Lost Lion
Disclaimer! I don't own Wow. Blizz does, and your soul too.
Volume 3: Chapter 1
*** Unknown Location – Somewhere ***
Well, as far as the afterlife went, this was odd as hell.
It started off normally enough; I saw a light tunnel, and I followed it since I didn't want to be stuck in darkness, no siree. I had expected to meet the being that had sent me to Azeroth, especially since I wanted to ask him if I made things entertaining enough for them like they apparently wanted. It was a bit of an assumption, but I was feeling particularly vindictive, maybe unjustly so. Of course, that didn't happen. Instead, here I was in my childhood home on Earth.
I looked down at my hand and saw that it was translucent and almost blurry. Truth be told, my mind was a bit foggy, and my emotions felt...muted. I knew I should be freaking out like crazy, yet all I felt was a strange sense of calmness. So, with that calm mind, I decided to take a look around my old stomping ground. The house was just as I remembered it: four bedrooms and an addition in the back. A quick look outside showed a four-foot wooden fence
It had a lived-in feel to it, even though I could find no traces of anyone being here. The fridge was stocked, the light switches worked, and I could see my old game console in the living room, connected to my television and in rest mode. After some searching—and confirming that I was, in fact, alone—I went into my childhood bedroom. It was just as I remembered it: not messy, but certainly not neat.
There was my computer desk, and under it, a box with the comic book collections I had inherited from my cousins. To the left was my twin-sized bed, and next to it was the in-wall closet. However, in the corner across from it, I saw my most prized possession. A tall black shelf reaching almost to the ceiling and about five feet wide could be seen across from my bed. Just like I remembered it, the shelves were filled with hard disk media and games that I had collected over the years.
Many of the images were blurry or hazy, and the words—oddly enough—weren't in English but in Common instead. There were game boxes of World of Warcraft and its expansion—all collector's editions—lined up neatly on the top shelf. Next to it on that row were game boxes for the Mass Effect trilogy and the FF14 saga. My movies and anime collections were in the lower section of the shelf.
I let my fingers trace the spine of my collection before I turned my attention to my computer. It was dated even by my standards, looking like it could use a good cleaning. Just as I was about to turn it on, the house shook as if there was an earthquake. This was odd since I used to live in the southern states; earthquakes were simply something that we didn't have here. I quickly grabbed my old computer chair to brace myself, just as bright light flooded in through every window in my house. It was so blinding that I had to shield myself against it with a raised arm. Eventually, it died down, but that left me confused as to what had just happened.
Before I could do anything else to assess the situation, the doorbell of my house rang.
'Who?' I thought. Slowly making my way to the door, I reminded myself to stay as silent as possible. However, when I looked through the door's peephole, I found no one was outside. Tentatively, I cracked open the door and blinked when I saw...something?
My mind should be reeling, but it was as if my ability to have an emotional response was gone. Whatever I was looking at was so abstract that it was as if my mind refused to wrap around the very concept of its existence. There were no facial features nor even a body, but yet I knew they, them...it(?) was being very polite and waiting patiently as I took it all in.
"Hm? You two want to come in? Uh... I guess. Sure. Why not?"
Wait... I was responding to words that I didn't actually hear, but somehow, I knew they did indeed say it. Moving to the side, I let them walk past me, and for a moment, I saw something. The vision was so overpowering that I felt my head actually ache.
Taking a hand to my head, I massaged my temple and blinked to clear up my vision again. A bit unsettled, I was just about to close my door, when I was greeted by a crazy sight outside of my house. There, beyond my fence, appeared to be some kind of skirmish going on.
It was as if my mind was refusing to process it. All I could see was light, shadow, blue figures, and something perhaps eldritch in origin as well as a big, bald, shirtless guy in the distance overseeing it all. It was all a jumbled mess where one blended into the other, as if fighting for dominance. Squeezing my eyes shut and closing the door, I tried to ignore that epileptic show.
"What…?" Maybe my guest would have some idea.
I turned around to find that it was no longer my childhood home from Earth. Instead, it had become my childhood home in Brightwood. The wooden fence around the property had changed from modern Earth to the ones of Lothar's manor.
There was also another strange change.
Though the skirmish was still ongoing outside, it seemed to be moving further away from me. Even the bald guy—who was oddly tweaking his...nipples?—looked to be further in the distance than before.
Confused, I was about to go back inside and have a conversation with that one being when something caught my eye. Was it a bird? A flying machine? A Gryphon? Whatever it was, it shined gold and stopped above the manor. Slowly, the bright golden ball of light began to descend in my direction. To my shock, I saw a figure I never expected.
'Supergirl?!' I exclaimed, but no sound came out.
Sure enough, a young woman with crystal blue eyes, long wavy blonde hair, and legs that seemed to stretch for miles hovered down slowly in front of me. She wore a familiar superhero costume, but she didn't resemble the television version; instead, she looked more like the lifelike version of the one crafted by the late great artist, Michael Turner. Her suit, however, was no longer blue and red with the 'S' symbol; it was now a pristine white that included a form-fitting top adorned with a golden 'S' symbol and a matching skirt. The pretty superheroine gave me a gentle, fond smile, and I couldn't help but return it with a goofy one. What comic book teen collector never wanted to meet a real-life, comic-accurate version of one of their favorite superheroines?
"Dear Callan," Supergirl's voice was melodiously soft. "You had me worried."
Heh. Heh. Supergirl knew my name. Wait—
My thoughts cut off when she moved in closer. "But now, it is time for you to wake up."
What?
Wake up?
Wasn't I dead?
Supergirl moved into my personal space, causing me to instinctively back away. She reached out to cup my cheeks with her hand before gently pulling my head down, making me realize for the first time that I was taller than her. For a moment, I thought she was drawing me in for a kiss, but to my disappointment, she merely had our foreheads touched.
"I know you have questions, dear Callan, but there are others who wish to see you return," she said softly in her soft, musical voice.
Suddenly, the surroundings—Lothar's manor and the distant skirmish—became a swirling mix of colors. I felt my mind drifting, no longer as focused. Then I noticed my body beginning to bleed away into the mix of colors too. Oddly enough, Supergirl remained solid and in front of me, with the gentle smile still on her face. As my world began to fade away, I suddenly recalled an obscure fact about Supergirl.
Wasn't her name K—
*** Stormwind Keep – Royal Wing ***
The first thing I heard was a soft groan escaping from my mouth, followed by the panicked sound of a chair scraping against the floor and hurried footsteps. Slowly, I opened my eyes, wincing as bright light stabbed into my retinas. As I adjusted, I sat up in my bed, feeling groggy and fuzzy-headed. I couldn't shake the vivid dream from my mind—something about the Jailer tweaking his nipples? It was fading the more that I tried to recall the details.
Oh well.
Next, I registered the sounds around me. Various birds were chirping, and seagulls were crying out in the distance. That wasn't right; Stromgarde Keep hadn't had such creatures for weeks. I even felt a breeze, which shouldn't exist in the gatehouse. It was then that I realized that I wasn't in Stromgarde Keep at all.
The room was clean and spacious, about two thousand square feet if I had to guess. Its stone-white walls lacked the wooden beams typical of such structures, and there was a single window that offered a view, though I couldn't see much from my position on the bed. Paintings adorned the walls, mostly depicting various landscapes. A royal blue and gold rug covered half the floor, leading to the soft, cushy queen-sized bed where I lay. There was even a changing divider close by, along with a full length mirror that was turned away from me.
"Wha?" I mumbled, seeking answers as I turned to the open window.
Glancing down at myself, I noticed I wasn't wearing my armor. Instead, adorned on me was a simple white, loose-fitting shirt and pants made of fine cloth. They were thin enough for comfort, akin to pajamas in another life. I gingerly rolled out of bed and felt the soft rug beneath my bare feet.
'Soft,' I thought, enjoying the sensation as I brushed my feet against it. As soon as I had my fill of that, I made my way to the window to get a better look outside.
What greeted me was clear blue skies, puffy white clouds, and the fresh smell of sea-salted air. It didn't take long before I recognized my surroundings—Stormwind City. In particular, the blue-painted towers and roofs were unmistakable. Leaning on the window sill, I observed the harbor below, confirming that I was indeed in the keep, since no other building had such high elevation in the city. I noticed the chapel was undergoing the transformation into the cathedral that I knew it would become in the future. Was I delusional? Hallucinating? The cool breeze against my face and the scent of the sea felt too real to be fake.
"How the hell..." As the last traces of the dream faded, other memories flooded my mind in their place: the battle, our last stand, my defeat, the surprising Spirit of Redemption, and finally, my... death? I instinctively touched my chest where Grom had struck me fatally.
No hole, no pain. Stretching the collar of my shirt, I noticed a faint white line where Grom's blow should have landed. Did someone heal me at the last minute? Was Liadrin able to reach me? Mara? Resurrection usually healed scars too so that couldn't be it, but I was pretty sure I had died.
I was pulled out of my thoughts when I heard the sound of heavy footfalls. A few months back, I wouldn't have been able to pick up such fine details. I guess being in the trenches with the orcs honed my senses like coal being compressed into diamonds.
"Callan!"
The owner of the voice snapped me out of my internal musings. I looked up to see my father, Anduin Lothar in all his armored glory, standing before me.
"Hey, dad." I tried to greet him coolly, but before I could get the words out he closed the distance between us and had me wrapped in a hug. It was firm but not too tight, perhaps out of consideration for me. After a full minute of silence, I cleared my throat lightly to get his attention.
"Uh... Dad?"
As if a spell had been broken, he became startled and slowly—almost reluctantly—let me go. Backpedaling a bit, I finally got a good look at him. The man looked okay. His armor was pristine with no dents that needed to be beaten out. The tabard was also nice and clean, spotless really, with the lion's head of Stormwind on it. However, his face was haggard, and he had a haunted look in his eyes since the start.
"Uh...you alright, Dad?" I asked with genuine concern.
The legendary hero of the Alliance blinked and looked confused as if he didn't quite understand my question, before his expression hardened. "It is I who should be asking you that question, Callan. How do you..feel?"
"Good?" I answered tentatively. "Why? Do I not look fine? I hadn't had the chance to look at myself in the mirror yet."
I moved to do just that when I saw my father shake his head. "No, you look hale to my eyes, but Lady Fordragon was concerned if she had cast the spell properly or not."
"Oh?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. Then I patted all over my body to make sure I didn't feel anything odd. However, other than fatigue, I didn't notice anything else out of place. "Her healing spells seem good enough. I really thought I was too far gone there before you arrived—"
That was when it hit me. I remembered the details of my last moments.
"Dad! What happened to the refugees? Sylvie? Lia? What about the defenders?!" I asked, on the verge of freaking out. I felt my father put a hand on me as if to steady my emotions.
"Peace, Callan. They are well, all of them," Lothar looked me straight in the eyes so I could see the truth of his words. "You did a very brave thing, my son."
"Not foolish?" I asked hesitantly. Sure, I made the decision, but what would the best tactician have done in my shoes? Would he have retreated and formed a bulwark at Thoradin's Wall? That was the more sound decision when all was said and done.
"No," Lothar said with so much pride on his face that it made me blush in embarrassment. "Do you regret your decision?"
"Uh…" I blinked and took a moment to think about the answer. Did I really feel bad about not abandoning Stromgarde Keep and not helping protect the more important Lordaeron Kingdom? After our time together, the answer came easier than I thought. "No. I can't say that I do."
"Even King Terenas does not fault you for standing with the people of Stromgarde, and King Thoras is grateful beyond words that you saved his son along with his people," my dad informed me as he smiled softly.
"Thor-uhh, King Thoras made it out?" I asked excitedly. "What about Ka-err, I mean, Prince Kael'thas and Uther?"
"They made it out safely, but not without cost," my father said. "Of the fifty thousand, only a little over ten thousand have made it back to our lines."
I winced at that. Including my losses, that was fifty thousand gone, just like that. "The civilian casualties?"
"We do not know," my father said sadly. "However, with those you and King Thoras have saved, and the many who were able to flee past Thoradin's Wall, that makes at least a quarter of his people"
"Jes-er, by the Light..." I exhaled and sat on the bed, feeling a mix of emotions. My father instantly became alert, and I had to reassure him with a raised hand. "I'm fine. Just processing the news and...well...also kind of hungry. How long had I been comatose…? Was I comatose?"
It occurred to me that I had no idea how much time had passed. Looking at my father, I saw that he had a haunted look on his face again.
"Dad?" I prompted, making him shake his head and take a deep shuddering breath.
"Callan, you have been bedridden for over three weeks, ever since your resurrection by Lady Fordragon." That was one hell of a bombshell he dropped on me.
My eyes widened as I processed what he had just said. So I was dead! Wait, who did he say brought me back? "Mara can cast Resurrection now?"
"Yes." Lothar nodded. "The Light answered her prayers in our darkest hour."
I looked at the white scar on my chest where Grom's axe had killed me. It was great that she did the spell, but judging by the results, it was not a perfect rendition. Since I didn't wake up right away like most resurrected would, it was no wonder my father had seemed so panicky and haunted.
Still, what was this feeling bubbling up in my chest? Oh... pride.
"Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle. " I smiled widely. "I owe her big time for that. Oh, and probably need to get a gift too for saving my ahh—err, me."
My father gave me a queer look before he shook his head as if he couldn't be bothered to elaborate on why.
"So, what happened to everyone?" I forcibly pushed past the moment. "Where are the refugees? How were you able to form such a big portal to Stormwind? Was Alexandros able to keep the Horde out of Lordaeron?"
My father pulled up a chair and smiled proudly. "You just woke up and instead of getting more rest, you worry for your people. The tales I heard about you are true after all."
I ducked my head and blushed but gave him a look that said I really wanted the answers to those questions. My father gave me a soft smile and made himself comfortable in the seat by my bed as he caught me up.
"I shall answer your questions in the order you asked them, Callan," the legendary knight informed me. "First, your final stand cost you another additional thousand soldiers, but the rest, all four thousand six hundred, were able to fall back to Stormwind."
'Ahhh damn...' I thought glumly.
"As for your people—" My father continued in a teasing tone. "—they wanted to wait by your side until you woke up. Alliance High Command had allowed them to do so but unfortunately, after two weeks with no noticeable change in your state, they were recalled."
"They were?" I saw my dad nod.
"The elven Ranger Commander, Sylvanas Windrunner, with her surviving rangers, returned to Quel'Thalas to give a firsthand account of all that had transpired."
Oh. Makes sense. Sylvie's primary goal was to get the measure of the orcs' capabilities. Well, she got that in spades now.
"High Priestess Liadrin was recalled by Archbishop Alonsus Faol to Stratholme to begin disseminating your teachings," my father continued. "She had offered to stay behind to be your caretaker, but the Order of Northshire—and in particular Abbot Winston, or I should say High Abbot now—assured her you were in good hands."
Awww. I was going to miss my little shadow. At first, it was weird, but I grew used to her presence.
"As for Knight Commander Stratford and Sergeant Falconcrest, they have returned to Lordaeron with the rest of the surviving army from the Siege of Stromgarde Keep," Lothar finished.
I digested what he told me and exhaled deeply. The loss of a thousand sucked, but it could have been much worse. "I'm glad that the king could spare the ships to send them back."
"Ah, but they didn't go by ships, my son." The taller man grinned at me. My eyes widened as I realized the implication.
"You mean they—that is, Dalaran—completed their portal project?" I asked.
"They did," Lothar confirmed. "It's not as perfect as Lady Aegwynn and the Archmages of Dalaran had hoped, but it does allow greater freedom to move key pieces about."
"And what of Alexandros? Did he form that bulwark in time to stop the Horde?" I asked. I suspected that he did; otherwise, Lothar would probably have been a bit more grim.
"He did," my father assured me. "From what I gathered, he had stripped the entire garrisons of southern Lordaeron bare to keep the Horde out."
'Good job, Alexandros!' I thought in relief.
"Dalaran sent the rest of their soldiers-mages because of the dire situation. In addition, I was told that Knight Mograine was also able to buy the services of the majority of the mercenary groups in the south. All of those, along with the Gilnean arm—"
"Gilneas showed up?" I blurted out and saw my father blinked.
"They did," my father answered me. "Under the command of Lord Darius Crowley a little over ten thousand reinforced the bulwark."
"And Ge—King Greymane did not…take issue with it?" I asked and saw the fame Alliance hero look at me strangely.
"Not that I have heard—why do you look so surprised?" Lothar asked.
I was going to say bullshit, but this was Anduin Lothar, my father. If I couldn't be upfront with him, then who else?
"Well, dad, King Greymane was never the Alliance's biggest supporter and sent only a token force initially," I told him bluntly. "Five hundred light cavalry when the other kingdoms, even Alterac, sent thousands."
The military leader stopped himself as he digested what I just told him. "But...he pledged his force to the Alliance, why would he not honor it?"
"One word, dad. Politics," I informed my progenitor. "Petty squabbling politics. The northern kingdom is rife with it. They're not like us in the south, but to be fair, we have no other human kingdom near us, so who knows if we would have come into conflict with them?"
"I see..." Lothar answered slowly as if he had never considered that fact.
I'd let him contemplate it later. Right now, I was still in the dark about the general situation. "So, Gilneas ten thousands, the Lordaeron southern garrison, Dalaran's remaining forces, and the mercenaries, is that right, father?"
Lothar gave me a nod, confirming the numbers.
As for Dalaran, they didn't have many soldiers left, so maybe three thousand at the most. I didn't expect much from Alterac because they were needed to guard the mountain passes, or else someone like Rexxar or the mountain ogres could worm their way right into northern Lordaeron.
"Although the situation is dire, it is not without hope, my son," Lothar informed me. "Using the portal network, King Llane sent five Stormwind legions to Dalaran two weeks ago. King Anasterian also sent a full fourth of his forces via the Dalaran portal to help reinforce Alexandros's positions. I imagine that, by this time, they should already be there."
My eyes widened and bugged out. "Can we even afford to send that many soldiers away? What about the Horde to the south?"
Lothar nodded at my concern before he set his jaw. "While there are skirmishes, the bulk of their forces are well behind their lines. We couldn't get our scouts past Ravenswood to see what they were doing, but the pressure along our lines had lightened up enough that the King felt that we were able to spare the soldiers."
Well... that was a lot to digest. That was when I remembered something quite important.
"Dad," I began. The seriousness of my tone made him sit up straighter in his chair. "Remember that orc you killed? You know, the one whose head you took off."
My father's eyes widened, and he trembled as he seemed to remember.
"You mean the one that... that..."
"Killed me, yes," I stated bluntly. I gave him a lopsided smile to show that while yes, I did die, I was very much alive now. Resurrection for the win. Shaking my head at the thought, I decided to create a believable lie. "He called himself Grom Hellscream and referred to himself as the Warchief of the Horde."
Lothar's head moved a bit as if not quite believing what I was telling him.
"We know that Doomhammer is the Warchief after you killed Blackhand," I reminded him. We knew this information because Garona went and spied for us before I left. "However, when I was up north and was informed of a second Horde making their way there... I got to thinking. Under Blackhand, the Horde was unified, but what if there was a schism in the Horde after his death? What if more than one orc chieftain replaced him?"
The shadow of the future Supreme Commander appeared as my father took on a calculating look.
"If that's true, then your speculation about there being a second leader was correct, and that means..." Lothar blinked his eyes as if he had hit an epiphany. He suddenly stood up. "Rest. There will be time enough later for talks of war."
As if to help him make his point, an acolyte with brunette hair knocked softly on my quarter's door before entering with a tray of food. The brunette's eyes widened upon seeing me, and she quickly inclined her head in my direction. She then greeted my father before setting the food tray down on the table next to my bedside.
"Eat and then rest, son. " Lothar gave me a quick squeeze on my shoulder before he left.
"I'll be outside the door if you need anything else, Lord Callan," the brunette said in a reverent voice.
'Okay...' I thought before I looked down at my tray. There was a half-roasted chicken covered in herbs and spices, assorted root vegetables, cut potato wedges, and a slice of thick chocolate cake for dessert.
God damn, I missed real food!
Before I knew it, I had completely destroyed the plate, cleaning that chicken to the bone. I was pretty sure if this were modern times, a doctor would have told me to eat slower. All I knew was that this was what I needed, and it hit the spot. I finished off the meal with a large mug of spiced apple cider and patted my stomach contently.
Leaning against the surprisingly cozy wooden chair, I let myself get lost in thought. My band, for lack of a better word, had broken up. Sylvanas was gone, as was my shadow. Everyone I fought and bled with had all returned to their home countries. My mission, for all intents and purposes, was done. The Alliance had been formed, and as a bonus, the elves were all in on it.
... where did that leave me now?
The dwarves were missing, but we wouldn't be able to get to them until we push the Horde out of the Arathi Highlands. Before, I would have said that we were screwed or in the process of being screwed, even with the Alliance forming. Unlike in the Second War where they had a full two years to train and get ready, the Horde was already on our doorstep. However, knowing that Grom was now dead... well, I expected there would be a shake-up in their command structure.
Even if Doomhammer could gain control of the full Horde again, it would take him a while to sort them out. That would buy the Alliance precious time to recruit and train a true Alliance army. With that last thought, I stared out the window and mused on everything I had learned since I woke up. Suddenly, I recalled a fragment of a dream that I had. There was something about Light and... Shadow?
Holding out my two hands, I called upon the Light and felt it envelop me happily as if I were a friend it hadn't seen in a while. My hand glowed a nice golden color as if to prove its sincerity before I let it dissipate. Then, I called upon the Void and felt its joy before the blackish-purple energy seductively wrapped around my hands.
'Still got it,' I thought with a pleased smile. Hearing the sound of footsteps outside my room, I let go of the Void and turned to face them.
"I'm finished with my—ay, Mara!" I stood up in surprise. I was not expecting her here, and I took a moment to drink the sight of her. She was as pretty as I remembered, though her red hair had grown a bit longer now. Her green eyes were still as bright as always, and she wore a simple cleric robe that accentuated her feminine beauty. "You're here!"
"I am," the woman replied softly. The redheaded beauty entered my room and took a seat right on my bed. All I could do was sit back and watch as her eyes roamed all over me as if she were looking for any sign of problems.
"You didn't do it wrong," I reassured her. I had a feeling she was concerned about her resurrection. "Don't worry, you'll get better with practice. Trust me, you'll get plenty of chances in the future."
While she appeared relieved to hear my words, she still had a troubled look. "But your body still retained the fatal scar. A true resurrection would not leave such scars behind."
"Uh bup bup!" I held out a hand and gave her a stern glare. "I'm alive, and I feel fine. In the end, that's all that matters in a resurrection spell!"
I maintained eye contact with her to let her know that I refused to let her beat herself over any self-perceived imperfection. Finally, after a full minute, she inclined her head in submission. "As you say, Callan."
"I do," I affirmed firmly. For a moment, silence filled the room before I remembered a couple of things I wanted to ask her. "Can I take this as a confirmation that the other girls can cast resurrection like you?"
Mara shook her head, making her locks sway softly to and fro. "It is not. So far, only I can do that for now. Though they have excelled, like many of us, in the offensive usage of the Light. High Priestess Liadrin told us of some of your feats. Would you be able to teach that to us?"
"Eh... maybe?" I hedged. "How's the martial side coming along?"
"Quite well," Mara said brightly as she moved on to topics she was more familiar with. "We've gotten much better at it after the remnants of the Brotherhood of the Horse were absorbed by the Abbey."
"They did what now?" I blinked. "So, everyone's going to be learning how to fight?"
"No, not everyone." Mara shook her head and gave me a soft smile. "Only those who show an aptitude for combat. We'll be training only those who can wield the Light and wield the blade, among other arts."
"Wait, what other arts?" I asked. The redhead gave me a soft smile.
"Some are better with the bow but can still wield the Light, while others could use Light offensively in ways that I think would surprise you too, Callan," Mara explained. "Those proficient with the blade are more numerous, of course."
"Of course..." I trailed off before I realized what was happening. "Does that mean Northshire is creating a military arm of Light-wielding warriors?"
"Not exactly. It's to be a new order for all who can wield the Light and are martially inclined." Mara smiled at me as my eyes widened. "Initially, they will be funded and fully supported by the Clerics of Northshire, though High Abbot Winston hopes that, in time, they would be completely independent. They will bring the Light to the darkest corners of our kingdoms and do what the Clerics can not."
My jaw dropped. Did... did they form their own paladin group? No, not just paladins, Light-wielding archers too. Wait, Mara also mentioned using the Light offensively... a Light Conjurer? Oh, dear. I was ready for Battle-Clerics. However, they had absorbed the elite knightly order of Stormwind and were merging it with the Battle-Clerics to form a new group.
Did I screw over the formation of the Silver Hand? Was this going to be the new de facto paladin order?
"I was told by High Abbot Winston that upon learning of it, Archbishop Alonsus Foal of Lordaeron would also be forming his own order of Light-wielding warriors. " Mara unknowingly answered my questions. "It really was providence that you have awakened now of all times, as the official ordination of the new order was to take place within a week's time."
'Holy~~~!' I thought to myself. Shit... this was really happening. After taking a few moments to digest what she told me, I gave Mara a put-upon look with no heat to it.
"Any other surprising news you have for me, High Cleric?" I asked with an arched eyebrow.
"For you, yes." Mara smiled softly.
I gave her a playful look that said don't play coy with me. Doing so allowed me to see a bit of the apprehension in her eyes disappear. "Well? Out with it."
"News of your awakening has already spread throughout the keep. By this time tomorrow, all of the city will know you have returned to us, and the day after, the entirety of Stormwind I would imagine," Mara informed me as if it should mean something.
"Okay?" I asked. "What does any of that have to do with me? If I wake up, I wake up."
"The King, upon hearing of your awakening, tasked me to see if you are hale." Mara's eyes roamed over me as if to double check my health. "And you very much are, judging by your appetite and lucidity."
A feeling of dread slowly began to take root within me. "And why would his majesty want to know the state of my health?"
"Because," Mara said as if remembering the orders by rote. "If you are indeed perfectly hale, then I am to inform you that King Llane Wrynn and the House of Nobles request your presence in the keep's throne room an hour before noon tomorrow."
'…god damn it.'
TBC…
AN: And so we begin!
First of all thank you to Icura for helping me polish this chapter! He working on two other story and still made time for this. BEASTLY!
I know this might sound old but to all my patron supporters, thank you for you continuing support. Without you this story would not be where it is today. Thank you for helping me along this journey! To the end!
Now as for this chapter! Thank for everyone for patiently waiting and I gotta admit the turn around from hating Callan to wanting to see more of him made me smile. Once could say we all went on a journey together from a doofus, to a likable doofus? That said, the story now begins Volume 3 or in anime turns, Char Counterattack! Now keep as for the whole beginning sections, I'll wait for the feed back before I answer and elaborate on that, I wanna see if anyone can decipher it. The chapter speaks for itself and Callan PoV returns and you get a hint of the aftermath of what happened, more will be revealed while moving the plot along. I know that Epilogue and Prologue might have bugged some people, but I'm an old school writer, and that is simply how its done. Thank you for your patience and hope you enjoy this chapter!
For those interested, I have created maps on other sites for this story that might contribute to your enjoyment. Feel free to DM me if you don't know where to go. :D
Once again, please considering supporting us on patron at "icuraandvahn" , Thank you.
Finally, as always, C+C and discussions are always welcomed!
