The following story has been edited from it's original version which I had previously posted in various chapters. It has changed a great deal, though the overall story is the same. I have basically left it open for a "Part 2" and will finish it at some point. I wanted to post what I had edited thus far though. I hope you enjoy it.
She stood, trembling with rage. Anger seeped from her eyes as she wiped away the blood, red tears. No one could hear the unbearable sound of anguish coming from her heart. As she crumpled beneath the weight of her own body she came to realize something dreadful. Everyone was gone. She was the only thing left with a pulse. Why had he done this?
“Arthas,” she cursed the name under her breath. He brought this upon the land and its’ people. The cities are bathed in blood.
She gathered her fury as though it was something she could hand to him. The gift of a vow; to destroy everything he had worked so hard for. Arthas would not succeed in the end. She would stand before his lifeless body in the center of a city bathed in his own blood. She closed her eyes to calm the fire. Wrapped tightly in a gift of revenge, she started walking.
The destruction and chaos stretched from each horizon with no end in sight. Fire still burned and ash still fell from the sky. Talking aloud to herself, she strode onward, trying to piece everything together within her mind.
The twigs snapped mercilessly beneath her feet as she focused on the task ahead. Her walk was nothing more than a ghostly trek through fields and farms that once reflected the golden sun under a setting sky. Only a shroud of shadow remained hanging over the land of dust and decay.
Her eyes were lit with hatred as she cursed the name “Arthas” yet again. Any remaining sense of logic was tip-toeing quietly in the back of her mind. She would finish this regardless of how extreme any of the consequences. It would be done.
There were several occasions where she felt his eyes on her. She would immediately scan the horizon, fearing the image she wasn’t yet prepared to confront. She knew he was merely biding his time, waiting for the moment when she would be at his side, guiding the armies he had created. How could she know this? There was no certainty, only the overwhelming feeling of darkness. It enveloped her mind further with each step she took. He was coming for her, or rather, she was coming to him.
She recalled what had occurred since she left home so abruptly. The destruction, chaos and pure hatred that Arthas brought with him hung in the air like rotting flesh. Even her sister felt the hands of death around her neck.
She knew what she was prepared to do, but would it be enough? She had chosen her own path up until this point in her life. Free will had determined where she would place each foot as she walked toward an uncertain fate. What would she do if that were taken? She would sacrifice everything if it meant destroying Arthas, but what would it mean for herself?
As she walked and gathered ash on her clothing, she began to blend with her surroundings. From a distance, you would only see a blanket of gray before your eyes. Now, standing still in the ruined landscape, she remembered everything else.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him, sister.” She begged for forgiveness within her own mind, knowing there would never be an answer. There could be no acceptance of an apology after what had transpired. Her eyes slowly closed as the weight of these memories became difficult to carry.
Opening her eyes into the desolate territory before her, she continued on her path. Arthas struck with full force with minions, drones, demons, cursed and enchanted – they came in numbers she couldn’t imagine. While the minds of those that slept peacefully in the land were dreaming of Autumn harvests and festivals, the war came swiftly onto their doorsteps. Awoken only by the screams of death, she was able to escape.
There was a trap door beneath her bed that had been put in place by her adventurous and somewhat ill-mannered uncle. “In case you ever need a little escape from this life, even if only for a short while, there are lands of beauty and fascination beyond these tunnels.” He revealed this to her upon their last meeting. He trusted her with this secret and informed her that he had hired a band of renegade Kobolds to dig the routes. They went on as far as her feet would take her, though she never went far enough to really escape the life she had been living.
She wondered if her uncle had ever arrived for a visit by navigating through the secret Kobold tunnels. He would knock on the front door each time though, never once popping his head out from under her bed. That was probably for the best.
The noises that prompted her escape into the tunnels were unexplainable. She would merely tell you it sounded like death had come to collect. The sound moved around the house like a vicious wind storm in the night. The windows shattered and glass flew into the walls and crashed upon the floor. She was moving rapidly through the tunnels as something inside her head screamed, making her recoil in terror. Turning around, she raced back to her room. It was too late, her sister was gone.
“Velanora, is that you?” The voice startled her. She had been so consumed by the recent memories that she had completely lost track of time. She reached for her daggers only to find them missing. The voice came again as a question. “Velanora? Are you alone?”
At this point she screamed aloud and started running. It couldn’t be. Her eyes were filled with burning emotion as tears streamed across her face. She continued running as fast as she could. She was always deemed to be the fastest among her people, winning competitions left and right. Her family was proud of her ability. She would use it now to escape the insanity. Clearly, she was not herself.
The voice grew distant, though it still seemed to follow her. She was becoming weary and struggled to maintain her pace. Regardless of it all, she continued to run. She would make it across every horizon until looking into the eyes of a man that took everything from her. Determination allowed her to run further than the voice cared to follow, or so she assumed.
As darkness fell so did she. Collapsing onto the ground, she grasped at her chest, willing herself with any remaining strength to take the air back into her lungs. This could not be the end, though there was a shadow inching its way across her face, making her want to close her eyes and drift away.
“No!” She slapped her face hard enough to create a red mark beneath the soot smeared on her skin. The air was so thick with destruction that it was difficult to breathe. She forced herself to stand, bracing herself on her knees as she pushed her head toward the sky. It all looked the same now – it was all gray. Small bits of charcoal remains were scattered on the ground. There was nothing left.
“Velanora, will you speak to me yet? Just look at me!” The voice came sudden, loud and pleading. She was so startled that she lost her balance and hit the dirt. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she pulled them to her chest. She closed her eyes tight and wished the voice would disappear. It did not.
“Velanora, what did I do wrong?” The voice came in a tone of sorrow.
It was her sister’s voice. She had discovered her sister, lifeless and long gone, beneath the debris of their formerly cozy home. She placed her within the once thriving orchard belonging to their father. Every moment was returning to her mind now in full force.
“Will you carry me, sister? ‘Nora, please carry me. I’m so tired.” She couldn’t even fathom how to carry what wasn’t even visible. If her sister had followed her, she still could not see her. It seemed that her sister didn’t even know she was dead. Whatever the exact answer was, one thing was certain. Rules were being broken. Communication between the deceased and living was a dark magic. She was Velanora, a simple girl, not a warlock. Her sister had now given up any right to be reborn.
Gathering her thoughts and courage, she pushed herself to a standing position once again. “I am here, my sister. We can go now.” With that, she reached out with her hands and felt the crisp, cool sensation that could only mean she had ensured her sister was before her. Raising her arms slightly, she lifted what should have been a small girl, though she was nothing more than the air she breathed.
“Where are we to go, sister?” she asked Velanora with a revived tone of hope.
She responded with the answer best suited for these circumstances; the truth. She said, “We are to seek revenge for all that has been done unto us, our land and our people. Arthas is expecting me soon and I suppose, now he expects us both.”
“Revenge.” Her sister replied with the gentle whisper that rode the wind into the distance.
Day and night continued as they always had, but time was lost. Arthas was a plague on her mind, forcing her eyes to scan the horizon frantically as each minute passed. There was no knowing how much time had passed since she began this journey, but she finally stood still and let herself lean against a decrepit building. The fires had destroyed everything. This area was no different than any other that she had walked through. Even the stone foundation she leaned upon would soon falter and turn to dust.
“Velanora? Why have we stopped?”
She could feel her sister move in a manner that would suggest she now sat beside her. She didn’t have the strength to answer. Not just yet.
“’Nora, my dear sister, you are falling into darkness. Take my hand.”
Her sister was quite right, but she did not move at the request. These lands were thick with the cursed magic of Arthas. It hung in the air and penetrated her heart. It clung to her skin and tangled itself in her hair. Her mind was being affected by the stench of death.
Her final words to her sister were in a firm tone. “Leave me now. Arthas already took you from me, I will not allow him to take your soul. A prisoner in some shard around his neck is not the fate I wish you to hold.”
She started to choke the remaining words out as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I can’t explain it in a way that makes sense, but you have to leave me because you’re all I have left.”
“I love you, Velanora.” The response was so quiet it was almost a dream.
She was left alone from that moment on. The spirit of her sister had vanished as though she were never there to begin with. She continued walking now, determined to get to Arthas, finish the job and hopefully, restore her home.
She entered foreign lands quickly enough. The fires had not entirely destroyed these territories. The beasts that hid within the surrounding brush eyed her suspiciously. She could feel them watching her and though she could reach into the hearts and minds of the beasts back home, these were a different breed of creature. Foul demons such as these would have no heart to search within or plead with for help, nor would they offer it.
The sudden sharp cry of a wolf pierced the air, causing her thoughts to plummet into fear and make her heart race. The large figure crept slowly along the horizon. She could only hope he was alone.
She had to pretend to have courage, but it got her moving again. She continued on her path. Death paced on the horizon, snarling at her every so often. His yellow eyes were fixed on her, watching every step she took. She discovered at the start of this journey that she was going at it without a single weapon. Now she wished she would have found something to replace her daggers.
The wolf was anxious and let out another sharp cry that flew through her chest like the tip of a sword. As she focused her eyes on him she realized he truly was alone. Only beasts of a desperate nature ever roam alone. He was most likely conflicted as some rabid disease warped his mind and took over his senses.
She was within a few feet of him now. He seemed to tower over her, though she tried to stand as straight and tall as her courage would allow. They stared into each other’s eyes. She didn’t take another step.
Nothing happened.
She could feel the wolf in her mind, allowing her to search his heart. She had never tried to reach the soul of a wolf before. She tried not to sound shaken or intimidated when she asked, “What have you come to me for, great one?”
He replied quickly, revealing an arsenal of jagged teeth, “I was great until he destroyed my land. I was great long before he was born.”
She tried to replicate the pride that sent a shiver down her spine, “I know of the man you speak. I am going to destroy him.”
He snarled and looked to the North. “Arthas,” he responded and shot out a painful howl. “He took my pack.”
She nodded and slowly sat on the ground before the great beast. She spoke as quietly as her sister had done, “I seek revenge.” As she said this, he howled deep into the sky, forcing even the blackest of clouds to shatter from his power.
She wanted to speak to him further, “You are still strong, great one. Will you join me on this path of certain death? I am prepared to sacrifice what I must.” He replied with a wicked grin on his face, “It would be my pleasure, Velanora.” How could he know her name? “You honor me great one, but how did you know my name?” The scars on his face seemed to pinch the grin into a permanent sneer. The pride within him was swirling around the air and he merely replied, “I have my ways.”
She didn’t question the wolf, for he was around long before she was ever a thought in her parents’ minds. She followed and remained deep in thought, trying to reach answers within the beast’s soul. He was keeping enough doorways closed to where she couldn’t get the answers she sought.
“I do not wish to reveal everything just yet,” he said though they hadn’t spoken in many miles. She was no longer at ease with her new companion. She hadn’t counted on his ability to read her thoughts and intentions.
The sound of dead timber cracking from behind forced them to come to an immediate halt. There were abrupt noises now in all directions. It was hard to gauge a position. She crouched to the ground, though it would not help. There wasn’t anything to hide behind and they were surrounded.
One by one the demons crept over the horizon. Crawling, dragging extra limbs and slithering towards them; the end was near. She glanced around in panic, hoping to find some opportunity for escape. Just as she thought it would all be over she saw a break in the shadows at the Eastern edge. She took off running immediately knowing that the wolf would have most likely spotted this same route and joined her.
She ran faster than ever before. The path to survival was within her grasp. It was not meant to be though. The wolf leapt in front of her, blocking her path. Immediate confusion clouded her mind and she screamed aloud at him, “What are you doing, are you crazy?” He approached her as the demons closed the gap that would have been her freedom. His response was, “I will not let you escape me just yet, Velanora.” His jaws snapped as he spoke.
“You have doomed me, Wolf.” She no longer used a title of respect as she replied. Her words were dry and harsh. As she attempted to walk past him, his teeth wrapped around her thigh and clenched tightly. Having little threshold for pain, she fell to the ground in a puddle of her own blood.
She awoke to find her head spinning as she tried to regain composure. The dirt on the ground trembled slightly as she looked up to see the creator of such a dark force; Arthas now stood before her.
She looked over to see the wolf, grin and all. “Pathetic dog,” she spat in his face. He had taken her straight to Arthas where she wouldn’t have a plan, nor course of action. Gripping her shoulders, Arthas forced her eyes to meet his gaze. When they did, it was over.
She felt cold. Then, she felt nothing at all. It was so swift she could have hardly known the difference. Her eyes slowly faded into the shadow and she succumbed to every ounce of darkness that Arthas wanted to give her. No ash, nor fire could produce the change she felt inside her. Arthas himself had to be the one to rip up any living portrait and he did it with so much ease. She belonged to him now.
She awaited her orders, as she now knew that there would be plenty. Without even seeing him flinch, Arthas struck her on the head. She was out cold. Unconscious nightmares swirled in her mind as her body was carried to the very place that Arthas once laid his head.
“Velanora, we must be swift like the wind. Come, today is your final lesson.” The sun drenched lynx grinned, revealing the only weapons he would ever carry. She loved him more deeply than he could ever know.
The Alpha Lynx took her under his wing when she had proven herself in saving his life. It was not asked for, but she did it without hesitation. When he was surrounded with no escape, she leapt into battle against his attackers without a weapon. She used her height and ferocity to ensure they would never return.
“Heart of a Golden Lynx,” he said on that fateful day. He raked his claws across her arm; a symbol of their partnership. “You are to be my student, Golden One.” He seemed to swell up with pride as he spoke.
They made their way back to his clan where she was introduced and forever called “Golden One”. She was embraced by his kin and always allowed in their territory.
Now she was on her last trial with the Alpha Lynx. They went in silence through the forest, running swiftly as the lynx had first commanded. Coming upon a clearing, they positioned themselves behind a mass of branches that had gotten tangled up with a nearby shrubbery. They were so tightly intertwined that it was nearly impossible to see the two hunters.
She peered through the natural webbing created by the twisted vines only to see a man standing with his face toward the sky. He looked as though he was seeking an answer where none would be given. Looking questioningly at the Lynx, she received a quick response, “This man doesn’t belong here. He will cause much death if we do not intervene.” Her loyalty to the Lynx would never falter. As he revealed their hiding place and attacked, so did she.
Darkness suddenly engulfed the clearing. A voice of anger and hatred echoed within their chests. She heard the voice of death and it sounded very grim indeed, “You cannot undo what has already been done. Wake up.”
Breathing slowly as though she were in a deep sleep, she awoke without stirring. Her eyes remained shut as she listened to the unfamiliar sounds of her new surroundings. She had been taught well by the Alpha Lynx back home. She wouldn’t fail him now. Every word he ever spoke to her still rang true. She concentrated on keeping her breath shallow and her heart steady.
Her eyes immediately opened wide when Arthas beckoned her to his side. A blur of motion occurred which confused her greatly. It was her own body and actions, but she was not entirely in control. Never the less, Arthas was now before her in his blackened, blood stained armor.
He did not speak, but she knew what her orders were now. The gift she was born with, allowing her to communicate with creatures of the land was to be used to harness the minds of thieves and bandits. She would ready these rotten souls for battle under the orders of a Death Knight.
There was only one emotion left in the shell that she now was. As she now had her orders, she focused further on her revenge. Her thoughts swarmed around the heartache and betrayal she had felt so recently. Everything brought her back to the man in the clearing, looking up at the sky seeking an answer. Arthas.
Moonbrook was one of the only towns left that was housing a great deal of pathetic, lowlife scum. Of course, all of these moronic drones were under the order of Edwin VanCleef. The name rolled off her tongue with a bitter sneer. A sad excuse for a man his age, wallowing away his days in an old pirate ship, hundreds of feet underground in a mine. She knew where he would be, who would attempt to go against her and the massive army she would walk away with.
She walked with intent. Her mind was deep in thought when her concentration was suddenly broken. She had been given a sword by Arthas; it was now at the throat of The Messanger. A scavenger type, this man was no threat. For crossing into her, startling her and even brushing up against her, she should destroy him. Such thoughts of hatred though were not her own. She remembered the days when VanCleef was a man of Stormwind and this Messanger was a small boy running down the streets of innocence.
Stormwind. Arthas. It was all coming back to her. Everything from her past flooded into her mind. Arthas had not entirely rid her of certain memories. It would seem that he left her with every ounce of revenge and hatred that he could find. VanCleef was an over-the-top extremist and indeed, she did hate him. She remembered it all now. She gripped at her chest and found a heart full of darkness. Her knees buckled and she dropped fast and hard to the ground.
Her eyes were lit with the only emotion she now carried. In a cry of vengeance she yelled, “Uncle, Uncle!” Thieves and bandits throughout Moonbrook came out of hiding to witness this bizarre scene. A woman, pale as ice, seemed to be yelling and screaming like a lost child. Her armor and sword forced them to question her motives immediately and they saw her as a threat. She continued to yell for her Uncle as the men took up arms and surrounded her.
A rough, middle aged man stepped into the crowd, pushing his way to the front and ordering men to stand down. He put his hand forcefully on her shoulder armor and demanded a response, “Why have you come here?” He stared into her empty eyes. She looked familiar to him.
He couldn’t immediately recognize her, but they were kin. His name was Sebastian. Once a handsome young man, he ventured into distant lands to seek fame and fortune. He never expected to remain in such foreign territories, but a certain beauty had stolen his heart. Her mother’s sister had married Sebastian, but they soon found that they could not have children of their own. She was embraced by their love and accepted like a daughter, but there was always a void. Sebastian left when the word “war” touched the lips of his friends and family. He was the first to pick up a sword and hadn’t returned.
War changes you. She had loved her uncle, regardless of what anyone said. He wasn’t set out to be a role model. He was made for adventure and risk. The only reason a band of Kobold diggers decided to help him was due to his hiding of all their candles. He took their most prized possession to ensure she had an escape route to come find him. That very route was the path she took when the destruction came and created a series of nightmares that she would carry for the rest of her life. Each moment brought her closer to Arthas and now, it brought her back to Sebastian.
“I say to you again, why are you here?” His voice was hard and unfaltering.
She rose with the unnatural strength that Arthas had given her; a gift from the darkness. Her height was alarming and the tight-knit circle that had surrounded her had begun to loosen. She quickly destroyed their free will with each glance from her own empty eyes. She would train any of the pathetic dogs that lived through her rage. She glared at the man still questioning her.
“Why are you here, Velanora?” At last, after so many moments of silence and terror, the man recalled his own niece. She responded with a cold dead answer, “These men are mine now, ‘Bastian. They will enter the ranks of an army that Azeroth has never before met. Arthas has seen to that.”
No one spoke until Sebastian questioned her yet again, “And who is this Arthas? Surely VanCleef will not allow you to take all of his pawns. Do you think you can walk out of here unscathed? I am not here to protect you, Velanora.”
“Step aside, ‘Bastian.” The words ran from her mouth like a dagger racing for his heart, tossing him aside like a rag doll. She was not the small child that used to love him regardless of his flaws.
“Uncle, uncle! I fell over there,” she spoke quickly and pointed, “and then this boy laughed at me! The animals said I should come to you because you love me most and can make it all better.” She cried and dried her own tears at the same time. At such a young age she was already growing so strong.
He reached down and lifted her gently to his chest, holding her carefully he spoke with a soft tone, “My little ‘Nora, you are getting so big. Where are you hurt?” As he spoke he noticed the small tear in her pants and smiled. “Were you racing this boy down the stream by chance?”
She tried to hide a smirk but he knew her best. He asked with a grin, “Well, did you win?” She beamed up at him with the biggest smile. He set her down in the garden amongst the flowers. She looked as though she belonged in a sunrise.
He opened the door to the house and motioned for her to follow, “Come on let’s get you cleaned up so you can have another go at it.” As he watched this small child skip through the doorway into his heart, he closed the door with a sigh.
His words were unrelenting now, “You are not welcome here, stranger.”
She spoke to him one last time with words that sent a shiver down his spine, “Welcome or not I will leave with these men hovering beneath my feet. They will serve me through their training. When they see a shadow engulf the lands they will be judged by Arthas himself.”
One last look at her former Uncle and she turned to leave with an army. She would allow him to choose his own path as he had once chosen to leave before. Let him fight the force that Azeroth will not be able to stop. Let him try.
“VanCleef will hear of this!” He yelled over the increasing sound of each man dragging his feet on the dirt road.
Her response was followed by a series of swift movements. The dagger that was aimed for her throat was now against the chest of a man she gripped in dead air. He gasped and coughed up blood as her gauntlets dug into the neck and shoulders of the would-be assassin. She tossed VanCleef aside as though he weighed nothing at all. “He already has,” she spoke with a sneer.
She spat on him, kicking him in the ribs and stated, “Pathetic dog, you were never worthy enough to lead anyone. Look at you now. You will join Arthas. Get in line.”
Sebastian was left standing alone after the dust had settled. She walked toward the future with the beginning of a massive army.
She surveyed the surrounding area. Minions of mice and men collapsed at her feet as they had traveled for days without rations.
"Worthless," she called each of them with a resounding tone of annoyance.
The wretched fiends were indeed worthless to her cause, at least until Arthas turned them permanently. The darkness she carried with her had already snuck into their little hearts, destroying any remaining emotions. They weren’t even allowed to keep revenge, as she had.
She spoke aloud often these days, though she would never get a response. She was the leader of an army, one that dared not defy her. The heathens would do as she willed without a second breath of wind passing by her lips. They would tremble as her cold embrace engulfed their last will of freedom.
The army entered Duskwood.
Night ascended upon them. She let a smirk cross her face, creating the creases of mischief in her cheeks. Her eyes were glinting with the presence of a thousand ideas. She would bring darkness where darkness is never absent; a perfect illusion.
Duskwood fell into the blackened shroud that night and never returned. The army trudged on as she walked in front laughing into the moonlight. Rain touched her face gently at first and then the trenches quickly filled. The men let their eyes fall further to the ground.
One man in particular was breathing heavily. His eyes were closed tight and his hands were balled into fists at his side. He fell to his knees. She did not stop. The army continued as the man suffered and fought off demons of his own. He spoke to himself, “No, don’t let go of this one. Not this one.” He was holding onto one last memory.
The sound of a train sweltered in his thoughts. The fireplace raged with a glow he could only recall now as a whisper. His mind backed into a corner. A child's toy circled some tracks, sounding the whistle. A small boy claimed the title of "Conductor" and beamed with delight. It was a crisp winter morning. There sat his father, grinning and smoking his pipe. He could hear his father's thoughts, "A find young lad I've got and a fine young man he'll be!" The train suddenly derailed from the tracks. The face of the father began to fade and the boy began to call out his name. With one final push of mercy, the man clung to the memory. The father stood and went to the boy, placing his hand on his shoulder.
Her hand was cold as ice. "Get up," she said biting her lip, struggling not to destroy the would-be soldier in her army. He still knelt and clung to the memory as though it were his very essence. He would not look at her.
With a movement so swift it could not be foreseen, she lifted the man by one hand and stared him in the eyes. With that, the boy, the father, the train and the crisp winter morning had all disappeared forever.
Duskwood would never fully recover from the chaos of that night. She sent the pathetic dogs into every house, store and shack. No table was left unturned, no light was left to shine and no one would defy her ever again.
"Only darkness will claim this land. There will be no light." She said this repeatedly and on occasion a foolish townsman would approach her. Just as quickly, they were entered into the ranks of her army. Thief or not - she needed numbers on her side.
Alas, the gears in her mind were turning even further. While Duskwood was in ruin and under cover of darkness, they would back track slightly; only enough to reach a certain path heading toward a port of pirates. Who better to enter into her own ranks than a dirty, no-good pirate? Perhaps even the Goblins would find it hard to remain neutral this time around.
She would bring the force to be reckoned with. Azeroth would have to choose a new fate.
Contact
