Jaina woke, her vision cloudy, body cold and weak. She was lying on the ground, she realized. Where was she? Her memory failed her. She heard heavy footsteps moving away from her, and then a few moments later she could sense a presence approach her. How odd. She couldn't seem to hear it.
"Careful…" an ethereal female voice warned her, "it will take some time for your strength to return."
She summoned whatever strength she could scrounge up, and her vision cleared. She saw a ghastly figure she recognized. "You…" she started weakly, before she forced herself to portray more strength than she had, "you assaulted Kirin Tor together with…Arthas!" she gasped out his name as her memories began to return.
The being's face twisted in extreme anger, before setting into a simple frown. What had she done? Before she could say anything else, the woman interrupted her.
"Are you looking to grovel yourself before your killer already?" she said in obvious distaste. Despite her attitude, her ghostly hands reached her own, and then solidifying, helping to lift her up on her unsteady feet. Before she could thank her, the ghost looked her up and down and an envious expression came over her. "You are lucky. He didn't let me keep my body."
Confusion washed over her. What was she talking about? And for that matter… "Why are you being so…amiable to me? We're enemies…"
The ghost's eyes widened and her expressive ghastly face betrayed some signs of pity. She said nothing and waved her hand over Jaina's body. Was something wrong? She looked over her own body and shrieked in shock. Her pale skin had turned unnatural blue…the color of the dead...Suddenly the woman's earlier words came to her mind. Killer…Arthas had done it…Her Arthas…he killed her Master, and he killed her…
"I am Sylvanas Windrunner, Ranger-General of Silvermoon."
"Excuse me?" the introduction caught her off guard, disrupting her depressive thoughts. She remembered the woman seeming frightening, but now she seemed almost friendly.
"You best remember what you once were." She advised her. "It's all that you're allowed to have; all you have left. I am Sylvanas Windrunner, Ranger-General of Silvermoon. But for the Scourge, I am their Banshee Queen."
"…Jaina Proudmoore…" she introduced herself while searching her empty-feeling head for a suitable title to bind herself to. Her eyes scanned the anteroom leading to the magical vault securing Kirin Tor's greatest treasures. Her eyes landed on her mentor, Antonidas… I'm so sorry. "…mage of the Kirin Tor…"
Sylvanas smiled at her -not quite beaming, but Jaina didn't think that it would suit such a woman anyway- and nodded at her.
"Well met, Jaina." She floated closer to her, and her thoughts penetrated Jaina's mind. "Stay out of Arthas' sight. He can force terrible seizures on you with just a simple gesture, and he just loves tormenting me. I don't imagine he'll treat you any differently."
He wouldn't, she thought strongly to herself, making sure to shield her thoughts from her Banshee acquaintance -an easy task for her-. Doubt, the worst adversary, reared its ugly head. He had killed her, hadn't he? But they were enemies…he had to. It didn't mean he would torment her like he did Sylvanas…did it? Surely Arthas wasn't that far gone…? Even in the privacy of her own mind her thoughts sounded delusional. She didn't air them, and thanked her, before closing the mental connection.
"Come, let's leave this place for a spot of freedom." The Banshee Queen suggested. "The Lich and the Prince are too distracted with raiding that vault to notice us slipping away."
Sylvanas floated away, and gathering her strength, Jaina followed. With each step it became easier to find strength where there was just death. Soon after, she caught up with the Banshee outside. She needed to make sense of it all, and for that she needed to learn.
"I know Arthas, but who is the Lich?" Jaina addressed her companion. "Azeroth hasn't ever seen their kind."
The woman was evidently displeased at the subject of the conversation, but thankfully entertained her question.
"Someone far worse than the cursed Prince." Sylvanas warned her. "I've seen Arthas show discomfort at the role he was to play; hearing he was to assault Dalaran gave him pause, hearing my jab that he seemed like he had someone he'd rather not kill there sent him into fury, never once denying that my words had hit true." Jaina's eyes widened and her deadened heart almost moved, but if the Banshee noticed anything, she didn't comment on it. "But the Lich…I had never seen it express any other emotion than joy at serving its master, and exhilaration at the death the Scourge left in its wake." The woman paused. "But that is not what you wanted to know is it?"
"Perceptive." Jaina commented. "Do you know how he came to be? The being's name? His master?"
"We are all servants of the Lich King, Jaina, and it is no different. Arthas slaughtered my people, to the single child, and used the powers of the mighty Sunwell to create this…monstrosity."
"Arthas created it?" she repeated in surprised shock. He had never known how to create as much as a simple elemental, much less a Lich. The other parts of her comment caught on, and she grimaced. "Sorry for your loss, Sylvanas."
The woman gave her a small, genuine smile. "You have no idea how pleasant that is to hear. None here in the Scourge care for my sorrow less it can be used to sow destruction among mortal men." She, too, grimaced. "And Arthas made sure all of me was a weapon. When I grieve, the living suffer."
"That's terrible!" She expressed in shock, and attempted to hug her to provide some comfort. Evidently the woman did not expect that as Jaina nearly crashed to the ground through the ghastly being. She floated from inside Jaina, and stared at her contemplatively.
"Perhaps this curse will be easier to bear with someone by my side who can still understand the pains of the once-living." As Jaina stood up, the Banshee Queen decided to answer the original question. "But, indeed, Arthas did create the Lich, though it had served the Lich King previously. Perhaps you have heard of him; Arthas addressed him as Kel'Thuzad."
"Kel'Thuzad?" Jaina repeated. "We killed him back at Andorhal." At Sylvanas' questioning look, Jaina clarified. "Arthas and I. Back before he served the Lich King."
The woman sailed away through the courtyard and Jaina followed. She seemed to be in thought. Eventually she spoke. "Arthas seems to have a habit of forcing his enemies to serve him."
They enjoyed a bit of peace in silence, before the Queen suddenly stopped. "We are needed back. The next phase of our plan is evidently being prepared for." She began gliding back to the direction of where they came from.
"Second phase? You weren't here to just loot the magical artifacts to use against the living?"
The woman shook her ghastly head. "We were after a singular artifact. The Spellbook of the Last Guardian. With it the Lich can summon our Demon masters to Azeroth."
"We can't!" she protested audibly. "The First and Second wars were horrible enough. If the Demons themselves make their way to Azeroth…Mal'ganis caused enough damage by himself."
"We must obey. It is the Lich King's will that the Demon Lord Archimonde be summoned. He wills us to obey; his Demon masters will him to obey."
She was learning quite a bit about her new allies, and about the master they all served. She put down the bile that threatened to rise up -she was not entirely certain it was metaphorical- and attempted to resume the conversation.
"You do not seem to be altogether bothered by this."
The Banshee stopped momentarily, and gave her a weird look, before resuming her flight. "I am bothered by my servitude to the Lich King. I am bothered that my race has been wiped out. I am bothered by the monstrosity I have become. I am bothered that I have not even a body of my own. These weigh heavier on my mind than the Burning Legion."
"The Demons will destroy all life on Azeroth!"
"As opposed to the Scourge? The Lich King would have us scourge all the living; the Burning Legion would do much of the same." Sylavnas paused and considered her words. "Or so the Lich would have us believe. My knowledge of the Legion is somewhat different."
"You worked for them before?" It was wrong, but Jaina felt some sympathy for her death dissipating upon hearing that. Surely, the High Elves did not deserve that…slaughter, and yet still, a part of her found it difficult to be sympathetic to agents of those who had caused all this, and so much more.
"Not personally. Ten thousand years ago, when the Quel'dorei were just Kaldorei, Queen Azshara and her loyal servitors sought to bring the Burning Legion into this world. Countless Demons had made their way through the portal the Queen had opened, but the Kaldorei managed to defeat the Queen moments before the master of the Burning Legion could step into this world. The Quel'dorei were promised great power should the Legion succeed, and while the Demons rained destruction over Kalimdor, the Legion did indeed reward the summoners." Sylvanas paused for a bit and clarified. "The Queen's servants were known as Quel'dorei; the Highborne. In time the Quel'dorei left for the Eastern lands, and became their own people with a distinct culture unmistakable to the culture of the Kaldorei. And now…the Kaldorei are all that remain. Shan'do Stormrage is pleased no doubt."
There was venom in her voice when talking about the death of her people and this 'Stormrage', Jaina could feel it plainly. She caught the words of sympathy she wished to speak, and instead addressed the more pressing question.
"Do you think the Burning Legion would let Azeroth survive? If it came to it, which one would you serve?"
"If it came to my choice, that would imply that the Lich King's will over me has evaporated. I would seek revenge from Arthas, and if any entity would seek to make me bow again, I would kill them. My people might have served the Legion in ages past, but I hold no love for them. Perhaps it would have been different if I was there all those years ago, but I was not."
Jaina grimaced, but a quick lunge of her head towards their target hid that from her companion. She could sympathize, but it was Arthas. Her Arthas. But, still, an ally is an ally. All she had to do now was to, somehow, betray their alliance to the Burning Legion, and free Arthas, Sylvanas, and herself, all without the Lich King being the wiser. Easier said than done, but she couldn't allow doubt to stay her hand. She could have stopped it all…She shook her mind free of memories. Sylvanas didn't answer her question, and she took it as an answer enough about her thoughts of the Legion's intentions.
In what seemed far too little time they approached the courtyard where she could see Arthas discussing something with the skeletal Kel'Thuzad. As if sensing their arrival, Arthas' head turned to greet them.
"I had wondered where you two had wandered off. Surely you weren't considering making a run for it?"
"Not at all, Prince Arthas." Sylvanas assured him in an unusually deferential tone. She had known her for barely a handful dozen minutes, but it seemed unlike her. She remembered Sylvanas' warnings, and assumed she wished to avoid pain. Surely she had exaggerated. He wouldn't would he? "If we had meant to flee we would not have responded to your summons." Ah. That's what Sylvanas had meant when she said that they were needed back.
"But you would certainly obeyed the Death Knight's orders to return." Kel'Thuzad chimed in with a voice that seemed to freeze her human mind, but her Undead body did not mind. She had heard many voices; Human, Elvish, Orcish, and all sorts of Elementals and Creatures of many shapes and sizes. None sounded so…wrong. That cold echoing empty voice certainly fit the Lich physique Kel'Thuzad now wore. Despite all that, Jaina could still hear shades of emotion in his voice. He seemed amused by the topic of the conversation, was her best guess. It was hard guessing his emotions from his skeletal face. The being turned to regard her. "A pleasure to meet you again, Miss Proudmoore." Before she could respond, the Lich cackled. She heard humor in the laughter, but to her it felt menacing. "Pardon me. I found the sudden reversal of roles amusing. When we last met, it was I who had died. We had met as enemies, and now here you are. Dead, and our ally."
It took her a few moments to gather her thoughts. "I wish I could say the same. I still feel anger towards you, and the Scourge." She reflected that it, perhaps, was not the wisest thing to say right now, and with a drilling way Sylvanas stared at her, it seemed she agreed, but by the Light, she could not bring herself to pretend to like that necromancer.
"You would be wise to reconsider, Jaina." Arthas suddenly spoke up, voice solemn and emotionless. Her head shot to regard him. "I had once carried resentment to my Master." He grimaced. "Not any more."
She could practically feel the glee radiating from Sylvanas, but before she could consider whether she was sharing the feeling with her on purpose, she jumped to take advantage of the topic Arthas had brought up.
"What had-"
She never got to finish her question, as Arthas turned away, marking the topic done for now, addressing Kel'Thuzad. "You were telling me about the circle of power you needed to be prepared. Elaborate."
"Certainly. We are in luck; the Kirin Tor contains a large surplus of materials we can use. I will go retrieve them, and then I will give proper instructions."
The Lich departed, leaving the three of them alone. Arthas looked up at the sky. He seemed to observe it. "We have plenty of time until twilight. Good."
"Twilight?" Jaina spoke up with curiosity.
"The Demon Lord I told you about wished for his summoning to commence at twilight." Sylvanas elaborated.
"Indeed. We will have plenty of time to prepare ourselves. No doubt the mages of Dalaran will sense the circle of power, and certainly the start of the summoning. We will have a fight on our hands." He turned to regard Jaina. "You should take some time to practice your new powers."
"My new powers?"
Arthas smiled at her -a challenging smirk more like it- and slashed his sword at her. A white skull surrounded by a sickening green aura shot at her. She instinctively raised her hand, and a wall of ice appeared out of nowhere to block the spell. The warm day had suddenly turned very cold. Jaina blinked in surprise. She was powerful when alive, but even then she could not cast a spell this powerful with so little attention.
"As you can see; The Lich King can grant his servants extraordinary powers."
Indeed she could see that. Suddenly she was overwhelmed by fury. "You attacked me!"
He had the gall to laugh. Eventually he must have realized her anger was reaching a breaking point, or perhaps he simply got tired, and the laughter stopped. "It was a Death Coil, Jaina. It's a healing spell for the Undead. I was betting that you did not know that. It looks like I was right."
Curiosity won over her fury. "How does it work?"
"You gather the necromantic forces of darkness, and command it to take the form of a projectile. The unholy energies harm the living by default, and serve to invigorate the necromantic bodies of the Undead. There's also another variant of the spell that targets an area, but it is significantly weaker."
She could detect hints of smugness in his tone. She suppressed a scowl. Arthas was never that way when she had questions about the Holy Light. It seems that her efforts to hide her displeasure were not as successful as she thought, as she could barely spot his mouth curl in a tiny self-satisfied smile.
Well, if this is how he wants to play…she gathered her newfound powers and unleashed a large ice spear upon Arthas. As he moved his sword to block the flying projectile, she cast her familiar Blizzard spell on him from above. There was maybe but a second between the spells, but for Arthas, it seemed it was more than enough. He let the ice spear touch the tip of his sword, and then to Jaina's surprise, he somehow guided the spear into the blizzard. Both spells exploded into a shower of sparks, but any that neared landing on Arthas miraculously landed instead on his blade.
"You might want to reconsider using ice against me, Jaina." He said, and his voice was oh so annoyingly tauntful.
"It's the runeblade, isn't it?" She wagered a guess. "That's how you were unaffected by my Frost Magic."
"In part." Arthas conceded. "But as a champion of Ner'zhul, frost bows to me, as it bows to our Master. Ever since I first stepped foot on the shores of Northrend, the cold did not dare to bother me."
"Ner'zhul…" Jaina repeated, before being struck with sudden realization. "You don't mean the orc who shattered all of Draenor at the tail end of the Second War?"
"I believe so. Whatever befell him when my late Father sent an expedition beyond the Dark Portal, I don't know, but eventually the Burning Legion got their hands on him and remade him into the Lich King."
He swung his sword at her, and the ice that had disappeared inside the blade shot out at her. "But as I said, Frostmourne is in part to thank for my defense against your spells. The enchantments the Lich King placed upon the weapon allow it to destroy spells weaker than it, and to absorb some as well. Even the Holy Light dimmed before the runeblade."
Balls of fire appeared in her hands, and with carefully aimed throws, she melted away the ice attack. "My other powers don't seem weakened…" she observed, "though it does feel somewhat wrong to use it."
"Fire was never an element that came easy to you."
That was true, she supposed. She would get used to this feeling, and it should fade in time. This could have hardly classified as a fight, but it was very informative. She wished to say something more, but yet again, Sylvanas connected their minds together, and paused her.
"By your leave, Prince Arthas, I will take her to practice her powers further."
Jaina saw Arthas glare at Sylvanas, and raise his hand, it lingering in place. The Queen flinched as if by instinct -though she did not appear to be harmed, nor could Jaina sense any spell being cast-, and the hand turned into a go-away wave. He wore an expression that showed satisfaction at her reaction.
"Kel'Thuzad is about to need my attention anyways. Ensure that Jaina is fit to rain destruction in the name of Ner'zhul."
Sylvanas did not need to be told twice as she grabbed Jaina by her hand -the Banshee's hand solidifying-, and pulled her away. Once enough distance was made, she hissed at Jaina.
"What was that? I told you to not draw attention to yourself. Instead you chat your murderer up alike an old friend. Whatever Arthas was to you when he was alive, now he's nothing but a vindictive attack dog of the Lich King!"
Jaina felt a smile creep up on her face, but quickly hid it after Sylvanas glared at her. It was nice to see that even in this…less desirable of circumstances, she had someone that cared.
"I'm inquisitive by nature, Sylvanas. I'm sorry to have worried you."
The woman's expression didn't change, but she seemed less tense. "We are lucky Arthas did not feel particularly vicious then. For a moment I thought he was going to force a seizure on me for having dared to address him unprompted. Anar'alah belore, thankfully my distressed flinch was more than enough to sate his mood." She shook her ghastly head. "Come Arkhana'dorei, practicing will serve our interests as well as those of the Lich King."
They trained for a few hours, and when she heard the summons, she felt confident that she had a good control of her powers. The only thing that bothered her now was the tiny voice urging her to slay Arthas and end this madness right here and now. She couldn't carry out this upcoming slaughter in the Lich King's name, the voice told her. On an intellectual level, striking now was the only optimal solution. If the Burning Legion was allowed to enter Azeroth, all would be lost. But whenever she thought to gather up her strength to strike down her companion, to then stealthily assault Arthas and the Lich, some unnatural force stopped her.
"You waste your energy, Jaina. This is the moment of the Lich King's triumph. He will not allow us to disobey. I haven't ever felt his will so strongly before."
Jaina's eyes betrayed her shock. She knew that Jaina had considered striking her down? Before she could say anything, Sylvanas shook her head in amusement. "I don't need to know your thoughts to see that you want to stop this before it gets worse." She floated to overtake her and looked her in the eyes. After a moment or two passed, she whispered so lightly that Jaina almost didn't hear it. "If guilt is what is unnerving you; you should know that the Lich King will take care of that in time. With each passing moment I find myself more and more uncaring about the plights of the living." Sylvanas withdrew and resumed her journey to their destination.
"That's terrible!"
"Perhaps." Sylvanas replied. "You should not fight it. If you would succeed, you would only be driven mad, always in mental anguish; yet still a slave to the Lich King. Keep of yourself only your memories for now. While we serve Ner'zhul we keep only what we are allowed to. We can always be turned into mindless Ghouls. I don't know about you, but I intend to maintain my sentience."
That Sylvanas intended to use that sentience to eventually rebel against the Lich King need not be said; both of them understood that clearly. Jaina followed her uneasily. She was, of course, correct. The harder she was pushing, the harder she could feel the Lich King's will press on her in turn. Jaina had to trust that the Queen was correct about other things she said; certainly she had more experience in Undeath than Jaina did.
As they arrived, they heard Arthas converse with Kel'Thuzad. "The circle of power has been prepared per your instructions, lich. Are you ready to begin the summoning?"
"Nearly. I've been reading through Medivh's spellbook. His knowledge of demons alone is staggering. I suspect that he was far more powerful than anyone ever realized."
With a sudden green glow, a terrifying creature materialized. It was enormous; its skin blue-gray, reminding her somewhat of the flesh golems Kirin Tor fancied for their experiments. The beast's horns were curved forward and up from its bald skull, and two enormous bat-like wings stretched out behind it like living shadows. Its legs, encased in metal adorned with spikes and decorated with disturbing images of bones and skulls, curved backward and ended in hooves, and the very light of its glowing green eyes revealed sharp teeth barred in an arrogant sneer. The books seemed almost kind in their illustrations compared to the towering figure she beheld. It was a he, she realized, as the creature spoke; voice deep and resonant, carrying raw darkness within it. Did Arthas have to hunt down one of these terrifying creatures all by himself? She was struck with an unshakable sense of guilt.
"Not powerful enough to escape death, that is for certain. Suffice to say, the work he began, we will finish... today. Let the summoning commence!"
As quickly as he appeared, he vanished as well.
"You would think that if there was any time for him to act, it would be in the moment of the Legion's Triumph." Arthas sighed somewhat bitterly. He noticed Jaina and Sylvanas. "Good. You're here. We have a few moments to go over the plan."
"Why didn't he?" she couldn't help herself. Her curiosity was overwhelming her. "It is as you said; our success here will be the triumph of the Legion. Why is he not aiding us?"
"Tichondrius is allergic to any form of hard labor." Arthas said with a sneer. "Sylvanas has done more to aid us, and she was my enemy for most of it. If only the Legion saw fit to station another Mal'Ganis to oversee us; he, at least, played his part with vigor."
That must be stinging Arthas hard. He was never fond of the lazy, and having one for a commander must be particularly infuriating. As she was about to respond, Sylvanas surprisingly interrupted her.
"The plan, Prince Arthas? The Legion will be displeased if we delay."
"Indeed. With any luck an opportunity will present itself for me to resolve my differences with Tichondrius. The Legion had not cared when I slew Mal'Ganis, perhaps they would likewise overlook an accident." He wistfully shook his head, and motioned to the circle of power near Kel'Thuzad. "Our task is to defend this circle of power, and Kel'Thuzad within. Pace yourselves because the summoning will not be quick." he made another motion, and a ghost appeared. It looked like campfire smoke had decided to darken and become a creature. The only thing that marked it as something other than mere smoke given form were the eerie green glow of its eyes.
"There are three human outposts where the mages are summoning in reinforcements. The mages appear exhausted and barely able to maintain their spells."
"Then we're in luck. The humans will have limited magical support until the magi recover. That's time ticking in our favor."
"Should we not attack?" Sylvanas interjected. "The openness of our location does not land itself well to defense, and we risk further reinforcements until the wizards are dead."
Arthas looked displeased that his implied orders were questioned, but seemed to relent realizing the usefulness of a good plan. Or perhaps his own fight against Sylvanas gave him insight into her strategic prowess. Jaina couldn't tell.
"You forget that unlike the Scourge, the humans don't have unlimited manpower. The Alliance lies fractured, and Stormwind is in its own turmoil. No, what we will face is what little armies are loyal to Dalaran. They did not keep a trained militia, but it was considered a great honor to assist the mighty Kirin Tor."
"It would be more beneficial to thin the herde of our enemies." Sylvanas insisted. "Fighting two groups at full power would be more manageable than three. It is not victory that is our priority here."
"To attack would either mean to leave Kel'Thuzad undefended, or to split our forces. If we attack a base and the two other bases launch an attack here, we risk failure."
"We should at the very least send small parties to harass the enemy." Sylvanas suggested as a compromise. "Perhaps an assassination force to slay their priests and magi. Either dead would significantly weaken our enemies, if not cripple them outright."
"Harassing parties?" Arthas repeated with derision. "Because that worked so well for you. Unless becoming part of the Scourge was your plan all along?"
Sylvanas eyes burned with fury unlike any Jaina had ever seen before, as her hand shot to her bow. Cruel smile adorned Arthas' face as he reached for his runeblade with the same striking speed as Sylvanas did her weapon. Before Jaina could react, Arthas slashed his sword at the Banshee, who in turn floated back with such speed that it appeared as if wind itself had carried her out of the harm's way. A dark arrow covered in the aura of necromantic energies shot at Arthas who effortlessly cut it in half.
"I don't remember the High Elf having these powers. It is the Banshee Queen of the Scourge that fights me."
It was all just to make some cruel point, Jaina realized. Arthas could end the fight at any time he pleased. He was toying with Sylvanas.
Sylvanas flew at Arthas, and he responded with once again slashing at her once she got close. At the last second, Sylvanas' ghastly form twisted, and just barely avoided the sharp blade, as she flew overhead Arthas, and shot one of her dark arrows at the back of his head. With speed unlike his form, he jumped forward, rolled, twisted, and in upwards slash of his runeblade, shot out a bolt of ice towards the Banshee. She extended her arms, and a shimmering green oval shield surrounded her; his bolt of ice shattering against it harmlessly.
Arthas stood up, and smirked. Jaina knew that smile. She could tell his point lay all but forgotten between both of them. Challenge was on his mind now, and from the looks of Sylvanas, she wasn't doing much better with her head clouded with rage.
"You could never do either of those things without the Lich King's aid, Banshee."
Sylvanas' hands began glowing deep green, as Arthas readied his blade to shatter whatever magiks Sylvanas planned to unleash upon him. This had to end. Now. Ice encased both combatants as she extended her hands; the left one at Arthas, right one at Sylvanas.
"We have no time for this!"
"The young sorceress is right, Death Knight. We must commence the summoning. The Lich King wills us to succeed."
Sylvanas turned ghastly, as did her weapon, and phased out from her ice prison. Jaina turned to behold Arthas, and he too was free; the last bit of her spell being devoured by the runeblade. The Banshee glared at Arthas with fury.
"This isn't over, Butcher. I will have my revenge."
Arthas proved her earlier point easily enough, as with a twitch of his fingers, scream erupted from Sylvanas, as seizures beset her form. Before Jaina could stop him, the seizures stopped; it had lasted only a moment.
"Careful, woman, lest you choke on your aspirations. You can no more betray me, then I can betray my own Master."
"Careful, Arthas," she mimicked with derision, "lest your arrogance become your downfall. If you were but a second slower, you would be dead."
Arthas threw back his head in laughter. "Do you really believe the Lich King would allow his favored champion to be slain by betrayal?"
It was her time to smirk. "I had already launched my arrow. Ner'zhul could no longer force my hand."
The laughter stopped. He appeared to be in thought. "True. But he could force you to intercept it…then again, there's precious seconds before he reacts that could be all the difference."
Curiosity beset her. "Sylvanas mentioned you gave her the power she wields. Couldn't you have cast the same spell of protection she did?" Jaina had never seen that spell before. Kirin Tor had shields of protection too, but none that looked like that.
"I hadn't the time, or the angle, to figure out whether her arrow was real or made entirely from magic." he turned to regard her. "It's called "Anti-Magic shell". As the name implies, it would not stop physical projectiles unless they were created solely by magic. Sylvanas uses a mixture of real arrows enhanced by necromantic powers and completely magical arrows. It confuses the living." he paused. "And, I suspect, for this exact opportunity."
He turned to regard Sylvanas. "You are of the Scourge. Remember that. However much you may yearn for your past life; it is behind you. Your life failed you, and I remade you. You fight with the powers of the Lich King and unlike the woman I faced in Quel'thalas. The experiences of your past life are invaluable, but you have a unique chance that the living do not; to learn from your death. We, the Scourge, are Death. We are inevitable. Harassing an enemy is for the weak. Even on the defensive, we are not lacking in strength, nor resources."
"Of course, Prince Arthas." she spat with eyes full of fury.
"Good. Now, if you truly understand, then feel free to select a small amount of the Undead here and go east. Either strike and bring victory; or remain in defense of our eastern flank. The rest of the Scourge will remain here to protect Kel'thuzad." Silence was his answer, and he elaborated. "You have a chance to prove your judgment to me. Whatever you choose, woman, do not fail me."
Sylvanas nodded, and waited not even a moment. She was as eager to get from his presence, as Jaina suspected, Arthas was. Sylvanas stopped only momentarily - to commandeer four ghouls, two of those stitched up large creatures alike the one she and Arthas had faced along the King's Road, and a handful of banshees, before leaving completely.
Surge of power diverted her attention to the circle of power, and the Lich that had just entered it. The Spellbook -of the last Guardian Medivh if she had heard correctly- floated open before his face. He appeared to be in great concentration, and with each passing moment, the flowing power became greater and greater.
"Steel yourselves! The enemy will soon foolishly advance. With their deaths, the Lich King's Triumph will be sealed!"
The Undead -which retained some sort of sentience- cheered and roared at Arthas' words. The Scourge, it seemed, was ready and waiting. Her own powers were ready too, even though her mind was less so. She regarded Kel'thuzad, and again considered striking him down. The freezing will of the Lich King stopped her in her tracks. She sighed. It was as Sylvanas had said. The Lich King would not permit them to disobey in the moment of his triumph.
She turned her back to the Lich, and approached Arthas.
"Do you expect Sylvanas to succeed?"
Arthas thought for a moment. "I am more concerned with seeing the Human response to her attack. It will clue us in to their commanders' priorities. Will the base be left to fend for itself with minimal to no reinforcements, so they can send a bigger wave here? Will they prioritize security and stability over their main objective?" he paused for a moment, and then answered her question more directly. "Her attack force was small. Bigger than I would have liked, but the majority of it were banshees. She knew I would object if the bulk of her forces were Abominations. Even with a force so small, and somewhat fragile, she'll win. If only to not give me the satisfaction of seeking her fail…not that this would be a good time to indulge in that."
"Why are you so cruel to her?"
He gave her a weird look. "Jaina…we are the Scourge. We aim to cleanse the world of the living…and you are upset about me being mean? Besides, she annoys me."
"That's hardly a reason for torture!"
"Perhaps. But it serves as a form of amusement. As does her defiance. Kel'thuzad and I have long since accepted our role in the Lich King's grand plan. Instead Sylvanas seethes. In time, she too, will accept her place." Arthas motioned to the west. "Take half of the remaining Undead and defend our western flank. I'll defend from the north. The Shades will patrol in large area around us to make sure the Humans don't plan a secret flanking maneuver."
Indeed, Sylvanas was seething. She hated serving Arthas. She despised the chains that bound her to the Lich King. She loathed what had happened to her people - all dead or turned Undead. Still, if she falters now, she was certain that Ner'zhul would take from her even that. She could not allow it. Unlike their traitorous prince Kael'thas, she had a duty to her people.
She approached what looked like two giant slabs of stone pressed against one another, each end flowing into a sizable rock wall. She could sense magic in the structures, but faint. She suspected that the first thing these human Magi did was establish these defenses. This posed a problem. She was certain the Magi used the Arcane to open this door, and while in life, her body was full of Arcane, the little of it she knew was just enough to augment her combat abilities. This was beyond her skills. She shook her head, and drew a challenging smirk. If they thought this was enough to stop her, they were sorely mistaken.
Despite her tormentor's warnings, she still opted to dismiss the 'overwhelming force' approach for now. She commanded her Undead to move away from the slabs, and press themselves against the wall to limit visibility, as she and her sisters flew up the top of the wall. She surveyed the blissfully unaware humans. Soon enough she found what she was looking for. While the Magi were not in this outpost, the Humans did have a commander.
"Become as transparent as you can, Sisters, and follow me."
Sylvanas dived away from the wall, making herself as see-through as she could, and flew alongside the ground with all the speed she could muster. As she expected, her banshee sisters kept up even if it was a foot or two behind her. They approached the Human warriors, and Sylvanas solidified her hands as she seized their leader and pulled up sharp, making a semioval turn, and flying back to the other side of the wall as fast as she could. Her compatriots grabbed what other soldiers they could and followed her lead. She reveled in all the shouts and screams -of both fear and confusion; from both their prisoners, and those below- and when she flew past the wall, she dumped her cargo on the ground, as did the Banshees. The Humans would be in heavy pain, and with any luck, with a few broken bones, but alive. She needed them to scream, vail, speak, for her plan to work.
Arthas wanted her to act more like an Undead monster? She could do that. She could be more of a monster than he could ever handle.
"Get the Mages! We have to open the doors before the Undead kill the commander!"
"Don't be stupid! There's no way the damned dead haven't killed them already! There's nothing those savages love more than murder!"
The argument between Knight Damion and a footman Hamilton was stopped by a loud pained wail outside the walls. Both of them recognised the voice.
"He is alive! If we hurry we can still save him! Get the damn Mages here!" Hamilton exclaimed as he looked around. He was not fast enough to get to them fast enough, not even if he took off his heavy armor. He knew they had a runner here for communication. He just needed to find him.
"Nonsense. Even if the Magi weren't exhausted by transporting reinforcements, all we would do is open ourselves to the Undead. The commander wouldn't want us to fail in our mission because he got caught off guard."
"They are our friends, our comrades, Damion!" Hamilton retorted, outraged. "We can't just leave them there to die!"
There were more wails now; of both the commander and other stolen men. It was difficult to exactly determine what was being said, but one thing was certain; there was a lot of begging, and pleading.
"To hell with this!" Hamilton said before his friend could respond and he ran over to a nearby unmanned mortar -the dwarven owner had retreated to the makeshift barracks to get drunk as soon as he arrived-, and before anyone could stop him, he shot the mortar shell at the slab-entrance.
There was a loud boom, and then silence. The calm before the storm as everyone stood in shock at what had just occurred. Hamilton quickly shook himself off this trance and rushed at the newly made entrance, before he was stopped dead in his tracks by an eerie haunting laughter. As if some haunted choir, the laughter was soon echoed by many other ghastly voices.
The last thing he saw was a dark arrow heading towards him.
The fools actually fell for it, Sylvanas laughed to herself. It had been clearly a trap, one designed to give her forces a more advantageous beachhead. Afterall, while she and her forces were strong, they could hardly carry the Abominations up the wall.
The ghouls jumped at her prisoners, and finished their lives, as Sylvanas conjured up an arrow and nocked it in her bow. She aimed at their 'savior' and launched it. It flew true, to no surprise, and pierced the human male's head through the eye slit in the helmet.
Her Banshee sisters erupted from the hole to cause mayhem and distract the humans enough for the Abominations to climb through.
"Breach! THE UNDEAD HAVE BREACHED THE WALL! Sound the alarm!" was what Sylvanas had heard, as she sighed. Truly, they did not want to make it easy. She quickly repositioned herself on the top of the wall, and located a soldier running for a large bell that looked to be too fine made for such short demand. She nocked her arrow into place, a real one this time, and empowered it with her magic. This was a finely made elvish arrow, and could certainly pierce the metal armor the Humans wore. Still, the long distance would make it a hard shot.
The arrow pierced the back of the soldier's head, and the arrow exploded in a burst of necromantic energy. For a few moments Sylvanas allowed herself to bask in the deep elvish pride she felt at such expert marksmanship. Then the time came to resume the battle. The body rose -as did the body of the one she had killed earlier- as Undead. They lacked the more natural, if one could call Undeath that, features of the Undead that Arthas could raise. They were barely more dexterous than Ghouls, and lacked their speed. But it did well to sow despair among the comrades, and were an extra body besides. Her dead heart shuddered uncomfortably. She now knew better than to underestimate this benefit.
Her head fell back, her arms spreading as her mouth opened, and a cry, beautiful and terrible all at once, was torn from her throat. The lucky of the humans fell to their knees, clutching their ears that had begun to bleed. The unlucky ones suffered their very bones breaking before them. Her Undead made short work of those who had fallen victim to her scream.
"Press the attack! Let none survive!"
The Undead rushed at the remaining humans; those that had been far enough to remain more or less unscathed. Soon the entire outpost was cleared out, with the sole exception of the barracks. The commotion, it seems, have woken up whomever was inside preparing for the final attack against the Scourge. From the makeshift-barrack doors Dwarves spilled out with what looked to be a few horseless knights. They were quickly disposed of. Her own voice whispered in the back of her head, and she seethed. It was true. What she had accomplished here with ease would have been impossible for her before as brazenly. It burned her to think that she had become grander for having been forced into the Lich King's service.
She gathered all of her anger. It would serve to sharpen her arrows against her enemies. One of her banshee sisters, Sharlindra, approached her.
"Should we requisition reinforcements and acolytes from the main force to better hold this line?"
"No." Sylvanas said curtly. "We will press on. The second human outpost will fall to our forces too."
"The Death Knight bid us go no further, Mistress."
"Damn the prince. He wanted to see my judgment? My tactics? The strength of my people? I will show him. He can choke on it all if he likes."
"Mistress?"
"We're pressing on. If Arthas is even half the tactician he imagines himself to be, his shades will be observing our progress."
'Know that your fate, theirs, and that of your people rests upon your choices' he had once told her, moments after her death. It was not only rage that drove her; not only pride to show herself as better; but it was fear that drove her too. Not fear for herself, but for the scraps that are left of her people. She had to not just listen, but to see as well. Whatever thing can claim to know that deprived mind?
She floated forward and her troops followed. The line was broken recently enough, and runners never made it out. You're learning from him. She cast the traitorous thought aside. The inner outpost will be left vulnerable and open to attack. If she fails to seize the moment and she loses the element of surprise, she has little chance of seizing the outpost. Certainly if the magi were there, as she rather suspected they were. Even when exhausted, it was unwise to expect them to not have a trick or two ready. Or perhaps she was overestimating them, and fighting as she would an Elf.
She reached the park area, and floated herself up one of the trees to observe her enemies. Hidden within the leaves, and transparent, they'd be hard pressed to divine her from a distance without magical means. There were two paths to the outpost; one south of the outpost, and the other east. Plan quickly formed in her mind. Her brutes will attack from the south, starting the moment of surprise and disarray. She and her sisters would make themselves as blank to the eye as they could and fly towards the center, seeking out powerful forces to possess. Turning those possessed troops back south would effectively have the enemies southern flank surrounded…bar an exit to the west...and the east. She hadn't the forces to both seize the moment, and cover up all entrances. Even as such, it would be a difficult task. Though, perhaps if she could destroy one of the walls? With the southern enemies dead or escaped, she could easily plug up the remaining holes, and turn her attention on the northern flank. It would all be a lot simpler if she could scream once more, however much she despised the feeling of her sorrows overflowing and bursting through, but she did not dare in case the magi had replenishments of mana, and could turn her scream against her forces.
She ordered her forces to take their positions, and ordered them to strike before moving besides her banshee sisters.
"Prince Arthas, Sylvanas' forces have attacked the second outpost."
He took a few moments to ponder the Shade's words. She seemed to have taken his words to heart. The original attack was too perfect; he didn't get a chance to observe the tactics of human commanders. He shook his head lightly. That was of no concern. He could press the issue.
"Inform Jaina that she is to attack the western outpost."
As the Shade floated away, Arthas split his remaining forces in three. One stayed with him, the rest went to cover for the disappearance of Sylvanas and Jaina. He did not see any real chance of an attack from either direction, but it paid to be prepared.
One of those ghastly creatures, Shades she thought they were called, approached her.
"Prince Arthas orders you to attack the western outpost."
"Attack? I thought we were focusing on defense?"
"Sylvanas' attack was unexpectedly successful, and the prince seems to wish to take advantage of it."
She really really did not want to go to war with her own people, but she sighed and gripped her staff tightly. She motioned for the Undead to follow her, and with relief she saw that there was no trick to make them obey. She spared a glance to the Shade.
"Inform Arthas that I am setting off."
The shade nodded its smokey head, and floated away to its master. The journey to the outpost was not long, and soon she beheld the rock wall. She pointed her staff at the stone slabs, and opened it with a flex of her arcane might. Perhaps it would have stopped an Undead army, but this hastily erected defense had no protection against one such as her.
"Abominations." she pointed inside the outpost. "Attack!"
The hulky creatures obeyed her command and waddled their way through the opened gate. Without her call, the creepy spider creatures rushed in to reinforce the Abominations. Seeing no other Undead volunteer, she ordered the ghouls inside as well, while keeping the necromancers as her escort.
"Do you necromancers have any magiks that would supplement our Undead forces?"
"We do, Lady Proudmoore." answered one of them. "Allow us to demonstrate!" They said as their staffs began glowing sickly green. The necromancer who spoke to her pointed his staff at a charging knight, and the mount seized in place, while the knight fell over. Another necromancer pointed his staff at a nearby abomination, and with an uncharacteristic speed, the creature crossed the distance and consumed the knight and his mount. As another necromancer pointed their staff at the corpses, they suddenly sprung upright, as new undead soldiers. "Our 'Cripple' spell can cause our enemies' muscles to suddenly spasm and quake leaving the enemy immobile or nearly so. Our 'Unholy Frenzy' spell can supplement that by greatly accelerating any creature's movement and attack rates." One of the necromancers got her attention to point out that the Abomination looked to be in slightly worse shape than before the spell was cast. "Though, of course, such magiks are not without downsides, and tend to cause damage to the host. And, finally, we can, of course, raise the recently slain as our Undead servants. We are, after all, the Scourge."
It didn't bear mentioning that they very likely knew other magicks. You don't become a talented necromancer out of nowhere. She rather suspected they were all once former magical students in Dalaran.
"Disturbingly effective set of skills." Jaina had to commend. And unnervingly, this must have been a fairly recent development. The Kirin Tor found nothing as useful when Kel'thuzad was banished. "Do you have spells to repair damage taken? Arthas mentioned a spell by the name of Death Coil."
The necromancers conversed with one another in hushed whispers before one of them responded. "As you are likely aware, Lady Proudmoore, necromancy was introduced to Azeroth by the orcish warlocks, and was banned almost immediately after. We effectively had to reinvent a school of magic from nothing. While we are familiar with the theoretical idea behind the spell, we have yet to be able to replicate it, though it never was at the top of the priority list. The idea that you could bolster the status of an Undead by revitalizing their necromantic energies is, of course, sound, but it's hardly as easy as that. We are working, however, on a new spell fashioned after one of Lady Windrunner's spells. We've got the basics to work, but we are still trying to tune up the efficiency of the spell. Not bad progress in such small amount of time."
"Why haven't you asked Arthas to teach you it? Or, I suppose Sylvanas for whatever spell you are copying."
"Not copying! We may have sold ourselves to the Scourge, Lady Proudmoore, but we retain our integrity as Magi! We are creating a new spell that is using one of the spells she was gifted by Lord Menethil as a foundation. But whereas her spell drains life from her enemies to bolster her own, our version would instead allow us to drain an enemy while also targeting any recipient for the healing, whether it be the caster or his ally. Best of all the spell should provide benefits to the living and the Undead."
"What about Arthas?"
The necromancer shook his head. "Unlike Master Kel'Thuzad, Lord Menethil is not a scholar at heart." there was a pause, and a cough. "Ah, metaphorically I mean as it relates to the Master. Regardless, this was not one of the spells Master Kel'Thuzad knew. Similarly, Lady Windrunner despises us, and refuses to demonstrate her skills before us. Fortunately the basics of her Life Drain spell are not outside our power to replicate, if with less than satisfying results. For now."
The dead pressed their advance, as Jaina thought over their words. Perhaps she should ask Arthas herself? Surely he would not refuse her. He had enjoyed teaching her about the Holy Light, whenever she had questions, or perhaps he was simply overjoyed to have a chance to spend some time with her. She had been, at any rate.
With a brief look at the battlefield, she saw that her forces were preocupied with the human diversionary tactic; footman doing their best to defend against the abominations and ghouls while sharpshooters and riflemen shot at them from a safe distance. Gryphon riders instead fought her spiders, being sufficiently able to fight from both air and ground. With her forces occupied, the knights ran around them and at her.
Before her necromancers could act, she murmured a small prayer and extended her hand. The center knight suffered the brunt of her frost explosion. She put her hands together and then moved them, step by step, to point at each of her knight enemies. The frost formed into a wall meant to pierce his nearby allies. Unfortunately she seemed to have underestimated the knights. The center knight died easily enough, while others survived; armor caved in and gasping for breath, but alive. Her Blizzard spell quickly took care of them.
"Masterfully done, Lady Proudmoore, masterfully done."
She bit her tongue from speaking out. She wanted no praise for slaughtering her people. She summoned a water elemental to aid her, and moved to dislodge the enemy from their positions. The Lich King willed her to obey.
It occurred to her after minutes of fighting that she likely assaulted a wave which itself was preparing to assault Kel'Thuzad's position. Unless Sylvanas faced a similarly large force as well. Impossible. Sylvanas had less troops than her, and she wasn't a master at the arcane arts unlike Jaina was.
Despite stiff resistance, and some Undead losses by some lucky Mortar Teams, the outpost fell to Jaina in short order. She began -
RETURN! NOW! OBEY!
Her legs began moving back towards their base before her mind even processed what happened. That voice that pierced her mind so roughly, that was Arthas wasn't it? Why did he sound so concerned? In panic even? She gripped her staff tightly and prepared to teleport her army.
RETURN! NOW! OBEY!
"We are needed back, Sisters." Sylvanas commented. "A shame that our Abominations move so slowly. The Prince surely would like us to reinforce him with our full strength for what's to come. If only we knew how to teleport."
While her voice sounded nonchalant, her banshee sisters could see just the tiniest bit of satisfaction in her face. Sylvanas knew they could see it, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She, of course, was bound to obey the butcher, and surely both he and the Lich King would punish her should she needlessly delay, but…full reinforcement is no needless delay, is it? Let the bastard sweat a little. She'll relish his suffering.
"Stand fast, Scourge! We must defend Kel'Thuzad at all costs!"
He pulled the side defenses towards him, as him and his squad rushed at the threat before them. Fury flushed through him with memories of Hearthglen. Once again he was forced to stall and wait for rescue. He swiped Frostmourne at his enemies, and the cold obeyed, forming a wall in front of his enemies. A nudge by another spell caused the ice wall to fall on his enemies, crushing many a human beneath it. With a smirk he saw that they did not expect that. They had tried to go around, he could see by the way few of the visible corpses fell. Good. He's going to need to use every trick he could to make sure they don't try to counter him.
He was certain the magi should have been without any mana…so how did those bastards teleport an entire enemy to his doorstep?
The deep blue shimmer faded, and Jaina assessed the situation. Arthas was to her north fighting with the army, using mixture of spells and Frostmourne to fight…only, none of his spells appeared to do direct damage. Her eyes narrowed. There were magi nearby. Indirect spells were harder to predict and counter, but could also often be less effective. She directed the spiders to defend the foul lich as she moved herself and her army towards the Prince.
"That's twice now a lady had to rescue you, Arthas. Are you trying to tell me something?"
He spun his head towards her in a clearly foul mood, but did not say anything for the moment, instead refocusing on the battle. "The Magi teleported this army here. I've barely kept them from overwhelming my forces. I was a fool; I should have stuck with my original plan. What's your strength?" when he eventually did spoke, his voice was that of a commander, but Jaina knew him well enough to tell that he had relaxed slightly.
"Half full, maybe." she had to admit. "Sudden teleportation of so many troops exhausted me far more than the battle itself."
Arthas nodded. "Stay here, and stall the humans. Have the necromancers raise any fallen. The losses are decisively not in our favor, but with your reinforcements, that will change." he sighed with a bit of strain. "I hadn't the time to raise any myself, and I didn't have enough necromancers to make the difference."
Arthas pointed Frostmourne at his enemies. "Stay on guard for any attempt to counter this next spell." Seeing her nod, Arthas slashed at the air. Sizzling, almost electric, sound shot through the air, as green sprites attacked the knights before him. Jaina's hands shot in the air as she muttered out a counterspell. Just in time to see the green sprites kill the knights and bring their life to Arthas. If she had been even a second slower, the enemies would have dispelled his spell. She almost didn't sense it being cast…but almost is not good enough. They were fast and quiet -Arthas was right to be worried-, they were good, but she was better, and she countered their spell before it was finished.
"You were smart to not cast it before. The Magi would have dispelled it." She willed herself to focus on something other than the death the spell caused. "What's your plan, Arthas?"
"The spell has rejuvenated my strength. I will seek out those troublesome Magi, and put an end to the cursed lineage of Dalaran."
Arthas called up a tilted wall of frost from the ground, and with a sprint, leaped from it, and was caught by one of those flying Undead, and carried further.
Handful of minutes later, Sylvanas approached the defense positions. She had wanted to be slower still, but the Abominations were driven by some unholy fervor to respond to the call of their Master as soon as possible. She observed the fight. The Human horde was seriously diminished from when she saw it teleport away. She scowled. Of course. The Butcher has done the impossible. Again. She spied Jaina, and moved to reinforce her.
"Let none survive!"
Her Undead warriors slammed into the Humans flank. She approached Jaina.
"We have heard the summons. Where is Arthas?" in her dark heart Sylvanas knew he couldn't be dead. The honor of his death belonged to her.
"Nice to see you too, Sylvanas." she said dryly. "He moved to defeat the rest of the Magi."
Sylvanas recalled that he had no honor at all, and grew worried. It would be just like him to die just to once again deny her. She nodded to her. "Understood. Can you handle things here on your own?"
Jaina nodded. Sylvanas left her Undead with Jaina, and flew after Arthas with her banshee sisters escorting her.
Frostmourne pierced another mage. Arthas laughed. Antonidas could not stop him, and these feeble Magi thought they could challenge the Lich King's favorite?
Flamestrike bore down on him, and he batted it away with Frostmourne. There were seven Magi when he started. Only four remained. For now.
He advanced on the remaining Magi not bothering to use his magic; they would just dispel it anyway, and unlike Jaina, he didn't think himself capable of countering a spell cast by four Magi working together. A wall of fire rushed to meet him. Silly Magi. Arthas jumped through the wall -his armor protected his body, and a very short burst of coolness from Frostmourne protected his head- and he was moments away from getting hit with a Pyroblast. This was getting frustrating. Lighting fast, he batted it away as well, back towards his enemies; the Pyroblast hitting the spells the Magi had hidden behind the massive flame.
Two Magi suddenly slumped in their positions, as a ghastly Elven figure gracefully landed on the ground next to him.
"Sylvanas." Arthas greeted her with a glance. "I am surprised to see you come to my aid. I had figured you would stay with Jaina."
The other remaining Magi attempted to prepare a spell, before, too, collapsing to the ground. Arthas and Sylvanas were agile beasts. They had crossed the remaining distance promptly, and killed them; Frostmourne in the chest -courtesy of Arthas, dagger in the throat -courtesy of Sylvanas.
"Jaina was holding her own admirably enough. Magi were the primary concern for the Scourge operations here." she said matter-of-factly. Arthas suspected deceit in her provided reasoning -Sylvanas rarely concerned herself with the greater good for the Scourge-, but could not divine anything else on short notice.
"Come then. We will strike from the back, and when all the Humans lay dead we will meet up with Jaina and Kel'Thuzad on the other side"
A necromantic blast shattered the invisibility covering the woman and her allies. The blonde woman wore a violet corset that flowed into a dress. She was about half a head shorter than her compatriots. Her brown eyes narrowed and became alight with the arcane.
"Blasted undead." the woman cursed lightly, before addressing the necromancer that shot at her. "Lucky shot. You will not get another."
She began preparing her attack, as she could clearly see her enemies doing as well, when a jovial voice interrupted both parties.
"Elisabeth. I thought you were away for a mission for the Kirin Tor. It's always nice to see a familiar face…though it is strange to see you with an armed escort."
The approaching woman looked familiar, even though she knew none of the Scourge. Her heart stopped. It couldn't be. It must be some trickery.
"You needn't concern yourself wit-" the necromancer started, but was quickly cut off by the new arrival. "I will take it from here. Go reinforce our allies. They cannot be allowed to fail." The man nodded, and left together with other necromancers. She should feel rejoiced, but all she could feel was horror as she started at the woman before her.
"J…Jaina?" she asked unsurely. The woman chuckled. "I see you didn't expect to see me here, either. What are you doing here, Beth? It's unsafe."
"I-I could ask you the same thing! And what's with you commanding these necromancers anyway!?"
Jaina chuckled again. "Come on, Beth. You're usually not this slow on the uptake. Isn't it obvious?" It was, but with everything she had, Elisabeth wanted to deny the answer. It just couldn't be true. It couldn't. "I serve the Scourge now."
Inhuman coldness pierced her heart. For a few long moments it felt as if the entire world had stopped. She barely managed to stammer out perhaps the most important question of all. "...w-w-why?"
"Let me answer that question with another. You are here to stop the spell, correct?"
The woman nodded, slowly, as if still coming to grips with her new world.
"Do you know where Antonidas is?" Jaina tried to ignore the pain in her dead heart at his name. "Where are the Council of Six? Where the rest of the great mages of Kirin Tor are? You must suspect. Truth be told, when Prince Arthas assaulted Dalaran for its magical secrets, all these groups of people banded together to stop him. In final moments before Arthas' assault, Antonidas told me, 'One more or one less here will make no difference.' He counted the Kirin Tor not as Magi of great renown and power, but as mere mortals before the might of the Scourge." Jaina paused. The memories were painful. "Indeed, as he often is, Antonidas was right. One more or less…really did not matter. Prince Arthas killed us all the same."
"Then you…"
"I am Jaina Proudmoore; The Archmage of the Scourge. Pull back your troops, Beth, for the sake of our friendship. You could never beat me in life. And I have grown stronger since. Don't make me kill you."
Truthfully, Jaina was far less determined than her voice would suggest. But she had to make her friend afraid, make her see reason. The Lich King will force her to defend Kel'Thuzad. But if Elizabeth withdrew, she might not need to pursue.
"I-I-I can't." the voice grew more determined. "You would have done anything in your power to cure me of this madness. I could not live with myself if I did not do the same."
Her heart was pierced with a mixture of painful emotions. Joy for having acquired such a good friend in life; and pain for the sorrow that was to come. She said nothing and let the first bolt of frost pierce the silence. Her opponent barely managed to react to prevent her footman from being pierced.
"I will save you, Jaina. I promise."
She should not make promises she could not keep. In a mere minute, despite Elisabeth's best efforts, her company were dead at her feet. The sorrow. The pain. The regret. The fury. They all fueled her powers. She bore down on her former friend like a woman possessed. In a way she was. The fight was only stopped by the sky thundering with magic. When they diverted their eyes to it, they saw giant stones screaming down from the sky with tails of sickly green fire, landing in the midst of the mere little remaining of the last human army.
"The Legion's fury scorches the sky! The mighty infernals have been sent to aid us!"
Kel'Thuzad's booming voice did not lie, for those stones rose from impact, and revealed themselves to be stone golems held together with what she presumed to be the same demonic magic it left in the sky. The creature certainly looked the part. Fortunately the Legion was considerate enough to provide more than these bulky infernals. Red, spined demon hounds with two long tendrils on its back approached her. She heard Kel'Thuzad's words in her mind, "These are Felhounds. They feed upon the very magic itself, and of course flesh. They should be of use to you, Archmage."
The Felhounds made an already easy fight that much easier. They were the worst enemy of any magic-wielding creature. But she had to do two things herself. Hers was the killing blow; and she gave her friend a burial. She owed her that much, at least. She forbid the beasts to feast on her.
As she was finished, she noticed that her allies were finished as well. Out of the massive army that had advanced to destroy Kel'Thuzad, there were only corpses; corpses that were rising back up as their forces by the minute. It seems that both Sylvanas and Arthas had witnessed her final moments, as they both put aside their hatred of one another to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. They said nothing. She couldn't imagine what words would help.
The spell was complete. They all felt it reach its zenith. As they turned to look at Kel'Thuzad, they saw him abruptly leave the circle of power.
"Come forth, Lord Archimonde! Enter this world and let us bask in your power!"
There was only a green orb at the circle of power, when suddenly it began expanding. Pillar of fire consumed it, and lightning pierced the fire itself. When the fire faded, there was only Lord Archimonde. He was tall -he had at least two heads over Arthas- and radiating power. His skin was greenish purple, and he had a single tentacle coming from each side of his face.
They have succeeded. This was the moment of the Lich King's triumph. The appearance of Tichondrius broke her from her thoughts. The last parting words of their new lord, however, broke her world.
"Since the Lich King is of no further use to me, you dreadlords will now command the Scourge."
It seemed that it was not the moment of the Lich King's triumph. And now, her future, and that of her friend Sylvanas, and of Arthas, was even more uncertain.
