Disclaimer: Warcraft is the property of Blizzard.
Chapter 7: Revelation
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"What are you doing, Varian?" asked a startled Arthas - seeing several Knights of Stormwind surround the Mag'har who had their own weapons drawn; they weren't many but they'd fight to the death nonetheless.
"Finishing this - the Dark Portal is closed, as is the danger we have battled for centuries. It's time to tie-up the loose ends," replied Varian, looking un-moved and un-remorseful in his choice.
"After everything? They themselves had enabled our survival!" said Arthas.
"Which is why, I offer them a quick death," replied Varian. "Or would you rather stand with them, instead with your own people?"
"This isn't right..." grumbled Arthas, feeling hatred boil inside him.
"So wasn't when Stormwind burned the first time," replied Varian, in similar anger. "Men I-"
"STOP!"
Arthas and Varian both heard the voice, and the feeling of being frozen still - with their surrounding becoming nothing but an arcane-purple haze and standing between them was Velen.
"What? What have you done!" yelled Varian, when the entire Alliance simply vanished, except for Arthas.
"I have come here, to stop you from making a mistake, King Varian," spoke Velen, as both Arthas and Varian felt un-frozen.
"Where are the rest?" asked Arthas, being more calm than Varian, but still feeling troubled.
"They are safe and fine - when you two return, they'll be none the wiser. Now come," spoke Velen, as their surrounding became blindingly bright.
XXX
The three soon found themselves in Lordaeron, or what looked like Lordaeron - judging by the ruins and the look of decay. The proud white-blue flags of the castle was torn and gray. The sky was gray, and the sound of people was absent.
"What happened?" asked Arthas, feeling shocked at his surrounding.
"This is Lordaeron. Ten years from now," said Velen.
"What! Impossible..." replied Varian, looking around. The mightiest kingdom of the Grand Alliance in ruins - this couldn't be true.
"Where is everyone?" asked Arthas.
"Follow me..." spoke Velen, exiting the Palace, as they walked through the woods, coming upto an encampement - where several soldiers were set up. They wore the insignia of Lordaeron, yet this was colored in black and gray.
"...how far!?" yelled a voice, sounding familiar and yet also not.
"They are two days away, my Qu-"
"Princess!" replied the voice in anger.
"Yes, Princess. I apologize," replied the other voice, exiting the tent. One was wearing the regalia of the Royal Guard of Lordaeron; the other wore a black-gray leather armor, padded with iron-plates and other armoring, the royal L on her tabard. A cloak covered her face, as she walked outside and straight through Arthas - she looked barely an adult, yet armed to the teeth, two crossbows attatched to her hips, with a larger one on her back alongside several curved blades.
"We are only spirits here, we can only watch," explained Velen to the weirdness.
"...can we hold them?" asked the hooded woman from the Royal Guard.
"We might. If the King of Stormwind hasn't changed his ways," replied the Royal Guard.
"...knowing King Anduin...he hasn't changed since his father died..." cursed the woman. "...but that he deserved, since he left my parents to their death!"
"What! I couldn-"
"Wait!" silenced Arthas, what Varian wanted to say - following the woman to a hill, overlooking the kingdom.
"...Marwyn..." asked the woman in a whisper, sounding angry. "...is this it? Our end?"
"...I don't know...but we've trusted you so far...and we've survived...Alleria..." replied Marwyn.
'It can't be!' thought Arthas in horror, as the woman turned around - seeing that face, the pale skin, the scar over her face and the blood-shot eyes, almost like they were red - yet it still was her daughter, Alleria.
"How can this be?" asked Arthas in horror. An equal Varian looked shocked as well - their two children at war, with eachother.
"The incident," explained Velen.
"What are you talking about! Give us some clear answers!" yelled Varian in anger.
"You want answers?" asked Velen, sounding a bit irridated himself. "This is your future, Varian Wrynn - in which you have died a month ago, at the hands of Crown Princess Alleria Menethil of the Black Vengeance."
"What..." whispered Varian, barely believing what he just had heard.
"Let me explain - in this future, Varian you had the Mag'har executed. Arthas dis-approved this, but he couldn't act in fear of breaking apart the Alliance. However this incident, caused minor distrust between you two...and it grew over the years."
"Fast forward to the second Northrend Expedition, the distrust has festered. You are winning against the Scourge, but your distrust causes you to act boldly, brashly and recklessly. Your friendship has turned into a full-blown rivaly between you two...and here is where it's broken."
"Here, Arthas you lead the final blow against the Scourge. Varian you lead from behind, your distrust and rivalry causes you to make a mistake, one that will cost you your life. In anger, you refuse to send support to your friend, when he engages a small undead force. But you mis-judge, the undead force is a trap and in your folly, you sadly send both your once friend and his love to their death."
"It...can't be..." replied Varian.
"...and in their death...does the entire Expedition fall apart..." finished Velen - as they stood upon the shores of Northrend. Dead men surrounded them, ships destroyed in the distance - and standing among them were three people, on opposite sides: Jaina, Varian..and Arthas.
"...how could you have turned on everything you've loved, Arthas!" yelled Jaina, defending a wounded Varian on the shores. "Your men, your friends, your family!"
"Boldly stated, by someone who hasn't felt the sting of betrayal..." spoke the voice of Arthas, now cold, hollow and echoing. His once proud and golden steel was replaced by dark and cold metal, his holy blade missing and instead was a large axe, and the crown of Lordaeron replaced by a more larger and indimitating head-piece with his eyes glowing in an icy-haze. "...I'll return the favor Varian...and show you the justice of the grave...and the true meaning...of fear!"
"...you've damned yourself...Arthas..." roared Varian, still in pain.
"...as have you, Varian Wrynn. Your son, has no worth for mine..." laughed Arthas in a dark joy.
"You won't touch her, you monster!" yelled back Jaina.
"...says the person, guarding the monster who robbed her of her parents..." replied Arthas. "...but she'll come around to her family...its all she has left. Eventually."
"I won't allow it!" replied Jaina, teleporting her and Varian away.
"...well see...soon enough..." laughed Arthas, as his axe glowed in blue/red haze.
"I can't stand this...please take us away..." said Arthas, seeing his evil-future. Soon enough they were gone and back in the ruins of Lordaeron.
"...and thus, with the death of both her parents did the once-Crown Princess snap. Her physique already wounded from an incident before."
"What incident?" asked Arthas in worry.
"You'll find out, when you return," replied Velen.
"With the Princess driven mad, and Lordaeron without its armies did the kingdom slowly crumble - the other nations unable to aid them, as several of their own leaders and people had died in Northrend. Slowly, Lordaeron fractured from the banditry, madness and undead from Stromgrade and soon collapsed - the survivours, who fled the kingdom and the loyalists, of Princess Alleria Menethil. They hated you Varian Wrynn, and that hatred sparked a war between Stormwind and the remnants of Lordaeron, redubbed as the Black Vengeance."
"You fell, King Varian - your reputation and kingdom, skill or prowess unable to save you from a vengeful, wounded little girl, who had lost her way in the tide of blood. And thus, did the cycle of hatred flood to your son and continue..."
Arthas and Varian looked around them - and now saw the bodies around them: some of Stormwind, the other remnants of Lordaeron. Only two people stood in the carnage, a blood-covered Alleria and a similary bloodied Anduin, who looked older and more hardened himself.
"...time...to finish this..." panted Alleria looking angry and sad, dropping her hand-held crossbow and pulling out a curved-dagger - one that had belonged to Sylvanas in another time.
"...Light-damned be...Alleria...that you had fallen this far..." said Anduin in equal pain and sadness, discarding his own priest-staff and drew a long-sword out.
"...Light...had abadoned me years ago...as it had us," replied Alleria, as she ran at Anduin dagger drawn and a blood-scream filling the air. Their weapons inches away from eachother - before they disappeared into mist, the surrounding turning into a purple mist as well, and three were back were they started.
"Is this...the future?" asked Arthas, after everything. "Is this our end?"
"Unknown - I see many futures, in many times. This is but one, there are other: some better, some even worser than this," spoke Velen, eyeing each man before him. "I don't know if this will happen, the future is always changing. This was just a vision, a possibility."
"But...it could happen?" asked Varian, shocked himself on what he saw.
"Yes - but this wasn't why I showed you this. The Legion instead is the reason you are here - your troubles aren't over yet. Though the Portal is sealed, the demonic forces will find another way, another foe to mold to their schemes - they won't stop, until all of Azeroth is in flames. Every person against the Legion is important: friend and foe alike."
"When will this be?" asked Arthas.
"Also unknown, I'm afraid. Maybe in your lifetime, maybe in their lifetime. Your world has the chance to defeat the Burning Legion, once and for all, in eons where many worlds had fallen. This I have seen, and it is what has kept my hope alive. Remember, what has been seen..."
XXX
Both Arthas and Varian awoke again, to find eachother back where they stood, just moments ago. Arthas standing in defense and Varian ready to deliver the death-order.
"Men I...order you to secure passage. I don't want any incidents with the Mag'har," spoke Varian, with the Lordaeron and Mag'har faction looking more relaxed, Arthas especially.
"My King! What of the orcs? You can't just let them wander around!" spoke one knight in suprise.
"We won't start imprisonment again, as that failed miserably nor will I have the blood of the young and weak upon my hands," replied Varian. "Take them to the shores, and make sure they leave these lands."
"You'll let them wander away?" asked Antonidas, confused about the Stormwind King' choice.
"The orcs from the Second War sailed away to Kalimdor and haven't been seen or bothered us since. Yes, I am letting them leave - for the sake of helping us escape and destroy the Dark Portal."
"I doubt the others will see it that way..." spoke Vereesa.
"We will take them," interupted Velen with his gathered draenei. "We will sail with the orcs and watch over them, that they won't threaten your kind ever again."
"Are you sure about that?" asked Arthas.
"We are as much alien here as the orcs, we don't want any hostility. We will go to Kalimdor; and seek the orcs who sailed there - if they are dangerous, we will deal with them," spoke Velen to the Alliance - several of the people there grumbled over it but accepted the outcome.
"Your kind is welcomed to join the Alliance, after everything that has happened," spoke up Turalyon with Arthas' and Varian' nodding approval.
"I thank you, but we would remain neutral for now, as there is much to do, before that," replied Velen.
"As you wish," said Arthas, as the gathered armies started the long-trip home.
"Paladin. One of us has something to say," spoke Grandmother Geyah, appearing on wolf-back near Arthas and Sylvanas.
"Yu'r blood' bratha. Hum'n..." spoke Garrosh Hellscream, wounded but standing straight on the back of the wolf. "Lok'tar!"
"He called you brother, bound by blood and honor. Whenever you need your voice to be heard, we Mag'har will listen. Victory, Paladin Arthas."
"In that way, I hope your people find a new home, beyond the sea," replied Arthas, as the Mag'har started to depart under the gaze of the Alliance and watch of the draenei.
"You okay with this Arthas?" asked Sylvanas, as he watched the orcs leave.
"They might be helpful one day," said Arthas, holding her close. "...one day..."
"Lets hope you are right," replied Sylvanas.
XXX
The funeral was set to be two days from now, the formal one that is, for the late King Terenas Menethil the Second. To be buried next to the late Queen Lianne Menethil in the Capital Cemetary - where Terenas would join his queen and his fore-fathers in their eternal slumber.
The news of his death was a bitter moment, considering next to the victory in Outland. Arthas being the most pained of the incident - his father killed by a traitor/monster, his own daughter bearing both the loss of losing and killing someone. It was the only time in years since he had lost his calmed ways - destiny, prediction or Light-damned, no child should've beared such a wound to the soul.
They themselves had managed to say their farewells - Arthas wasn't about to let his little princess go through more pain of the royals and nobility; she had managed much with the Greymane's and the Light-cursed being known as Katrana.
Their ceremony had been shorter, more a family farewell - Arthas; his sister Calia; Varian, who had been almost an adopted son and been aided during the Second War when his home and kingdom had been burned; Anduin, to whom Terenas had become somewhat of a great-uncle, since most of the Wrynn-line was dead; Alleria, whom had loved his grandfather the most; even Sylvanas, with most of her family dead or missing, had Terenas adopt a half-fatherly role towards her; and finally Uther, Terenas' oldest advisor and closest-friend.
The day, when the formal funeral and burial would take place, would be a Day of Mourning - both for the loss of the King of Lordaeron, whom had shouldered many wars and aided many of his fellow nations in times of need, and their people and for all the dead, who had died during the twenty-year war in Outland.
The day itself was gray, as if the world understood the loss of a great man, neither sunny nor raining. Many people had come to pay their respects: humans, mages, elves, dwarves and gnomes alike. It wasn't a joyous occasion, yet neither was it overly-saddening. They honored their dead and hoped that their future would be more peaceful.
Upper in the Palace, Crown Princess Alleria watched as his grandpa was carried through the streets towards the cemetary for burial - her father and mother were among the mourners below, as per their duties. Some of the people came to see their former king away, others had remained in their homes - nobody was judged or reimparted, everyone paid their respects in their own way.
Alleria had paid her respects several days ago with her family, and she was told that her grandfather wouldn't be insulted if she didn't come now; if she wanted to come, that was her choice, what really mattered was how she felt in her heart. Currently her heart was filled with sorrow and tears - it hurt, not in a bad way but it was painful.
"Hey? Can I come in?" asked a young voice, knocking on the door.
"Yeah," sniffed Alleria, as Anduin arrived in her room, dressed in some gray robes.
"How you feeling?" asked Anduin, taking a seat, near the window where Alleria.
"Sad..." replied Alleria, a few tears visible on her face.
"It'll pass, it's said that the ones we love, will always be with us," spoke Anduin, trying to cheer-up the sad princess.
"I know, it's just sad..." muttered Alleria, looking at the gray clouds. "My mom and dad spoke to me. Said, that one day, they'll have to leave this world like grandpa."
"Yeah," sighed Anduin, knowing the same curse, that he will have to face one day. "The Light' speaks that an afterlife awaits those who die - so they can reunited with their loved ones and family. You'll see them again, once you leave this world."
"I'know. Grandpa spoke to me once, about it. I was sad about his words then, but he said it was natural. So our children and their children could inherit our lands and pass on our knowledge," added Alleria. "My parents did ask, one thing from me."
"About what?"
"They asked, well made me promise. That if I ever felt lonely, in-pain, angry, broken that I'd never turn my hand on my loved ones or friends," said Alleria.
"Weird - my dad asked the same thing from me. That I'd work around the differences, aid them in need and in-time be a shoulder they could cry on," replied Anduin.
"They want to protect us," nodded Alleria. "Make sure we could be there for eachother...when they can't be anymore."
"This feels depressing, doesn't it?" said Anduin.
"The sad truth of this beautiful world," replied Alleria, leaning her head on Anduin' shoulder. "May I?"
"You never need to ask," said Anduin hugging Alleria, as the cathedral bells started to echo throughout Capital City; of an old king passing, and a new line being formed.
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A/N: Here are some of the changes to canon.
- Theramore is founded by the draenei.
- Garrosh Hellscream has declared Arthas a blood-brother.
- The dark future was just a reference, not the real future (scary though, yes?).
A/N2: The final chapter is done, final yes, as September is almost here and some of you known what that means. Due to that, I am sad to admit that this is where the Light of Lordaeron saga will end. I will be over-worked and swamped to manage any updates or uploads of this scale during that time, as thus to not make you endlessly wait, I am instead completing this one.
There will be a sequel, which I would dub Spirit of Lordaeron, which I will start writing sometime after May. A long time, yet one that I have unfortunately no control over.
Hopefully, I'll have some new ideas and plans by then - and able to see you readers and reviewers again. Necronicus