Time is a very funny thing when you keep going in and out of consciousness. It makes the world feel more like snapshots than a fluid series of events, and that is after I regained a semblance of awareness and consciousness.
I was in some room, somewhere, but it kept changing before my eyes every time I tried to look around.
Light.
Dark.
Light.
Dark.
It took me far too long to realize that it wasn't changing, I was constantly dozing off and waking up. Everytime I felt strong enough to open my eyes, fatigue sets in and they close. Opening and closing over and over.
To me, it feels like it's all occurring over the course of a few minutes. But in actuality?
Night.
Day.
Night.
Day.
And the room was hardly a static environment through it all.
Day, one person in the room.
Night, the moon is hidden by clouds.
Day, another person.
Night, the moon is out.
Day.
Night.
Day, another person.
Night, something looking over me from outside.
Day.
Night, the maw of a great beast.
Day….
Amidst the ever shifting world, I bit into my cheek with all the strength I could muster to keep myself from going back to sleep. A coppery taste filled my mouth, but I was finally able to stay awake.
Sunlight shined through the cloudless sky into the room. Seagulls cawed outside and a gentle breeze wrapped against the walls and windows.
Wincing, I sat myself upright to get a better grasp of my surroundings.
It was an extravagant bedroom with all the finery a magister could ask for. A fine wooden desk, an array of exotic potted plants along the windows, and luxurious silks and cloth from end to end.
Why they'd put someone like me in a fancy place like-
Oh that's right….
Noticing my ruined armor on a stand near the far end of the room, I threw off the covers to walk over to it. But my knees flared up in pain the moment my feet touched the floor. Bracing myself, I tried to stand again, only reaching half way before my legs buckled and I fell back onto the bed.
Why was I so weak?
And why was my hair so long? It went down to my knees…
My musings were cut short by a sound at the door. A woman in white robes entered, not noticing me until she closed the door behind her.
"Um… Hello?" I gave the woman a half hearted wave, both from uncertainty and from my arms feeling too heavy.
"You're awake?" she gawked at me for a brief second before rushing over to my side, her hands radiating warm Light into my chilled body.
"I…think so?" Feeling rejuvenated from her magic, I tried to get up again, only for a firm hand to hold me down.
"Your Excellency please lie down," the woman softly pushed me back into bed and put the covers back over me. "You mustn't strain yourself."
"I'm not straining myself," it felt like I was whining, "I just need to move around."
"That is straining yourself, your Excellency," she answered, still pouring Holy Light into me. "Have you been up long, your Excellency?"
"Wait, wait, wait just a second," I tried to wriggle out of her hold. "Before all that I want to know what's going on? Where I am, who are you, and what's going on with the Scourge?"
"What? Oh yes! I apologize," the woman looked reasonably embarrassed. "I understand the confusion, your Excellence, and will explain as best I can. You are in one of the guest chambers in the Magister's Terrace, I am Sister Ceeri, the healer charged with tending to your wounds and overseeing your recovery. As for the undead? They are no longer here."
"No longer in Silvermoon?" I mean that's sort of a given since Arthas did what he came here to do. No reason to stick around.
"No, I mean they left the Kingdom months ago," Wait…Months!? "As for where they are now? I couldn't say. I assume they are still in the south fighting across Lordaeron."
"I'm sorry, but did you say they left months ago? I've been here for months?"
"Yes, your Excellency," she nodded. "When the rangers brought you here, you were on the brink of death. Your organs were barely functioning and you were suffering from acute mana withdrawal."
"That…" sounds really bad.
"Most would have died," the healer noted solemnly. "But your body clung to life by the thinnest of threads. We worked tirelessly for a week to stabilize you. When you recovered enough to be without constant care, you were brought here."
"Well…I…thank you." What else could I say?
"Think nothing of it, your Excellency. Now if you would please stop straining yourself," the woman had an iron grip, I'll give her that much; holding me down even with my best impression of an eel. Or maybe I was just that weak right now?
"No, I need to check to see if I still have it," all the movement was starting to tire me out.
"Have what, your Excellence?"
"The letter," only after saying it did I realize she'd have no idea what I was talking about. "I had a letter I was supposed to deliver. I need to know if I still have it."
Seeing that I wasn't going to budge on this, the healer almost seemed to sigh. Leaving my side, she opened the desk drawer and fished out a familiar envelope. "All the belongings on your person have been stored in this desk until you have recovered. I take it this is the letter in question?"
"Yes," I relaxed, "thank you."
I hadn't lost it.
"Please, your Excellency, there is no need to thank me. I serve at your leisure," the line seemed far too rehearsed for it to feel genuine. She put the envelope back and returned to my side. "Now please lie down, your body is still weak."
Hours ticked by, and more healers came and went after the first woman.
They all basically did the same thing, pouring unimaginable amounts of Holy Light into me to speed up my recovery and restore my strength. And I will admit, after each 'session' I felt a little better. The aches and pains melting away along with the numbness I didn't even realize I was experiencing.
Then they brought a collection of potions and practically force fed them to me. None of them tasted all that good, but each one made me feel that much better. I guess they were health and mana potions going by the 'blue' and 'red' coloring.
I hadn't even noticed how much my head was killing me until I finished off my fifth 'blue' potion.
Their treatments done, they finally left me alone with a tray of food and wine by my bedside. Fine silverware, frosted glass, and a cut of meat that probably cost more then some homes. Only the best for a 'magistrix' I guess.
I only managed to finish half of it before there was a knock at the door.
"Um yes. I mean…come in!" I kicked myself for fumbling such simple words. "Is there something I need to-" my words died in my throat when I saw who it was.
"Awake at last," Sylvanas Windrunner in all her 'not-undead' elven glory entered the room. Clad in ranger attire, but without a weapon, she looked to be in perfect health. The wounds and injuries I remembered her suffering no longer blemishing her skin, though subtle bags had formed under her eyes.
She dragged a chair from the desk to my bedside. "I was beginning to fear you would never wake."
"Sylvanas? Why are you-" I spoke before my mind could catch up as the elven woman sat down beside me. "Shit. Sorry, I mean Lady Sylvanas. Or is it General Windrunner, or-"
She giggled at my fumbling, raising a hand for me to stop. "Just Sylvanas, please. After saving my life you have more than earned that right, Miss Dawnguard."
"Uh yeah…yeah. And just Syllia, please. Miss Dawnguard sounds weird…and…well…you know." Brain, what the hell are you doing!?
"Fair enough," as much as she projected herself as alert and aware, there was an unmistakable 'aura' of exhaustion that clung to her every action. "I'm pleased to finally be able to speak to my savior without the threat of imminent death over our heads. Unless you'd rather rest that is?"
"No, no, it's fine," I finally registered what she said. "Wait, talk about what?"
"Pleasantries and idle curiosity," she replied, as if it were an obvious thing. "You've done a remarkable number of things in such a short span of time, it would pique anyone's curiosity."
"You're…curious about…me?" Why did this whole situation feel so strange? Why did the attention make me squirm under the sheets? I mean, I know I made some waves earlier, but…"I don't-"
Hearing the door click shut, I finally noticed that we weren't alone. A human man in Farstrider gear stood by the door. He met my eyes with indifference.
"Don't worry about Nathanos," Sylvanas preempted me, "he won't reveal anything you say in confidence to me, you have my word."
Wait, that's Nathaos? Wasn't he supposed to be an undead that-
Oh yeah, I guess Sylvanas living would mean he'd be alive too.
"No that's not an…I mean," my words jumbled. "I mean, I don't know why someone like you would take an interest in someone like…me."
"Someone like you," an eyebrow raised. "You mean to say you have no idea why I might take an interest in someone who would willingly face that fallen human not once, but twice, of their own volition. And was capable of holding their ground against him."
I guess she had me there."It was hardly of my own volition. And I didn't hold my ground, I just delayed him and ran," and died.
I rubbed the back of my neck, grimacing at the phantom feeling of Frostmourne cutting into my throat.
"It's still more than what I could achieve," the general's lips twitched. "More than most achieved. And I mean beyond relation to Arthas. I've also heard some other interesting stories of your accomplishments when I was asking around for my savior."
"Interesting?"
"Where to begin? According to some you exposed a traitor within our midst prior to the attack, uncovered sabotage of Silvermoon's defenses, rallied beleaguered forces of a small city, rescued myself from certain death, and fought on the very banks of the Sunwell to hold off the undead."
"I mean…I did do that. But it's not…" as my voice trailed off, the ranger started to laugh.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Sylvanas apologized. "It's just I never thought I'd see the sight of a humble magistrix. Your circles always puff up their chests and declare their achievements to the world, yet you sit here downplaying every act you have done."
She wasn't wrong…but still.
I knotted my fingers just under the covers to bleed off some nervousness.
But now that I do have someone to actually talk with…
"Actually," I interrupted her before she could say something else. "I have something I wanted to ask. Do you know what happened after I-" idiot, of course she knows what happened! "I mean, can you tell me what has happened since I've been…here. I don't even know how long I've been here. The last thing I remember is some trolls at the base of the steps leading to the Sunwell. I might not be remembering that last right now that I think about it…."
"No, those were trolls," Sylvanas corroborated. "And I suppose I can cut my interrogation short," she chuckled at her own joke. "To start with, you've been here a little over two months."
"Two months…" just like the healer said. "I doesn't feel that long."
"I suppose it wouldn't," the general commented. "And in the time since the undead left, the Amani flooded over the border; something you yourself saw. They took our losses as a sign of weakness and a chance to push our people into the sea. They were right that we were weak, but even weakened we are still stronger than them."
"And how long did that take? To push them back I mean."
"Not as long as you'd assume. True our forces were exhausted and still reeling, but they were also fully deployed. Aided by the efforts of several dragons, our forces made short work of the troll incursion."
"...how many people died," or how badly did I fuck up everything?
"The death toll is… significant," she grimaced at the word. "I've seen death, but this devastation is on a level I could never have foreseen or predicted. Entire cities are simply gone, whole families wiped out, and a scar of dead earth now runs across the Eversong. While it will be years before a proper assessment of the damage and true scale of life loss can be compiled, our rough estimates put the death toll at half the kingdom's population."
Only half? That's…
"It could have been worse," I let slip, then swore at myself for sounding so callous.
"I can't imagine how it could have been any worse," she shook her head.
"We could have also lost nine-tenths of our people." I comment, again mentally kicking myself for running my mouth.
"I'd rather not think of that," she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "As horrid as the situation is, the death toll is nowhere near that number. Thank the Light for small mercies."
'You could have been revived as a banshee to serve Arthas in death,' thankfully I managed to wrangle in my loose lips and kept that morbid tidbit to myself.
"What happened then?" I changed the topic.
"Then Prince Kael'thas arrived, or should I say returned from his self imposed exile," her leather gloves made a soft sound as she clenched her fists together. "He toured the battlefield, held court, named a new Grand Magister, organized his Majesty's funeral, and committed our nation to the Alliance war effort."
"And that's…bad?" And wait, shouldn't he be king if his dad is dead?
"Not by itself, no. Uniting our strength to theirs is only natural given the situation, and I will gladly march when the order is given, but there are other things he's said and done that do not sit well with me."
"Like what?"
"At his majesty's funeral, his highness declared a new…bold direction for our people," it was obvious she was struggling to find polite words. "Are you aware that he has declared that we are no longer Quel'dorei?"
"What?" Oh dear, I think I know where this is going.
"It's true," her face twisted and soured. "In light of the devastation and destruction of all we hold dear, his highness has decided that we are now a new people, to henceforth be known as the Sin'dorei."
The Children of Blood.
It's just a name, a 'rebranding' of the high elves in light of the Scourge. And yet…
"And what do you think about that?" I watched as Sylvanas's face twisted.
"...It depends," she finally replied.
"On what?"
"In my capacity as Ranger-General, I don't have an opinion. My duty is to safeguard and protect people of this kingdom from all threats, no matter what they choose to call themselves. All other concerns and issues that are not related to that are secondary."
"But in your personal opinion?" Given that answer, I think I already knew what her response was. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
"No, I'm just trying to find the right words. My 'personal opinion'," she hesitated, then clicked her tongue. "It's not what I would have done but the name feels macabre and tasteless. To call ourselves 'Children of the Blood' in remembrance to the massacre of half our people? Perhaps to academics, poets, or other artistically inclined it's a beautiful term, or maybe I'm just too martially inclined to see the beauty in blood; our blood in particular. Or maybe I'm just a stubborn lynx who hates change."
Silence hung in the air as she let her words sit.
"I'm sorry if my words upset you," Sylvanas apologized, "it's been a difficult few months. Constant meetings and endless fires to put out."
"No, it's fine. I should be the one apologizing-"
"We have other appointments to keep, my Lady," the human finally spoke up, cutting me off. "This magistrix has taken up far too much of your valuable time already."
I shot the man a glare. What the hell was his problem?
"I would have worded it more gracefully," she shot her manservant a quick look, "but Nathanos isn't wrong. I did rush over when the healers told me you were awake, but I am afraid I have other matters to attend to today. I am sorry if this seems brusque."
"No, no, I understand," she was a general afterall. But wait, if she was leaving to do her own thing, maybe she could help me out? "Actually, could I ask you for a little favor?"
"Remember who you are speaking to, mage."
"Nathanos," Sylvanas chided, sighing when the man gave no indication of apologizing. "I apologize on his behalf. And yes, I would be happy to help you."
"Well, actually it's two things-"
"Don't overstep Lady Windrunner's generosity," the human quickly interrupted.
"It's fine, Nathanos," The general rubbed the ridge of her nose, "I owe her this much for saving my life."
"Your survival should be reward enough," he argued.
Well, I mean….he is technically not wrong but-
"Please ignore him," Sylvanas softly put her foot down, the human making no further comment. "Now what are these favors?"
"First, I was entrusted to deliver a letter to Prince Kael'Thas by the King when I saw him," I pointed to the desk, "it's the envelope over there. Could you give it to him? I mean, as long as it's not too much of an issue."
"It's no problem at all," she leaned back and scooped the letter from the desk. "I was scheduled to meet the Prince today. I'll hand it to him then. And your other favor?"
"I want to know if one of my friends is alright. Her name is Noly…" fuck why was I drawing a blank on the surname she chose? "Scarlet-Arrow. She's a Farstrider trainee, she was in Fairbreeze when I saved you, and came with me to the Sunwell when Arthas attacked. I sort of…teleported her away when it looked like we were about to be overrun. I just want to know if she's okay."
"That should be simple enough," Sylvanas nodded. "I'll have someone look into that. Do you want to pass along a message to your friend?"
"Would it be okay to let her know where I am, and why I have been missing?"
"Certainly, I'll let whoever I task know to inform her of your situation."
"Thank you."
"And thank you for saving my life," she nodded, giving a soft smile. "I'll be in touch, Miss Syllia."
'Miss Syllia'?
Better than 'Miss Dawnguard' I guess.
As the General left the room, I noticed her human manservant stayed behind. He made no motion to follow her out.
"What?" I questioned.
"Syllia Dawnguard," Nathanos looked me dead in the eyes. "I have decided that you are the least incompetent member of your class.
"Thanks… I guess?"
"Should Lady WIndrunner or myself be in need of magical assistance, your capabilities will be noted in our selection process." With his piece said, the human left as well, slamming the door behind him.
Frowning, I leaned back into my bed and blew a strand of golden hair off my face.
What a charmer….
The chest had been pulled from the water just beyond Quel'Danas shoreline.
Even from where he was standing, with all the warding and suppression runes woven into it, Kael'thas could feel the energies leaking out of it.
There was no obvious keyhole or unlocking mechanism. It was smooth metal.
Just as his father's note had said.
He cast a simple spell, one commonly used to unlock doors across the royal palace.
The unseen mechanisms clicked, and the chest opened.
Inside sat tray upon tray of phials, in each was a luminescent golden liquid.
With a delicate hand, he picked one up and felt it. Warmth. Power. Comfort. Safety. Energy. Relief washed over him as his muscles relaxed and the headache he hadn't been aware of subsided.
Vials of water taken from the Sunwell.
Just as his father had written.
"How many did you find?" he asked the courier who brought the chest.
"Seven, your highness. We've yet to look at the other marked locations but we assume a similar number will be there as well."
Keal'thas remarked on the number of vials in this singular chest. The full number of vials, given all the 'X's on the provided map, made the prince's head spin. All that power, all that Arcane energy…
"Inform the captains that the retrieval of these chests is now their top priority. Nothing is to interfere with this task."
The moment the courier left his study, a new presence flickered into his chambers. Someone he had become painfully acquainted with in the recent weeks.
"You knew about this, didn't you?" He questioned, not even needed to look to know who it was.
"Given I'm the one who instructed the Grand Magister to safely extract the energies, that would be safe to assume," the woman's chuckle frustrated him.
"And you didn't think this was important enough to inform me of!?" He turned to the woman, who had referred to herself since his arrival as 'a humble advisor', and in his father's notes as 'The Ancient', reclining on his sofa as if it was her own.
If it wasn't for vague half forgotten recollections of a woman fitting her description appearing in the royal palace as a child to see his father, the word of the few of his father's courtiers that survived the battle, and his father's own words in his Will, he would have ordered the woman sent away.
Not that it would have done any good. She was powerful that much was certain, with an awareness that bordered on omniscience.
It was only thanks to her that he knew anything of what was occurring south of Quel'Thalas. Of the titanic battles between the Scourge and the Alliance. The very earth flattened by spell and artillery, the dead swarming across the field like a sea of corpses. Valliant counter attacks spearheaded by the paladins of the Silver Hand, and heroic last stands where each soldier fought with the strength of a hundred men, each battle pushing the lines back and forth. Inevitably, if predictably, inching closer and closer to the seat of the Alliance war effort: Dalaran.
The Ancient had used some words and phrases he wasn't familiar with to describe the titanic clashes, the push to retake the city of Lordaeron in her mind was akin to the 'Battle of Verdun' while the slow grinding advance towards Dalaran reminded her of 'the Somme'.
No matter how hard he tried, he failed to locate 'Verdun' or 'Somme' on any map, but this did not distract from the dread she implied these titanic clashes had to be compared to the current foe.
And for all the times she was useful, there were an equal number of times he wanted to rip his hair out.
"You were going to be informed soon enough, so I thought why bother?" she shrugged.
"And what makes you so sure of that?" He raised a brow. "According to the General, the young woman entrusted to deliver this to me was in a coma for the last two months. She might never have even woken up and this information would have never passed to me. How can you know I would have ever learned this on my own?"
And happened to be the same person who stood before the Council of Six and alerted them to the Legion's return to Azeroth. Who was also the one behind so many heroic feats and achievements during the course of the Scourge invasion. And was the last person to speak with his father.
How someone so…unknown accomplished so much in so little time.
A question for later.
"Because I know that you would eventually know," she refused to elaborate further. "Here I thought you would have enjoyed exercising some…what do kids call it? Independence?"
"Not when my people's lives are at stake." He had seen the secret reports the Convocation had written up for him, seen the charts and graphs showing the rapid decay of the realm with the loss of the Sunwell.
While it wasn't obvious yet to the general populace, the ambient mana in the leylines, usually flush with the endless energies from the Sunwell, would be drained before the end of the year. This would not merely its people, but the very land itself. Crops will fail, the weather will turn violent, and that is to say nothing of how the animals will begin to behave.
After that a new 'die off' as one magister termed it, would begin as the population began suffering acute mana withdrawal.
It would start with the oldest, the youngest, and then move onto the most physically frail.
He would not let that happen.
Under his orders, Rommath and his mages have already begun to disable the various enchantments across the kingdom that draw directly from the leylines. Infrastructure, agriculture, and weather regulation for the most part. The biggest drains of mana. An attempt to stretch out how long the leylines can sustain the population.
It would buy them some time, but they needed more sources of magical energy.
Potions, enchantments, everything was being considered. But it still wasn't enough.
And this woman who not only knew that his father had secreted away slivers of the Sunwell's power but knew their locations had the gall to complain that he was acting like the child here!?
"And if I am mere 'kid', what exactly does that make you?"
"Old enough to have been your father's grandmother at least," she chuckled to herself at some unspoken joke. "There's nothing wrong with being young, hell I think this kingdom could use some more of that dynamism that youth inspires. But you won't grow if I just tell you everything. Assuming I could tell you everything...right," she glared off into an empty corner of the room.
"And what have you even done?"
"More than you could imagine," she sighed. "There is a fine line between paternalism and infantilism. I'd like to think I walk it quite well on any given day."
This woman…
"Did you come here for a reason, or was it just to celebrate my 'inevitable discovery?"
"Other than that? There actually is one thing," she looked over to him, "I've been meaning to ask if you meant what you said before."
"Before? You may have to be a bit more specific."
"That big speech at your father's funeral," she clarified. "That you would do anything to alleviate the suffering of your people. Right past wrongs. Move towards a brighter future. That stuff. Did you mean it?"
"Yes," was that even a question?
Her azure eyes looked into his own, then she smiled. "Admirable. The Quel'dorei have suffered enough from pompous fools that think pretty words like 'dignity' and 'honor' gives them justification to let others suffer in their stead. And I think you're on the right path."
"Sin'dorei," the prince corrected her. "The shared tragedy of our fallen will be the foundations of a new outlook going forward. Starting with an end to the gross inequality of society has enabled and entrenched for millennia. We will move forward together."
"...so you say," her eyes flicked to the other end of the room, nodding to the empty space. "I guess only time will tell if this wondrous, radical, egalitarianism will yield the results you're looking for."
"Do you believe the old ways are better?"
"Goodness no! The 'old ways', as you put them, are relics of a bygone era that have no place in the modern world. Holdovers of holdovers even. I just wonder if you truly understand the price such radical ideals and change will cost."
"Then I will gladly pay them. We must move forward as a society, now more than ever. To be Sin'dorei is to unify us in our shared grief and loss. Where once we were Children of Noble Birth, divided by class and station, we will now all be Children of Blood united-"
"United in suffering and loss, yes, yes, I remember the speech," she waved off his words before giving a sad smile. "And for the record, you will pay the price."
With her final cryptic words, the Ancient disappeared in a flash of arcane light.
Where does she even go?
He sighed, looking down at the Sunwell Vial still in his hand. The smooth glass was warm to the touch and glowed a brilliant gold. He could feel the warmth between his very fingers.
The Ancient was correct that the road before him was treacherous. Changing traditions and societal beliefs will be an incredibly arduous task. True change would not occur overnight. Years, decades, centuries, even a millennia to upend the worst excesses of his people.
There would be hardship, and pain. Those with privileges will fight with every fiber of their being. Every inch will take a herculean effort to push forward.
But sometimes all it took was a single spark for a fire to roar.
AN: So I hope everyone has been having a good 2025 so far!
Sorry for the super-duper long wait! No excuses on my part, I fumbled time management and got a little too into some other fic ideas/snippets.
But yes, things are most definitely happening! We are in uncharted waters my readers!