could dish out to the scourge was... exemplary. I feel you Tia! I'm ready this time.
Arkerya had indeed begun to even hunger after the blood of her enemies, an animalistic trait she often feared herself for. Arkerya shook the thought from her head before thanking Tia and continuing on her way.
The line to the smithy was snaking its way from the market district to the cathedral district. Once Arkerya rounded the corner into the market square, the full length of the line came into view. Arkerya shuddered to think of being in the back.
Arkerya was however not on her way to the smith. Her newly issued weapon and armor was still in pristine condition and needed no work. Arkerya had had a revelation in the guild hall commons.
Due to the high potential of holy magic, most paladins didn't learn their magical art until later on in their training. The extent of her magic stopped at choosing a weapon and she didn't even fully understand that. Arkerya had come to the decision that if she was to be of any use to her allies, magic would be essential.
For this reason, she was on her way to the mage quarter of the city in search of a mage trainer by the name of Jennea Cannon to ask her for a crash course in magic. If she can teach me anything at all, I'll take it. If I'm to make this paladin thing work, I have to be as prepared as I can.
Upon crossing the bridge in the western canals, Arkerya turned the corner into the mages quarter. The architecture of the quarter was very different from that of any other district in the city. There was so much magical energy in the air that Arkerya could actually smell it. The shops and tavern were constructed in a mystical sort of way and in the center of the quarter was a tower that stood almost as high as the keep.
Drogin, after much harassment, had informed Arkerya that Jennea spent most of her days enchanting in the tower. Arkerya climbed a long spiral staircase outside the tower to reach the entrance.
Inside, many mages and their apprentices were dueling one another and mixing potions. A few eyes wandered to Arkerya when she came in, but soon went back to practicing their art.
Auburn hair, brown eyes... Arkerya climbed higher and higher in the tower until she reached the very top. A woman in blue robes was on the other side of the room staring intently at a silver amulet.
Recognizing her from the description Drogin gave her, Arkerya strode over and spoke to her.
"Jennea Cannon?" she asked. The woman promptly held up her index finger without breaking eye contact with her amulet. Arkerya patiently waited and after a few minutes, the amulet started to shine more brightly than it did before.
Jennea broke her trance and finally greeted Arkerya back. "Yes, what is it?" she said. "I'm Arkerya and I have a request for you. I am a paladin in training and I don't know any magic at all. I was wonder-". "You want a crash course in magic?"
Great, another mind reader. "I knew you were here long before you approached me. What makes you think you can learn anything from me? I am proficient in frost magic and enchanting. I know nothing of the holy arts," she said gruffly.
"I know that, but I'm desperate. My trainer, Callencia, says that holy magic is taught later in training and-". "And you are worried about the worth of your abilities in the coming battle?" Damn it all, why couldn't she just be a normal mage?
"The first thing you must learn is that there is no such thing as a normal mage. Magic is, by definition, abnormal, so it is unfair to try and classify mages even if they practice in the same school. My mind reading is conditional with my training," Jennea said.
Arkerya grumbled at being read like a book, but said nothing. "I'm afraid I cannot help you with your holy magic, but I can teach you something about enchanting. Fundamental magic like enchanting can often strengthen other magical skills down the road in your education. If you are willing to learn, I'm willing to teach," Jennea said to Arkerya's delight.
"I am willing to learn. If you are indeed willing, please teach me," Arkerya said. "Not so fast, girl. Learning even basic magic usually takes months. Since time is short, your regiment will consist of grueling exercises that will accomplish a great deal of training at a cost," Jennea explained. Cost? "That's right, a cost. You will be plagued by fatigue every day and you will most likely endure a good amount of pain. Magic is very hard on the body," Jennea said.
Arkerya couldn't imagine how enchanting could put too much strain on anyone. It wasn't like actually casting spells. "What exactly about your training is going to hurt me?" Arkerya asked, dreading the answer. "Mana thistle," Jennea said.
"Normally, apprentice enchanters learn by repetition until they get it exactly right. With a few doses of the herb known as mana thistle, magical potential increases dramatically and the learning process shortens considerably. Herein lies the cost I mentioned. Mana thistle will leave you drained, hungry and most importantly, wanting more mana thistle," Jennea said.
Arkerya realized now the price she would have to pay. Magical addictions were worse than any alcohol or mundane herbal fixations and were widely feared, even in places like her hillside village home. A great deal of effort went into uprooting an outbreak of mage royal in her younger years and she had since been educated on the dangers of magical herbs.
"I'll do it," Arkerya blurted out. "I have little time and a lot of ground to make up. If I am to march to battle in ten days, I will need to be equipped with as many weapons as possible. I will do whatever you say, my mistress," Arkerya said, bowing in respect.
"Very well," said Jennea. "Your training starts immediately." Jennea walked over to a cupboard with many alchemical ingredients in it and pulled out a few stalks of white herb.
"Eat this. We first need to make sure you aren't allergic. I have an antidote so have no fear," Jennea said. Arkerya took one of the stalks and put it in her mouth. The ensuing chalky taste caused Arkerya to gag. She looked up at Jennea who motioned for her to swallow.
Against all of her instincts, Arkerya chewed the unsavory plant and managed to swallow it. Almost immediately, Arkerya felt very energetic. Her fingertips started to tingle and her alertness shot through the roof. She felt like she might hear a pin drop in Goldshire down the road.
Arkerya looked around and then looked at Jennea who returned a look of approval. "Very good. You show no adverse effects," she said as she turned to a different cupboard. This time she pulled out a copper rod and small pouch of glittering dust.
"This dust is the byproduct of disenchantment. When objects with magical properties are broken down, you end up with a mundane object, usually destroyed, and this kind of dust. The color and properties of the dust are dependent upon the strength of the enchantment. This is low level magic, so this simple dust should provide plenty of power," said Jennea.
"So what now?" Arkerya asked, genuinely intrigued. "Hold out your hands," Jennea replied. Jennea then poured a small amount of the strange dust into Arkerya's open palms.
"Rub your hands together and lather them in the dust," Jennea instructed. Once Arkerya had thoroughly dusted her hands, Jennea gave her the copper rod.
"This process is very simple enchanting. We will be aiming to inscribe a rune into the rod that will give it the potential to cast stronger enchantments into other items, much in the same way that wands cast spells," Jennea said.
"The incantation is 'potestatum'. Close your eyes now," Jennea continued. Arkerya closed her eyes and cleared her mind. "Now chant the incantation three times while attempting to pour mana from your body into the rod."
"Potestatum, potestatum, potestatum!" Arkerya said aloud. Nothing happened. "Focus! You must focus your energy on the rod and only the rod. All other things will disrupt the enchantment. Try again," Jennea barked.
"Potestatum, potestatum, potestatum!" said Arkerya again with more conviction this time. A single spark flew from her left hand and pricked her enough to produce a painful yelp from Arkerya.
"That was better. That was an indication that you are successfully moving the magic in your body to your hands. Concentration is the key. You must concentrate!" Jennea said. "Again."
"Potestatum, potestatum, potestatum!" Arkerya said vigorously.
Solwein sat at his desk in his quarters pouring over possible defense strategies and scenarios centered around Light's Hope chapel. He had committed all of his energy into making ready for the move to the north all day and still had much to do.
He and the king had had a long talk about the extent of Solwein's power. The king took the news that he couldn't produce wings or make the light bringers hilt work much better than Solwein had expected.
The king had said that such power should be used sparingly and both of them agreed that it was a good thing such might could only be produced in the most dire of situations. While that may have been good enough for the king, Solwein didn't like the idea of not understanding his own power.
Through many failed attempts, Solwein had decided that the light must have played a vital role in the procurement of his power. Solwein was slowly being convinced that he was in fact the light bringer and not Arkerya. But he wasn't totally convinced yet.
In the back of his mind, Solwein always kept the bond he shared with Arkerya in his thoughts. It baffled him, infuriated him even, that he didn't understand its purpose. Other than what the prophet had said, that was the only loose thread in the theory that he held the title and she did not.
It was only out of indecisiveness and shame that he didn't speak with Arkerya directly about this. He feared her spurning most of all, though he didn't know exactly why.
This one will be a creature of the dark, one of his minions. The words of the prophet played over and over inside Solwein's head, tugging at his last nerve. Arkerya was, in fact, one of Arthas's minions and he was not.
Additionally, the prophet had said that he would be the one to find the light bringer, not become the light bringer. The notion was inconceivable. The two scenarios couldn't coexist.
Solwein brooded about this regularly and usually consoled himself for the time being by telling himself that future events would reveal the answer to the puzzle. At least, that is what he hoped for.
Suddenly, there was a pounding on his door. "I asked not to be disturbed," Solwein said absentmindedly. "Your apprentice destroyed my tower!" came an angry voice from the other side. My apprentice?
"Enter," Solwein said. Arkerya, accompanied by an aging brunette in very dirty mage robes entered the room. "Arkerya here has burned most of my alchemical materials, frightened a dozen mages away and leveled the better part of the top floor in my tower," Jennea said.
Solwein threw his head back and widened his eyes in surprise. He looked at Arkerya, who had dark circles under her eyes and was shivering profusely. "What the bloody hell happened?" he demanded.
"She came to me wanting to learn about enchanting. I accepted her pledge of apprenticeship and we began a simple exercise this evening. In order to speed up her training, due to a lack of time, she agreed to ingest mana thistle. The result was an arcane explosion of great magnitude. I have two requests, sir paladin. I ask that you keep this one away from the mages quarter from now on and I ask that you teach her some control. Her magical potential rivals that of the arch mage and her self control is that of a small child," Jennea barked.
Solwein rubbed his chin, dumbfounded. "Very well, milady. I shall comply. Please leave me and... my apprentice to speak alone," Solwein said. Jennea bowed and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Arkerya stood as still as she could. Solwein cocked an eyebrow, still rubbing his chin. He started pacing, preoccupied with his thoughts. "Mana thistle, eh?" he remarked, stopping to look at the shivering girl. Arkerya nodded, clearly not feeling well.
"It will go away soon enough," said Solwein awkwardly. Solwein paced back and forth a few more times before speaking again. "Did you really blow up the mages tower?" Arkerya nodded slowly.
Solwein fought the urge to chuckle, unsuccessfully. Arkerya too couldn't fight the smile that appeared on her face. Solwein cleared his throat and put up a tough grimace. You sure are full of surprises, Arkerya. Solwein's thoughts drifted to the bond he felt growing stronger.
This is a perfect opportunity to have a much needed talk with her. Solwein impulsively decided the time to speak on her purpose there had come.
"Arkerya, I have a few things to say to you. I'm not sure how you'll react, but I hope you can forgive a young man's impetuous actions," Solwein said. Arkerya was taken aback by this. A look of worry spread across her face.
"Fear not, for you have done nothing to cause any trouble, other than... blowing up mage towers," Solwein snickered. "Forget about that. They can fix it in no time. No, I'm afraid that it is I who has caused trouble here," he said, sounding more serious.
Arkerya seemed interested in what Solwein had to say, but she still seemed nervous at the same time. "Arkerya, do you remember the bond I spoke to you about in the abbey?" Solwein asked.
"Yes. Have you discovered anything more about it?" she asked back. Solwein took a deep breath. "Arkerya, I haven't been very honest with you. I haven't told you everything I know. As long as I'm being honest, I must also tell you that I have been very wrong about a few things," Solwein said, exasperated.
Unlike when they first met, Arkerya was not wide eyed and wary at all. She had complete faith in Solwein, even though he had confessed his dishonesty. It crushed Solwein inside to break the news of his failure to her.
"The bond we share isn't the only reason I came to Northshire. I came in search of a certain kind of person. Young Arkerya, you possess the kind of magic that is written about. It is so potent that I can scarcely put into words is formidability. There were of course many other circumstances surrounding you that drove me to your side, but the intense magical concentration I was feeling is what really brought me to the abbey," Solwein said.
"When I got there, I was so happy to see you, so happy that I had found what I was looking for I didn't even think to question the decisions I was making. I didn't think things through," he said.
"When I looked into your eyes, I saw your destiny. But the trouble with trying to divine such a complex thing is the unpredictable nature of one's destiny. I am almost sure that I misread yours," he said, opening a trunk in the corner of the room.
From the trunk he pulled out the light bringers hilt. He returned to face Arkerya and held the hilt out to her.
Arkerya, still quivering from her withdrawal, looked at the hilt and then back at Solwein. "Take it," he said. Arkerya reached out with her hand and grasped the hilt. It was light and well wrapped. As Solwein let go, Arkerya stared into the old hilt and breathed deeply. Nothing happened.
Solwein hung his head. "That hilt is said to conjure a blade, bludgeon or any other form of lethal weapon at the discretion of the light bringer," he said. Arkerya looked at the hilt and then back to Solwein. "Then why did you give it to me?" Arkerya asked.
Solwein closed his eyes somberly as the truth was finally revealed to Arkerya. "Me? But I'm not..." she started. "Now you know. That's why I came to you, Arkerya. I thought you were the light bringer. I have started you down this path of war and suffering for no good reason. Forgive me," he said shamefully.
Arkerya shifted on her feet. "Master Solwein, I... I have a secret of my own," Arkerya said. Solwein looked at her inquisitively. "I'm not here because I want to wage some holy crusade. I'm not here to save the world. In fact, I'm not even really here to save myself. I seek Arthas's head. That is why I came with you to Stormwind," she said, unable to look into Solwein's eyes.
"I don't understand the light or the paladin way and when it comes down to it, I don't really care. I need power if I am to meet and defeat Arthas in battle one day. I... saw this as a means to an end. I'm sorry, Solwein. I'm not your light bringer," she said.
Solwein wanted to feel relieved that Arkerya had not lashed out at him, but as the bleakness of Arkerya's existence came to light, he couldn't help feeling more pity and self reproach than relief.
"I want to be happy here, master Solwein. I feel like the order has been more than welcoming and I have learned a great deal about personal combat here. I am grateful to say the least, but you must understand that I've been to hell and back. Arthas plagues my thoughts day and night. In my dreams, he comes as a vivid reminder of what happened to my family. In the day, he burns like fire in my gut, forcing me to loathe him endlessly," Arkerya said.
"Once you've traveled in the darkness, once you've suffered a fate worse than death, there is no going back, no regaining the life you had before. You are doomed to a half life, a life in which you serve your vengeance and only that. It is for this reason only that I remain here. I need to become strong. That is why I want you to teach me, master, because you are the light bringer, because you are strong," she said darkly.
Solwein's shame had intensified. He was feeling particularly crestfallen about the confidence he had put in Arkerya. The bond he had been feeling tugged at his heartstrings, sending him deeper into his regret. A means to an end.
"It seems I was wrong about more than I thought. I know now that I did misread your destiny, for the light would surely never choose a selfish individual like you to be its champion," he said coldly.
"Master, please. I want what you want. Please show me the way of the paladin so that I can help-"
"The way of the paladin lies not in the path of blind hatred and personal vengeance," Solwein said, cutting Arkerya off. "If what you say is true, you have no place in my company or in this paladin order. Make no mistake. I want the salvation of my people. I do not act on vendettas nor do any other paladins in this order. You and I do NOT want the same thing. I was wrong to come to Northshire."
"But I-" she started.
"You are dismissed, Arkerya. Do not return to me," he said, turning away from her toward the window.
Arkerya hung her head, dejected, and turned to leave the room for her own quarters. Tears welled in her eyes as she turned to look at Solwein one last time before starting down the corridor to the stairs.
Solwein slammed the door shut behind her. I can't believe how careless I've been. At least now there is no doubt. I AM the light bringer.
As though an invisible force could tell what he was thinking, the ever present connection he felt to Arkerya flared in his chest, causing him to sit down absent mindedly on his bed.
Even now, knowing her for what she is, I can't shake this feeling. Curses.
Solwein wearily lay down on his bed, kicking his boots off onto the floor. Unable to get Arkerya off of his mind, he tossed and turned before drifting off to restless sleep.
The skies were black. The clouds above Arkerya had turned black and dark and lightning began to shoot out. Her surroundings were obscured by a colossal whirlwind, encasing several small rock formations above a seemingly endlessly deep ocean. In the middle was sure to be the area in The Great Sea known as The Maelstrom.
She stood precariously on a sheer cliff that seemed quite unstable. With every tidal wave that crashed into the bottom of her cliff formation, a little bit of the pillar was worn away.
The rushing whirlpool, stretching for miles in all directions, wore the surrounding rocks down with increasing speed. It wouldn't be long before Arkerya would run out of standing room.
Suddenly from down below, there came the visages of four spirits, each a member of her deceased family.
Father! Oh my Father! How I've missed you. I thought Arthas got you. I was sure that you fell to the worst fate. But you're here! In my arms... Arkerya stepped ever closer to the edge, trying desperately to embrace her father.
She reached out far to meet her father's open arms until she was only inches from his warm embrace. But the feeling wasn't warmth or joy. In fact, it wasn't anything. It was as if everything had left her presence leaving no trace of life, ground or existence. The void stretched on forever and the more she stared into it, the more it consumed her.
All of her body would soon be free of the cliff. A fools hope remained in Arkerya's mind that her father would reach out and save her. But the void crept ever onward toward her left arm and then up to her elbow. Soon, the blackness encased her body, then her legs, then her chest and neck. Before long the void had darkened her vision to the blackest black.
The darkness had almost consumed her. It traveled up her remaining free arm to her index finger, the only part of her body that could feel anything anymore. The final vestiges of hope in her mind began to fade away.
And then it came! A warm hand clasped hers as hard as it could and a strong arm and determined body heaved her from the void and cast it away.
It was not her father, however. Solwein of Lordaeron stood before her, his hand extended as a life line to hers. She looked back to see 4 corpses of her family aligned exactly as they were before in life. They were illusions to draw her in and she had fallen for it.
How can I beat Arthas if I can't keep my feet under pressure. Solwein had to save me again and he may not be there when I reach the lich king. Even though he knows I'm a failure as a paladin, even though he hates me, he still saved me. Why?
Arkerya wasn't ungrateful to Solwein. On the contrary, she was thrilled and truly thankful. He and Grudamere had lifted her from the void from which there was no return. She failed once before and almost a second time. Her survival of both ordeals involved Solwein's saving grace.
Arkerya had felt remorse before, but it was at this point that she began to truly repent. The images of the order's paladins entered her mind, their warm and colorful personalities restoring her sanity. Despair began to dissipate, giving way to a newfound affection.
Perhaps I felt this way all along. Perhaps I let hate blind me to what is truly important.
Arkerya felt an affection for Solwein that she hadn't felt before. Whereas he was once her master and mentor, he was now a friend and a brother in arms. Her faith in him had solidified into what she wanted to be friendship.
Arthas entered her mind again, but this time it was different. The image that came to mind was that of Solwein and her standing together against the lich king, side by side.
What a fool I've been. A somber smile spread across her face and a warm feeling that she hadn't known since the days she spent as a baker on a quiet, hillside village. She knew what she had to do. Her second chance would be spent standing strong against her enemy at Solwein's side.
Her hate was burning again. She always felt it in her stomach first, a deep seated seed of anger that blossomed eternally through her body. It would singe her soul if such a thing were possible. Solwein's warm presence acted against this mentality. Where before there was only a raging desire to collect Arthas's head, there was now a companion to help see her through.
As such, it was Solwein's soothing voice snapped her out of her trance and back to the cliff where she started. The wind had died down and the maelstrom had settled to a bearable current. "I will lead you to him. We will do this together, for the right reasons," he said calmly.
At long last her body cooled and the hate receded back under her control. In relief, she fell to one knee and hung her head, weary from her intense experience with the raging Maelstrom.
Solwein let go of her hand leaving her safely on dry and stable land. He turned from her and began walking up a beach that had appeared behind him. Master Solwein, I will repent to you. I will let go of my anger and follow the way of the paladin, the way of the light bringer. I will devote myself to your teachings. Forgive my ill intentions before.
Arkerya raised her head to see a sun rising on the eastern horizon. Clarity at last. Alright! I believe in you Solwein.
As sleep cradled him slowly downward into his quiet warm bed, Solwein eventually drifted into a dream. With the state of mind that he perfected every day, he slipped away from the dream's control into a lucid state. With the intense focus of his mind, Solwein had learned to make most of his dreams like this.
In his current state, Solwein possessed no real control over the dream. Instead, he remained a free spectator, able to go to any spot and any angle so long as it didn't interfere with the dream's elements. From his own private world, he both watched his dream unfold and guarded it from outside influence.
To a man like Solwein, sleep was the ultimate meditation. In his thoughts, no one who he didn't approve of ever had any influence. He was free to think deeply and while one sleeps, thoughts become material and play out before the dreamer's eyes.
For a long while, Solwein lazily drifted from memories of old and silly recollections before coming into a vivid depiction of a stormy sea. Solwein was high above the water, overlooking an outcropping of rocks.
A gale force wind. A fitting metaphor for the day's events. As he said the words "gale force wind" to himself, the great wind picked up, nearly blowing an unprepared Solwein off of his feet.
Further out to sea, just beyond the rocks, a great Maelstrom appeared, quickly swallowing the surrounding rock formations. In the midst of the rocks he spotted a person. He was so high above the rocks that he could not tell who it was.
From his cliff he leapt toward the rocks. He plummeted to the waters below and a formation of exposed cliffs. The rocks were his target.
As fast as he could he leapt from spire to spire, hale and thunder threatening to knock him off his feet into the raging waters below. I can 'feel' the hale and rain. This isn't a normal dream. I had better be careful not to fall into the water.
In his dream state, Solwein's nimbleness served him well as the weight of his armor seemed inconsequential which made him wonder why the other elements of his dream seemed so real. Am I not in control here?
As quickly as he could he leapt closer to the person who he could now recognize as Arkerya. In front of her were four specters, a man, a woman, a boy and a baby. Arkerya began walking forward toward the edge of the cliff and reached out to the ghostly man.
Solwein instinctively lunged forward and off of his spire to help her, but long before he reached Arkerya he saw a figure approach her from behind out of nowhere. To Solwein's surprise, the man was none other than Solwein himself.
The imposter caught Arkerya by the wrist and heaved her back onto dry land. Arkerya fell to her knee, muttered something under her breath and then disappeared.
The image of Solwein remained, frozen in place. The real Solwein made one last leap to the spire where the doppelganger stood in place. As Solwein approached him, the imposter turned around and revealed his true identity.
"She is the light bringer," the prophet said staring into Solwein's eyes. "You must have faith and not abandon her for only through her can you achieve victory."
"But all of what's left of mankind thinks I'm the light bringer. I slew an army of five thousand at least nearly on my own using a perfectly ordinary sword. She can't cast simple magic, her swordplay is amateur at best and she's emotionally unstable. How am I supposed to put my faith in that?" Solwein asked at a loss.
"Put your faith not in her," the prophet said. "But in the holy light. Trust it to guide you and her to the destination that fate has decided upon," the prophet replied. "I told you before, she is formidable and the light will not abandon her. But even the light bringer, as you know, is mortal. She needs you to make it to her destined fate. She needs you to drive her forward. It is your destiny."
Solwein wanted more than anything to put his faith in her. He wanted to put his faith in anything if it would relieve him of this unbearable situation. He knew that the victory at Stormwind was a major blow to the scourge in Azeroth, but somewhere, Arthas was rebuilding what he'd lost.
"She admitted to me that she had ill intentions in coming to Stormwind. She cares only for her own selfish retribution. The way of the paladin does not include personal reprisal. It is a selfless existence. To ask me to put my confidence in that is madness," Solwein said desperately.
"I ask you, again, to put your faith in the light. To not put your confidence in that is madness. You are letting your shame and self righteousness blind you, Solwein. Please do not go the path of the man who came before you," the prophet said.
"And who is this man, prophet? You speak of him as though he had great potential, but suddenly decided you were a fool and turned against you. You speak as though my predecessor simply turned a blind eye to what was obviously right. If I am to resolve myself to this young girl who can't even cast a spell, am I to do it simply because you say it's right? Maybe it is you who is turning a blind eye to what is right. Maybe you are what drove my predecessor from what is right," Solwein snapped.
The prophet turned away, staring out over the great maelstrom. "You know, young paladin, the shamans of Kalimdor believe that the maelstrom is the soul of the earth. When it is tranquil, as you see it now, their mother earth is at peace. When it rages, as you saw before, it yearns to return to peace," the prophet said solemnly.
"Your soul is in turmoil, Solwein. I understand your plight. The false title you carry must surely weigh on your conscience heavily. I cannot tell you how to come to terms with it. That is something you must find out for yourself," said the prophet.
"But find out you must, for if you do not, your soul will remain turbulent and restless, even in death, just as the last man's soul is." The prophet paused and turned to face Solwein again.
"Do you remember what you said to me in Durotar, Solwein? I told you that the last man did not listen to me and you exclaimed to me that man was a fool," said the prophet. Solwein grimaced and looked away. "You didn't and still don't know how right you were, Solwein. The last man that I speak of is none other than Arthas Menethil himself," the prophet said, hiding his eyes under his feathery hood.
Solwein had not been prepared for that. The prophets words stung. "It was his patriotism that drove him to pursue Kel'Thuzad and it was his zeal that drove him into madness. When Frostmourn took hold of him, all vestiges of humanity were driven from him and he became the death knight you know and eventually the lich king. Arthas was never blind to the truth. He was only a victim of his own valor. He put his faith in himself and used the light like a weapon. You know this to be wrong. Please, young Solwein, don't start down the path of Arthas," the prophet said, almost pleadingly. "All living things depend you Arkerya and Arkerya depends on you."
Solwein's anger had subsided into humility. He had forgotten that his faith once lied solely in the holy light. He had forgotten who he was. I am a paladin of the holy light. The prophet is wise. I can't act on my frustration and anger any more. The fate of the world relies on it.
Solwein looked up again into the prophets dark hood with a newfound resolution and spoke in ultimate understanding.
"I think I know what we must do. Arthas must be found and defeated personally. With each living man that falls to the scourge, their ranks grow larger. We must cut off the head of the snake. I believe you prophet. If all of our fates rely on Arkerya, then I shall work only to make her strong. I only hope that I myself am strong enough to succeed," Solwein said.
"Good to see you're still with us, Solwein," the prophet said, grinning lightly under his feathery hood. "I wish you luck, holy harbinger. I shall be seeing you again," the prophet said.
The world around him began to swirl and fade before dissolving altogether into Solwein's room. Clarity at last. Alright! I believe in you Arkerya.
The next morning, Arkerya awoke from an unusually good night's sleep to Solwein pounding on her door at the crack of dawn. "Arkerya? Are you awake?" Solwein called from behind the locked door.
Arkerya rolled over lazily and sat up on the side of her bed. Still half way asleep, she dragged her feet to her door and unlatched the bar. Solwein stood outside looking apologetic. "May I come in?" he asked. Arkerya nodded and opened the door for him.
Solwein strode inside and set the candle he was carrying on the nightstand. "Arkerya, I ha-" he started, but was immediately interrupted by Arkerya. "Master Solwein, I'm sorry," she said. "It was wrong of me to attempt to use you the way I did. I know what I said last night and I regret it more now than I can say. I had a dream last night. I stood upon the brink of the maelstrom. I was looking out over it and the ground beneath me shook and swayed as my family appeared before me," she said.
Solwein nodded in understanding as she continued. "I reached out to my father. I so desperately wanted to get to him, to hold him in my arms again, so I leaned out over the side of the cliff. I fell into the maelstrom and it was as though an icy hand grasped my body, taking away any warmth the world had to offer. I despaired. As the blackness took me, a hand took mine and banished my sorrow. The hand was yours, master," she said, looking deep into Solwein's eyes.
"When I turned around, I saw the corpses of my family. It had been an illusion to trick me and if not for you, I would have succumbed to the darkness," she said.
"You saved me. As Grudamere redeemed me, you brought me here and showed me a way of life that I took for granted. You gave me a new home and family. You gave me a real reason to fight. You have granted me a new purpose. I am eternally grateful. Forgive my selfishness, please," she said, putting her hands on Solwein's shoulders.
Solwein couldn't help himself. It hadn't occurred to him that the prophet might be tampering with Arkerya's dreams as well. He embraced Arkerya and pulled her close. "There is nothing to forgive," he said, feeling close to his apprentice.
Solwein felt as if a boulder had been lifted from his shoulders. Thank the light. "Arkerya, regardless of who the light bringer really is, I know one thing that is for sure. I am not blind to the fury inside of you. I said once before, you are pure of heart, and my opinion has not changed. The bond between us could not be so strong were you tainted by true hate. The fire burning in you is one of righteous fury, the very thing that gives many paladins the will to fight on. It dwells in my heart as well and together, I know we can one day return our souls to peace, together," Solwein said.
The two released each other from their embrace and gazed into each others' eyes. Solwein, feeling a little embarrassed now, looked away as he scratched the back of his head and spoke.
"There are only nine days left until it's time to move out. There's no time for rising late. Get changed and lets be on our way," he said commandingly.
"Where would we be going at this time of day?" Arkerya mumbled as she stumbled behind her changing curtain. "To the lake to practice magic of course. You heard the mage yesterday. You need to learn control and only a paladin can teach control to a person like you. I expect you outside, fully armored and ready for training in half an hour," he said.
Arkerya's face lit up anew as Solwein left the room. She undressed and redressed in her daytime undergarments before going to her armor rack to suit up. Once garbed, Arkerya strapped down her mocking blade, tucked her short sword into her boot and ran downstairs to meet Solwein in the commons.
He was sitting in a rocking chair before the fireplace and had a large sack of something on the table. Upon seeing Arkerya, he immediately opened the sack and removed lots of spice bread, bacon, sausages, two flasks of water, an assortment of fruit and two flanks of boar meat, which he promptly began roasting on the freshly rekindled fire.
"Consider it an informal apology. You'll need a full belly if you're going to perform today. Healing spells take a lot of mana so eat hearty," he said, digging in while Arkerya sat down.
"Healing magic?" Arkerya said inquisitively. "That's right. Arkhel refused to teach me anything else before I mastered my healing. He always said it was our greatest power and considering how many times it has saved my skin, I'm inclined to agree," said Solwein.
Arkerya nodded to herself and took a banana from the pile of fruit. "It is also because no matter how powerful the spell, healing magic can only create. You certainly won't be able to heal anyone to death, mana thistle or not," Solwein said.
"Is healing magic difficult to learn?" Arkerya asked taking a bite from her banana. "It depends greatly upon one's affinity for magic and one's intellect. Magic is almost one hundred percent mental and requires intense concentration and problem solving. When you get the hang of controlling your mana flow, you'll understand what I mean by problem solving," Solwein explained.
Arkerya took some spice bread from the bounty and took a big bite. "Do you think I'll be able to master healing before it's time to leave?" Arkerya asked hopefully. "Callencia told me that her hunch was correct about you on the day you arrived. When I heard that you stopped at the armory and selected a weapon without even knowing what you were doing, I was outright stunned. You personally have a great affinity for magic, but as with most cases of high volume mana pools, you lack control. I have no doubt you'll be able to master healing in no time. It's the more dangerous spells like consecrating the ground that worry me," Solwein replied.
I wonder if he's exaggerating. Surely I can't be all that dangerous. I mean, I did destroy the mages tower, but that was the result of the mana thistle, right? Arkerya looked over at Solwein, quickly becoming nervous about the days training to come.
"If all goes well, I anticipate you'll be able to master healing and at least begin to understand a destructive spell before we leave. At the very worst, I can teach you cleansing magic instead. Either way you will be exponentially more prepared for battle than you were before," Solwein said, noticing a grimace forming on Arkerya's face when he mentioned battle.
Battle... I hope I'm ready for this. "Does the thought of battle frighten you?" Solwein asked commiseratively. "It terrifies me, but for all my apprehensiveness, I feel almost eager. I've seen what the scourge can do and the thought of returning to that is horrifying. Even still, there is a part of me that wants to meet them in battle, even if it means fighting the good fight and losing. I can't explain it," Arkerya said.
Solwein looked into the fire, seemingly drifting into thought. "Me too, Arkerya," he said sympathetically. Solwein got up and removed the meat flanks from their hooks and set one on Arkerya's plate. They ate in silence for the rest of the meal and then travelled out of the city.
As they passed through the valley of heroes, Arkerya thought to herself about her attempt at magic before. What was that word? Arkerya ran through a list of gibberish in her mind trying to remember the incantation to instill runes into a copper rod. Protestatum? Or was it postratum? Arkerya scratched her head in frustration. Pretestim, prostruthum... "I remember now! Potestatum!" she said aloud absentmindedly.
A bolt of electricity flew from her clenched fist into the great stone bridge's railing, causing bits of stone to go flying off the to the side and into the moat below. Solwein jerked his head around and glared at Arkerya.
Surprised and utterly embarrassed, Arkerya hung her head. "Forgive me. I didn't-" she started. The mood had suddenly become very awkward in the valley of heroes.
"Rule number one, Arkerya. Never cast magic without a target. Free flying magic is unpredictable and can change into something more destructive on its own. Your target should almost always be yourself, the ground, or the enemy," Solwein said, never slowing his stride.
"I'm sorry, master," Arkerya said. "Try not to blow us up before we reach the lake," Solwein said half tentatively. When they reached the city gates, they turned west and walked along the city walls until they came to a waterfall that fed a large pool of water below.
"This is Mirror Lake. Are you ready to begin?" Solwein asked. "Yes sir! Teach me," Arkerya replied. "Very well. Before we begin, it bears mentioning that most magic can be done without speaking. It is however a great deal easier to learn a new spell if you know the incantation," Solwein said.
"The incantation for a holy healing spell is 'sana'." Solwein removed his glove and presented his hand to Arkerya. Solwein's hand lit up in a beautiful golden glow that radiated warmth and a sort of serenity. Arkerya was impressed.
"Place your palm on mine and attempt to cast the spell," Solwein instructed, turning his hand over. Arkerya looked at Solwein's hand and then quickly away, blushing slightly. "Well?" he said. Arkerya looked back at his hand and hesitantly put her palm into his. "Sana," she said loudly and resolutely. Her hands felt slightly warmer than before, but the effectiveness of her spell wasn't visible.
"That was a good first attempt, but you're radiating a great deal of mana out of other parts of your body. Feel the mana. Breathe deeply and try to feel the energy flowing inside of you. Then, try to send it to your hand when you cast the spell," Solwein said.
Arkerya took a deep breath and then tried again. "Sana!" she said again. This time, her hand began to glow a faint gold color. Arkerya smiled and looked up at Solwein.
"That was better, but you are still losing much of your spell power," Solwein said. "Close your eyes and try to sense your energy flow. You can do it," he said.
Arkerya sighed heavily and closed her eyes. She didn't really get the concept of sensing her mana inside her body, but the first thing that came to mind was blue smoke. She imagined that the mana inside of her must have been moving. The smoke in her mind swirled and darted around, almost like it was dancing.
She imagined the pretty blue smoke receding to the middle of her vision and then shooting out in the direction of her choice. "That's it! Your mana flow has changed. Keep doing what you're doing," Solwein said.
Arkerya concentrated on making the smoke turn gold and then moving to her hand. "Sana," she said. This time, her hand glowed much more vibrantly than before. "Very good. Now do it again," Solwein said.
Arkerya spent an hour casting the same healing spell over and over again. It seemed to her that she had gotten it down, but Solwein kept protesting that she was still casting inefficient spells.
After a while, Solwein told Arkerya to try casting without an incantation. This proved much more difficult. No matter how much she tried, Arkerya couldn't produce more than a feeble spark from her fingers.
"Never mind that. I didn't expect you would get it as quickly. Still, you should practice that on your own. It would be ok to practice anywhere really; just don't go trying anything else indoors or in a crowd," Solwein said.
After a few more particularly successful attempts at casting with an incantation, Solwein finally moved on. "This was a very successful exercise. You're spells are quite potent, if a little wild and diffuse. I think it is safe... well," Solwein paused. "...safer to try a destructive spell," he finished.
"Don't get me wrong, Arkerya. You're doing very well. Not all people are able to cast a semi decent healing spell on their first day. If we weren't so pressed for time, I would want to spend more time learning the rest of the healing school before moving on. But I think you should know at least how to consecrate the ground before we throw you to the wolves," said Solwein.
Arkerya was unsettled by the expression. "Alright then. The incantation for consecration is 'devetaten'. This spell comes out of your foot and is best used when battling multiple enemies on all sides. The area of effect and of course the spell power is dependent on the quality of the spell and the power behind the caster. It helps to stomp the ground when you cast. Go ahead and try it," Solwein said.
Arkerya bent her knees and steadied for her first attempt. "Devetaten," she shouted. A narrow crack instantly appeared before her. The crack traveled forward, narrowly missing Solwein and hit a tree, setting it ablaze.
Solwein, wide eyed, blinked at Arkerya, switching his gaze between her and the tree she had destroyed. "I think I'll observe you at a distance," he said.
Solwein walked over fifty meters away and then turned toward Arkerya. "Try to send the spell straight down this time," he shouted.
"Devetaten," she said forcefully. This time the crack was wider and traveled into the water causing it to boil momentarily. A dozen fish floated to the top, dead. Even from far away, Arkerya could see the look of disbelief on Solwein's face.
"That was... good. Your direction is still erratic, but once you learn to aim, you'll have it," he yelled.
The lesson continued for another hour before Solwein decided to call it a day. Arkerya was mentally drained in the most literal sense. Aside from the dull ache in her head, she felt as though mouthing certain words, namely incantations, was like trying to swing a heavy weapon.
"That's enough for today. You still have to attend the afternoon physical training. Eat a good lunch and drink lots of water. You should be fit for duty after that," Solwein said.
The two walked back along the city walls and then back into the city. Upon reaching the trade square, Solwein stopped. "I have business with the archbishop today. I will see you tonight. Keep casting that healing spell if you feel up to it," Solwein said.
Arkerya bowed and then headed toward old town. What a morning.
Solwein was greeted by the usual monk at the grand entryway to the chapel. "Greetings, paladin. Welcome to the Chapel of Light," said the cheery doorman. Solwein nodded and proceeded to the altar. After paying the usual homage at the altar, he called on the altar boy.
"Altar boy, come here for a moment," he said. A young boy came running from one of the side chambers to meet Solwein. "How may I help you, master paladin?" said the polite little boy.
"I seek an audience with Archbishop Benedictus. Where might I find him?" Solwein asked. "The Archbishop is in the basement. Shall I fetch him for you?" the little boy asked.
"No, I will go and see him myself. Thank you," Solwein said, flipping a gold coin to the boy.
The altar boy bowed graciously and returned to what he was doing in the side chamber. Solwein proceeded down the nearby stairs to the basement.
The dimly lit room was plain and dull. Not a single banner, relic or crest decorated the cold, stone walls. Only the bookshelves kept the image of a large cell from entering Solwein's mind.
Benedictus was at a tiny desk in the far corner of the room writing by candlelight on a piece of parchment. Solwein strode over to him.
"Something you need, master Solwein?" Benedictus said without looking up. "I'm here for advice, Archbishop. May I?" Solwein asked courteously.
"Please have a seat. I'll be right with you, young master. Please sit down," said Benedictus, motioning to the chair on the other side of the small desk.
Solwein took his seat and waited for a few moments while the archbishop finished what he was writing. Benedictus set his quill back in the ink bottle and finally looked up at Solwein.
"Now, what can I do for you, Solwein?" Benedictus asked. "I need some help with my apprentice," Solwein said. "Oh? How can a humble priest like myself help a mighty paladin in any way?" Benedictus mused.
Glibness was a large part of the archbishop's personality. Solwein had never cared much for it. Still, Solwein respected his abilities and had taken his sound advice on many occasions.
"She has magical power like I've never seen. As I'm sure you know, most casters with a high concentration of mana in their blood lack control off the get-go. Normally, I could work around this, but this is different," Solwein said.
"How so?" asked the archbishop. "A mage by the name of Jennea Cannon came knocking on my door last night all covered in soot. She explained that upon eating some mana thistle and attempting to cast an enchantment, my apprentice heavily damaged the upper floors of the mage tower in the city. This morning, I took her to the lake to learn to cast holy magic. She nearly killed me without even trying and then boiled the lake with a consecration spell," Solwein explained.
Benedictus cocked an eyebrow and paused. "She blew up the mage tower?" he asked. "Yes," Solwein replied. Benedictus paused again and Solwein could have sworn he heard a faint chuckle being stifled in the back of the archbishops throat.
"I know that you yourself had a very large mana pool of your own from an early age. I did not and consequently had time to build it up and attune myself to the magnitude over time. I never went through the difficult stage of learning to control a great amount of power that I wasn't used to. What did you do to learn control?" Solwein said.
The archbishop rubbed his chin. "It wasn't terribly difficult. But then again, I never blew up any ma-... mage towers," Benedictus said, stifling a much more obvious snicker this time.
"Can you tell me more about her? As you know, one's magical affinity is largely based on subtle, or not so subtle, circumstances that have come to be in the individuals life. Is there anything you can think of that makes her unique?" asked Benedictus.
Solwein couldn't think of anything that didn't make her unique. Solwein went with Arkerya's most obvious characteristic. He leaned forward and whispered in the archbishop's ear. "She was infected, turned and then redeemed," he whispered.
Benedictus pursed his lips and rubbed his chin a little harder. "I knew there was something special about her. She asked me a very interesting question the day the scourge invaded the city. She asked me what drove me to follow the light. I had to put some thought into that," Benedictus mused half to himself.
"I'm willing to bet she has a lot of contempt for Arthas, more so than any of us do. Did she reveal the details of her ordeal to you?" he asked.
"Yes, she did," Solwein replied. "It was quite a gruesome tale." Benedictus thought on this for a moment. "The answer I gave her in the cathedral was that it presented me with an impossible end goal, that end goal of course being to one day reach the light. I have never faced a vexation like undeath, nor has anyone else but her that I am aware of. It is hardly my place to say, but I believe she would respond the best to sparring," said the archbishop.
"Sparring? I would crush her. Magic isn't like a sword. You can't just arbitrarily cast magic at your allies. It's too dangerous," Solwein said.
"But it makes sense doesn't it? What better way for a person who is harboring a great deal of unbridled anger to learn magic than to blow off steam in a fight? I know she's a woman and I know you're a master of magic, but I'm sure you could show enough restraint to make it work. I'll tell you what. I am interested in seeing her in action for myself. I'll offer you my magic to heal any damage that is done while the two of you are going at it. What do you say?"
Solwein didn't like the idea, but what Benedictus said made sense. Arkerya needed to vent. From what she had told him, she needed to let some of that anger out and Solwein knew that Benedictus was right.
"She's feisty, you know. She almost accidentally burned me up this morning," Solwein said.
"I'll take care to keep my distance. I would be glad to attend her training," said Benedictus.
"If you think it will be alright, I'll take your advice," Solwein said. "Good, when do you plan to train with her again?" asked the archbishop.
Arkerya swigged the melon juice from her mug at The Gilded Rose. The sun had set and the city lamps had been lit. A small rain shower had drenched the stone streets, giving the city a certain glistening that Arkerya had come to like.
As she stared out the window, her thoughts dwelled on the day's training. Casting magic was exciting. When she managed her first consecration, she felt more powerful than she could have imagined. The swordplay she had learned didn't compare to the awesome feeling of magic.
After she finished her physical training that day, she had gone back to the commons to practice the healing spell. By the time she was exhausted again, she had managed a fair spell without an incantation. She had considered going outside the city again to practice consecration without reciting the magic word, but it was dusk by that time so she decided to go to the Rose instead.
The door opened and rang the attached bell. In walked Callencia who immediately strode to sit next to Arkerya at the bar. "Melon juice huh? We'll see how long that lasts," Callencia said.
"What do you mean?" Arkerya asked. "Allison, a bourbon if you please," Callencia called to the innkeeper. Arkerya got the point.
"So, I heard a little rumor that you and Solwein stole off to the woods this morning," Callencia said playfully. Arkerya's mouth dropped open. "He was teaching me magic! We didn't 'steal off'," she said, thoroughly abashed.
"I was just kidding. I heard it from Solwein. I came by because I wanted to ask if I could come and watch. Solwein said you actually managed a pretty good consecration. I'd love to watch your progression," Callencia said.
"Oh, well, sure. I suppose that would be fine," Arkerya said. "But seriously, you and Solwein seem to be getting along better than before. I take it you two had a talk?
Arkerya wasn't keen on the idea of revealing what happened the night before. Callencia clearly expected an answer, so she simply nodded. "That's good. I was beginning to worry about you two. He's very fond of you, you know," said Callencia.
"Fond of me?" Arkerya asked. "Aye. He won't say it out loud, but he considers you to be an honorable young woman and he cares for you," she said soulfully.
Arkerya couldn't help letting a crooked smile slip onto her face. She took a big gulp of her melon juice. "I'm glad. I was beginning to think that he didn't want anything to do with me," she said, half-truthfully.
"He's going through a hard time. I don't think it's my place to go into the details, but he's got it rough at the moment," Callencia said.
Arkerya could sympathize. The whole situation was a little bit out of control. Solwein had to be feeling all the politicians breathing down his neck.
At least he doesn't hate me. Arkerya had taken his dismissal the night before pretty hard. For once, it wasn't Arthas that had made her cry herself to sleep. She was extremely glad when he came knocking on her door the next morning.
"I can imagine he does have it pretty rough. The king, the mayor and every lord of these lands is probably trying to press their advantage and gain his favor. It won't do them much good though. Solwein doesn't seem like that kind of man," Arkerya said.
"It's not just these lands. The dwarves of Ironforge are also trying to please him. They have a paladin sect as well, though it is not as prominent as the Dawn or the Silver Hand," Callencia said.
"Truly he has a lot on his plate. I am thrilled he has the time to teach me," Arkerya said.
"He's pretty thrilled about it too, you know," Callencia added slyly. "I'm sure. It gets him away from the hustle and bustle of the city and his position. I would seek any avenue of escape too," Arkerya admitted.
"Well there's that. But that's not really what I meant," Callencia said. Arkerya looked over at Callencia who stood up, patted her on the shoulder, and left the bar after downing her bourbon and leaving two silver coins on the counter.
The next eight days were full of magic practice at Mirror Lake. Solwein had taken to sparring with Arkerya under the watch of Archbishop Benedictus. By the end of the ninth day, Solwein actually had to keep on his toes in order to give Arkerya a challenge.
Arkerya had expected to see more of Callencia, but she only showed the second day of practice. When Arkerya inquired about her absence, Callencia smiled and patted her gently on the head.
Over the course of the training, Arkerya had learned to call on divine judgment, cleanse poison and magic from her body and also how to give her Mocking Blade a holy enchantment to make it lighter to the wielder. Solwein was impressed with her progress and treated her to breakfast each morning.
On the ninth afternoon, Arkerya received a scroll with her movement orders on it. She had been selected to march to Andorhal instead of sailing to Light's Hope. This disappointed her and made her uneasy. All this time, she had been assuming she would be with Solwein in her first fight. It hadn't crossed her mind that they might be separated.
Going with her were Novacon, Tia, Kaonus, Ignas, Zhor and Dangiel. Going with Solwein were Peat, Callencia, Drogin, McDonagal, and Natarazono. Arkerya was, however, glad that Tia was going with her. The long march to Andorhal through the mountains would give her a much wanted chance to learn more about her.
Every time Arkerya had tried to talk to Tia, something had interrupted them or Tia casually changed the subject. Arkerya hoped to delve deeper into her past and get to know the mysterious girl.
Night came and sleep ensued. When Arkerya woke on the tenth day, she donned her armor and weapons, slung the pack she had prepared the night before on her back and set out to the rally point next to the deeprun tram to meet with her battalion.
On her way, she stopped to meet Solwein one last time and said a heartfelt goodbye. Solwein explained that goodbye was not forever and that they would see each other again leaving for the harbor.
After much waiting and preparation, she and three legions of Stormwind departed on the tram to Ironforge. Once they had met with the dwarven troops, the combined force moved north into Loch Modan, the Arathi Highlands and then Hilsbrad. Hilsbrad seemed familiar for some reason, though Arkerya couldn't imagine why.
As the feeling of the plague welled in her stomach, just as Solwein had said it would, the Western Plaguelands grew larger and larger over the hills. Before long, the feeling was overpowered by the stench of the dead and the trees became barren. Then, Chillwind Camp came into view. Arkerya's march to war had come to an end.
