The One
"It's you," she gasped. "How-How is this even possible? I thought you were dead, Mal'Ganis!"
"Really, mage, did you think I was dead? You cannot kill a dreadlord. We are part of the Twisting Nether and each time we are killed it's only a matter of time until our bodies are remade, and we walk the planet again," he explained.
She shook her head. "So you're telling me, you just all of a sudden came back to life, found Kel'Thuzad and made your way here?"
The dreadlord's wings twitched causing her to jump in fright. He pointed a dark claw at her and spoke, "Watch your tone. You're no longer in Theramore. Oh that's right, there's no one left in Theramore."
A splitting rage unleashed inside of the grieving woman. Her hand burst into flames, and immediately she tossed the pyroblast at the smirking demon. The comet sized ball of flame soared right past his horned head, and as it dead in a blink of an eye he lunged forward and wrapped his claws around Jaina's throat lifting her from the ground. His grip tightened, her gasps of air the only audible thing in the room.
"How dare you! You come to me, and then you have the audacity to attack me?" Mal'Ganis shouted. She continued to claw and grasp at his hand, air becoming scared, a thin darkness closing in from the outside of her sight.
"Master, truthfully you wanted her here, and you did just provoke her," Kel'Thuzad informed the dreadlord. Instantly Mal'Ganis dropped Jaina to the ground her giant gasps of air sounding like sonic booms in the room. She clutched at her throat and heaved in and out, in and out, until her breathing pattern began to return to normal.
"The lich has a point," Mal'Ganis declared. "I sense the darkness within you, girl, and I would like to help you explore that."
Jaina stood up, still rubbing her throat and glared at the demon. How did he know about it? She had barely just come to terms with it herself, but he had known about it all along and sent Kel'Thuzad to find her? Dreadlords were known for their deceit and treachery, what if that's what Mal'Ganis was up to. I'm being played again, she thought.
"No one is playing you," Kel'Thuzad reassured. "The master has been doing much since you last saw him. He joined the Scarlet Crusade in Northrend during your expedition against King Arthas, and that's where he met me. Having lost one master he gave me the opportunity to join him, and from there he set off to Xoroth to claim his leadership over the Nathrezim now that Tichondrius had been defeated. Shortly after, as you know time flows differently in the Twisting Nether, Garrosh attacked you and your people."
"And as I'm always in need of more allies, I sent Kel'Thuzad to you," Mal'Ganis chimed in. "Having just lost the last thing in the world you care about, to the people you tried so hard to protect is enough to drive anyone to madness. I figured I could help you get what you wanted the most and in the long run we would both benefit."
"What do you get out of the Horde being destroyed?" Jaina questioned.
"Why it's one less faction to oppose me, of course," the dreadlord answered.
She laughed, "I simply want revenge on the Horde for taking everything from me, not so that you and your demons can come and stake claim on Azeroth." I knew this was a bad idea. I should have gone after Garrosh myself. I can't possibly help the Nathrezim just to get what I want.
The demon began to pace back and forth and the mage had to step back to not be clipped by one of his wings. He sneered at her, "Wouldn't it be so much easier, though? What has the Alliance done for you recently? They knew about the war parties and the attacks that were happening up until the bombing, but no one was there to stop it. They're just as bad as the Horde, together...we can bring them down."
He's right isn't he? Where were they when I needed them? When their people needed them, the Alliance didn't bother to heed the call. They left us to die to the psychopath Garrosh Hellscream.
An image of a young man flashed in her mind. He had gleaming golden hair and deep pools of blue for eyes. Anduin. As she contemplated on turning on everything that she held dear, the teenagers face flooded her mind. That boy meant more to her than words could say. Since he was an infant, she had helped look after him. She was practically an aunt to him, and the thought of betraying him froze her in her thoughts.
Mal'Ganis noticed that he was losing, her demeanor was beginning to change. I won't lose her, he thought. With an almost unnoticeable twitch of his wrist, he casted a small spell. To the human eye, nothing could be seen, but the dreadlord saw the dark mist falling all around the young sorceress. The spell would push the evil inside of her, hopefully crushing any remnants of doubt that she had in her mind.
I can't hurt Anduin. Giving into the darkness and destroying the Horde would make me no better than them. I've always told that boy that peace could be achieved. I have to prove it to him.
What did we really know? Naivety never did suit us. The Horde are ravenous monsters, and they must be put down. This is a known fact.
Lost in her own world, Jaina gasped. The voice in her head had gotten louder and more prevalent. Was she losing her mind? She looked around to see if there was anyone else in the room, but the only people present were still Kel'Thuzad, Mal'Ganis, and the numerous acolytes all bowing and chanting before the throne.
We? Are you...me?
Of course I'm you. I'm the darkness inside you, that you don't want to let out. It's a splendid idea, though. What happens if the Horde attacks again and this time they murder Anduin? That will be on our hands because we did nothing to stop them.
But allying with a dreadlord and quite possibly taking up arms against the Alliance? That's treason in the most ridiculous form!
Ah, but then you can protect Anduin if you see fit. This is the only way to get what we want. We can destroy the Horde and save Anduin from them and any future threats that clearly the Alliance can't stop.
The words dug deeper and deeper into her brain. Doubts and reservations she had were dwindling away into nothing. Having the best of both worlds left her nothing at all to be worried about. She could have her revenge and finally save someone she cared about. Plus the Alliance had never done her any favors, if it wasn't for the Kirin Tor she probably wouldn't have much human interaction anyway.
How did we get this way?
"Dear, I think you know, and I think you know the real reason you're willing to turn on the Alliance. It's not simply to save your precious prince. I could sense the speck of darkness within you when we first met. Do you remember?" Mal'Ganis asked.
Jaina hesitantly nodded her head. The memory of their first meeting came creeping back into her brain, and all at once a renewed passion sparked within her. She seemed to lose herself in the feeling, and finally she knew what had to be done.
"He told me to meet him in Northrend. He said that is where our score will be settled, where my true destiny lies," the prince explained. As he talked he continued walking around the cramped barracks, picking up any stray item and tossing it into the giant knapsack that laid on his cot.
With the clinking of his armor as he hurried around the room, Jaina had to raise her voice just to be heard. "Arthas, that sounds like a trap if I've ever heard one. You can't seriously be thinking about going!" she proclaimed.
"Why?" Arthas shouted knocking a nearby chair to the ground. "I'll do whatever it takes to save my people, Jaina! What do you care? You made it clear that you have no intention of sticking by my side!"
It felt like a hot poker had been rammed right into her chest. She took a step back and clutched at her heart. "How dare you," Jaina breathed. "Arthas, you slaughtered this entire town without even thinking about another way!"
"I did what I had to do! If I hadn't put them down, Mal'Ganis would have made them serve him as the Undead," Arthas shouted.
Jaina's hands flailed about as her temper began to rise. She knew the man was incredibly bull-headed and stubborn, but each time she let him get on her patience and this time his stubbornness had cost innocent people their lives. "Did what you had to?" she screamed. "You didn't even bother to look for another way. Instantly you jumped to cold-blooded murder!"
The prince threw his knapsack to the side and stomped over to the young sorceress his armor clanking loudly. He stopped when he reached her, their faces inches from each other. "Murder? Murder! The audacity you must have to use that word. I'm trying to save our people. Our people, Jaina. This was one day going to be your kingdom too, you know. You should probably care a little more."
"Care more? Arthas, I care so much about Lordaeron and despite everything I still think the world of you, but I'm not gonna stand by and just let you kill citizens without looking at other options, and I sure as hell am not gonna help you do it," Jaina yelled back.
Arthas reached down and picked up his knapsack and swung it over his shoulder. "You've chosen your side then," he declared.
"My side? What do you mean?" she asked.
Swiftly he strolled by her, making sure to knock his shoulder into hers, and stopped at the entrance to the barracks. "I have to protect my people if no one else is going to. You said you would never doubt me or deny me again, Jaina." The man spun around, his hair spinning with him. When he faced her, the pools of green that were his eyes were filled with determination, fear, and tears. "Come with me."
Tears welt up in Jaina's eyes as well and quickly overflowed, barreling down her cheeks, crashing to the floor. Her heart broke for the man she loved, but she couldn't possibly help him down this road. "Arthas," she choked. Without waiting for another word, he turned on his heel and marched out into the night.
She watched as the door slammed behind him, and as soon as it did she lunged forward and ripped it open. Maybe she could reason with him still. He was so hung onto vengeance that he didn't see what was right in front of him. Together they could figure this whole thing out. There was no reason for him to go to some frozen land that people knew almost nothing about, just to defend his people.
Thoughts upon more thoughts invaded her mind on ways to make him stay. When she stepped outside, though, she couldn't even make out her hand in front of her face. Smoke, soot, and ash from Stratholme had filled the night. It felt as if she was inside a confined space and had no idea where to go. "Arthas!" she let out a blood-curdling scream to the night sky. The sound echoed everywhere, bouncing off everything it reached, only for it to fall upon deaf ears. She couldn't see him, and apparently he didn't care even if he had heard her.
"Poor, sweet, girl. Did you lose something?" a smooth, yet rough and dreadful voice pierced her.
Quickly she wiped the tears from her eyes and spun around looking in every direction she could. "Who's there?" she questioned to the smog.
"It is I, Mal'Ganis, dreadlord of the Nathrezim," the voice responded.
"You! You're the one that's convinced Arthas of this silly crusade," she yelled.
"Oh no," he cackled into the night, "your prince was on this path very long ago. I'm simply helping him to fulfill his destiny."
"I don't believe you! Arthas is a good man!" Was a good man, she finished thinking to herself.
She continued to take baby steps through the cloud of smoke trying to find the voice, but he seemed deeply hidden. "What are you doing here anyway? He's on his way to Northrend," Jaina queried.
Mal'Ganis revealed, "I know where the prince is headed, and I'll meet with him soon. For now, I'm looking for you."
"Me? What do you want?" she pleaded, her heart beginning to race.
Sensing movement she jumped back and placed the Staff of Antonidas in front of her body. As she did an enormous claw appeared from the smoke and collided with it knocking her backwards. "Don't play coy with me, girl," the dreadlord warned.
Trying to slow her breathing she answered, "I have no idea what you're talking about, Mal'Ganis. What do you want with me?"
A dark laughter escaped his throat and chilled her to the bone. "I sense the darkness inside of you, girl. The hatred. The resentment. One day it's going to consume you. I can help speed that along for you," he offered.
She scoffed, "What the hell are you on about? Is talking all you demons do?"
In an instant a giant gust of wind flew past her clearing her vision for just a moment. The clearing showed her the massive form that was Mal'Ganis. He stood his wings outstretched, his beady eyes staring into her soul. Almost instantly the smoke engulfed everything, and Jaina was left hoping she could see anything. "The anger you feel. I can feel it just as much as you can," the demon informed.
"The only thing I'm angry about, demon, is you," she told.
"No. There's much more to it. You're angry at your people. You're angry at them for letting Arthas become what he has. If they had done something, anything, to stop it, you believe that you two would be living a perfect life together right now. You believe had the Alliance done anything to stop the Cult of the Damned, and never let Arthas get involved then he would be saved," Mal'Ganis explained. He cackled into the night.
A pang deep in the reaches of her mind seemed to awaken. She shook her head. There was no way that she was actually angry with her own people. Arthas was a grown man and knew exactly what he was doing. His foolishness is what led him to where he was, and it was no one else's fault. It was all...
If King Terenas had simply listened to the prophet, Arthas would have never gone looking into the Cult of the Damned. He never would have succumbed to the need for vengeance. Never would there had been a need to slaughter the townsfolk of Stratholme if simply they had all evacuated. So much of this blood was on their hands, if only the Alliance had...
A blast of arcane magic exploded from within her as she screamed aloud to the night's sky. The magic cleared all the smog from around her, and she was able to see everything clearly. Mal'Ganis had disappeared, and Jaina was left looking at the burning town beneath her. She had no idea where those thoughts had come from, but she couldn't push them aside. Instead of dwelling on them, she speedily headed towards the town to look at what her ex-fiance had done to "save" his people.
"They're the reason he's gone, Jaina. Arthas would still be alive if it weren't for the Alliance. Isn't it about time they do got what they deserved?" Mal'Ganis insisted.
Her mind swirled becoming more and more clouded. Reason and sound judgment seemed to seep from her head. She could feel herself succumbing to the darkness inside of her, but she didn't resist anymore. It was time, and she knew it. The time had come where she would finally get her revenge on the Horde, but also the Alliance for helping them take everything she cared about away.
"Kingdoms must burn," Jaina declared.
"Perfect. Are you ready to accept my gift then? With it, you can destroy both the Alliance and Horde and take away everything they've ever cared for."
Jaina agreed, "I am. I have nothing left to live for except vengeance."
Mal'Ganis raised his claws about his head and swirled them around. An emerald light began to swirl about them and all at once he pointed one finger at Jaina, and the other at his loyal servant. The light shot from his claws and enveloped both of them, levitating them into the air.
Jaina felt a rush of power, excitement almost threatening to consume her; however, Kel'Thuzad did not receive the same treatment. The moment the spell hit him, he began to decompose. Bones fell from his body, his robes deteriorated, all as a horrific scream left his mouth chilling everyone around him. As fast as it had happened, it was over, and nothing remained of him, not even ash.
Once the lich was dead his power seemed to flow to Jaina, but then she felt a change coming. Her body began to warp inch by inch. The once lively peach skin turned a shade of lavender. From her forehead, two enormous teal crystallized horns busted forth. Her normally billowing purple and white robes morphed into a metal, attaching itself to her shoulders, wrists, chest, thighs, and calves which led down to what now appeared to be hooves. Finally from her back sprouted giant lilac fleshy wings that flapped instantly and helped her to float back to the ground.
"It's a shame about, Kel'Thuzad. He was a fantastic servant, but to create a dreadlord requires a life force like any other. Beings he had been resurrected by the Sunwell, the power he held had that to change life itself. Most dreadlords are made within the Twisting Nether, it's amazing to see that this actually took to a mortal body," he exclaimed.
She should have felt terrible for the lich, but she didn't. She felt no pity, no remorse, no sorrow. The only thing she could feel was the immense power coursing through her body. Being a dreadlord is what she needed to bring down the Horde and the Alliance. Both factions would cower beneath her and feel the pain she caused them.
"I am ready to hunt," she declared.