Warcraft Fan Fiction ❯ Bloodstained Shadows - Chronicles of a Lost Soul ❯ The Kiss of Nightfall - Chapter 12 ( Chapter 42 )

Chapter 12:

 

 

The Scarlet Crusade was destroyed. The few that survived now call themselves 'Scarlet Onslaught' and are sailing to the frozen wastes, directly into our open arms. They say the Holy Light is guiding them. Well, maybe the 'Holy Light' has turned insane too, I wonder.

They will be dealt with later after they will have arrived in Northrend.

But now the eye of the Lich King hast shifted his sight to another target. He spoke his final command, all attention is turned to Light's Hope. The armies of the Scourge pour down the hill to Browman's Mill gathering in a fair distance to the Chapel.

The final battle for the plaguelands approaches and we are destined to win. They have no chance. Our numbers reach into the tens of thousands. The necromancers even summoned a large fleshgiant from Icecrown. This creature is similar to the small abominations with a more humanoid look to it. It is also a good bit stronger. I don't even know if they have a hundred warriors at the chapel. This should be as easy as cherry picking.

Highlord Mograine will lead the charge. You can almost feel how the corrupted Ashbringer on his back is happily awaiting the fight.

Koltira, Bloodbane, Thassarian and I are sitting on our deathchargers behind him.

The area around the sawmill is crowded with ghouls, all of them blabbering strange things. Many of them are still wearing the uniform of the Scarlet Crusade. Sweet, sweet irony.

Everything turns quiet as Highlord Darion Mograine lifts his left hand. Even the ghouls fall silent, I ask myself if they actually listen or if they are only `shut down' by the master.

“The Argent Dawn stands defiantly against us at Light's Hope Chapel. They dare to oppose the Scourge and for that reason alone they must be destroyed!”, his voice is loud and clear. The few minions with a mind of their own cheer as he makes a pause. Like a real leader, he is able to reach his underlings. Orbaz and I are probably the only ones that remain quiet.

“The mighty armies of the Lich King stand at the ready as the final battle for the plaguelands approaches.”, he takes a deep breath and then shouts out, “Today you will ascend into the immortal realm of Scourge heroes!”

This time even Bloodbane and myself can't hold back cheering.

“Are you prepared, deathknights?”

The loud yells of the minded-ones are a clear `yes, we are'.

“So be it then. Soldiers of the Scourge, stand ready! Prepare to unleash your fury upon the Argent Dawn!”, now he is addressing to all the undead in the area.

“The sky weeps at the glorious devastation of these lands! Soon, Azeroth's futile tears will rain down upon us! Deathknights of Acherus, the death march begins! Soldiers of the Scourge, minions of darkness: hear the call of the Highlord! RISE! The skies turn red with the blood of the fallen! The Lich King watches over us, minions! Leave only ashes and misery in your destructive wave!”

The ghouls moan loudly as the Mograine points towards the Chapel. This is the order to attack. I am the first to charge at Lights Hope with my deathcharger.

I will do as you have ordered master. I will offer you many souls today. I will make you proud.

Directly behind me follows the Highlord. The moment his horse charged, everyone else started going after us. It is astonishing that these ghouls can easily keep up with our horses. Their crooked and wretched sight is treacherous. The fleshgiant was the last to start moving, but due to its enormous size it easily travels as fast as the ghouls.

"Scourge armies approaching!", I hear them yell. "Stand fast, brothers and sisters! The Light will prevail!"

I slow down a bit so that Mograine can catch up with me and some of the faster geists overtake us.

The defenders of the Light are already standing on the small hill the chapel was built upon, waiting for us to arrive. They are more than I expected, a few hundreds in total. Still not even close to enough to defeat us.

I jump off my steed and dismiss it to the realm of shadows, I won't need it here. It would only be in the way.

I have already decided how I want to call the sword my master gave to me an hour ago. Armageddon shall be its name and with it I will show the Argent Dawn true despair!

After finding a name for the blade, it seems that it became slightly lighter. Since then I am able to lift it with a single hand, I still use two hands to strike nevertheless.

Once a blow is set into motion, nothing can stop this mighty weapon. Everything that is not cut by the sharp edge will surely be smashed by the momentum of the huge blade.

The first defender of the Light that comes charging towards me tries to block my first strike with his hammer. His little weapon is torn apart as well as his arms are. The range of the sword is incredible too. It is easy to hit someone who is standing more than three feet away from you. Mastering a weapon like this will surely increase my capabilities.

From the corner of my eyes I see Koltira with his new weapon. The blade cuts easily through the thickest layers of armour. I guess his weapon is the sharpest of ours. The way he fights looks more like dancing. Honestly, with every minute I spend together with this guy, elves lose more and more of my sympathy.

"Spare no one!", the Highlord cries out as a member of the Argent Dawn falls to the Ashbringer. The blade tastes the blood of his foes.

Even though you know the weapon you wield is nothing more than a piece of metal you still look at it as an entity. You treat it with respect, you even call it by its name. It becomes someone who is close to you, it becomes a friend.

Armageddon will be terrific `friend' for me. One warrior after the other falls to my sword. I taste the blood myself as a few spurts hit my face. Bloodbane is also fighting like a madman. His eyes are widened, an insane smile shines on his face as he crushes bones and cuts open his enemies.

The members of the Argent Dawn fall, hundreds of them are dead already, torn apart by our weapons, by the teeth and the claws of the ghouls all around us.

"What?... Power... wanes...", the Highlord is tumbling. What is happening there? He strikes down another foe. "The Ashbringer defies me... Minions! To my aid!", ghouls come rushing towards him and attack the warriors surrounding Mograine.

"You will do as I command! I am in control here!", he yells at his blade. Why is the Ashbringer suddenly like this? It is one of the mightiest weapons the Scourge has. What is going on?

"My... I cannot strike...!?"

A faint glow can be seen from the woods. Orbaz Bloodbane lowers his weapon for a moment as everybody turns their heads.

"You cannot win, Darion!", the voice is that of an old man. Yet you still see that he was once a strong fighter. He is wearing a golden armour emitting a strong glow, as if he is the Light himself. His hair and the beard are completely white.

"Tirion Fordring?", our Highlord asks in disbelief.

Bloodbane seems to know this man too, he summons his unholy steed in an instance and flees to the south. A few members of the Argent Dawn want to chase him, but his mount is too fast.

Fordring rides with his mount directly through the masses of undead to the front of the chapel.

The ghouls back off as he passes them, they don't even want to touch him.

Paralyzed by the sight, they are cut down easily by the warriors of the Argent Dawn.

"To the Chapel with them!"

Strange rays of light suddenly engulf Thassarian, Koltira and me. All three of us drop our weapons as we are pulled by an incredible force towards Fordring. We are smashed to the ground in front of him with an unknown pressure upon us. I manage to get up a little, but all I can do is kneel before Fordring.

As Tirion's eyes look upon the Highlord, he is also forced to his knees. All the other deathknights are also pinned to the ground.

Only seconds later Mograine announces our defeat. “Stand down deathknights. We have lost... The Light... This place... No hope...” I would have never expected to hear something like this from him.

Tirion Fordring now opens his mouth to speak up.

“Have you learned nothing boy? You have become all that your father fought against. Like that coward, Arthas, you allowed yourself to be consumed by the darkness... the hate. Feeding upon the misery of those you tortured and killed!” My whole body aches as I am pressed down to the ground.

“Your master knows what lies beneath this Chapel. It is why he dares not show his face! He`s sent you and your deathknights to meet their doom, Darion!”

The... master sent us to our own end?

“What you are feeling right now is the anguish of a thousand lost souls! Souls that you and your master brought here! The light will tear you apart!”

“Save your breath, old man It might be the last you ever draw!”, Mograine announces as he fights against the same pressure as I do. He gathers al the strength he has left and stands up.

The Ashbringer in his hands starts to glow in a bright light all of a sudden. The image of a man with a sword in his hand forms behind us. That man... I have seen him before. Could this be? The weapon in his hand leaves no doubt. This is the Ashbringer, Alexandros Mograine, his soul has left the corrupted blade!

“My son. My dear, beautiful boy.”, the voice is faint, a bit hollow even, as if he is far away.

“Father?”, Darion says in disbelief, “Argh..., what is...”, he falls to his knees again. Another almost grey figures forms before our eyes. This... this is Darion Mograine when he was younger? “Father you have returned! You have been gone a long time, Father! I thought...”

The voice of Alexandros is calm and soothing. “Nothing could keep me away from my home and family.” With every word he speaks I see images of Alexandros Mograine standing in a large hall in front of an altar. I see the bright glow of the mighty weapon on his back. I can almost listen to his voice preaching to the crowd.

“Father, I wish to join you in the war against the undead! I can sit idle no longer! I want to fight!”, Darion announces.

“Darion Mograine, you are barely of age to hold a sword, let alone battle the undead hordes of Lordaeron!” I couldn't bear losing you. Even the thought...”, Alexandros responds with a tear in his eye.

“If I die, father, I would rather be on my feet, standing in defiance against the undead legions! If I die, father, I die with you!”, his voice is clear. He is sure of what he speaks.

With a smile Alexandros speaks up again.

“My son, there will come a day when you will command the Ashbringer and, with it, mete justice across this land. I have no doubt that when that day finally comes, you will bring pride to our people and that Lordaeron will be a better place because of you. But, my son, that day is not today. Do not forget...”

A black portal of shadow magic that is in constant motion appears behind the vision of Alexandros.

“Touching...”, the voice of the Lich King fills the air. “He is mine now...” He steps out of the portal. As the blade of Frostmourne touches the back of Alexandros he is sucked into the weapon.

The image of the younger Mograine also disappears, but back to its host.

I gaze at the scene and try to comprehend what is happening here. It is hard to think anything at all.

“You have betrayed me! You betrayed all of us, you monster! FACE THE MIGHT OF MOGRAINE!”, the Highlord cries out and charges blindly at his former master. The Lich King doesn't even bother starting a counter, he only repels his attack, which send Darion flying to the side.

“Pathetic...”, he lifts his sword and points it at Tirion Fordring.

“You were right, Fordring. I did send them to die. Their lives are meaningless, but yours...”

It..., it can't be. It was the truth? He sent us here to meet our own death. He sent us to die just to lure out an old man? My hand touches the small bag at my belt. I went through all this to be sold to my own demise by him without batting an eye? Anger... hatred... despair... sorrow... all these feelings rise up in me. Armageddon lies next to the feet of Arthas. It is impossible to get to it from here. If I could only reach it.

“How simple it was to draw the great Tirion Fordring out of hiding. You've left yourself exposed, paladin. Nothing will save you now!”

Rays of shadow magic shoot from Frostmourne to Tirion. They hit him and spread all over his body sending him to his knees grasping for air.

One of the warriors of the Argent Dawn that are also watching the scene takes initiative and shouts “ATTACK!”

Everybody who can move rushes at Arthas.

With a wave of his hand all of them are knocked back, several even die. “APOCALYPSE!”

The shadows try to get a hold of Tirion Fordring.

A faint voice from the side speaks up again. “This day... is not today... TIRION!”, Mograine shouts out and throws the Ashbringer to Fordring. The moment Tirion grabs the sword Darion collapses. I'm not sure if he is alive or dead. I feel so useless... I can't do anything.

Only seconds after the Ashbringer came to the hands of Fordring, the glow of the blade grows stronger. I don't believe it!

The Ashbringer is cleansed as Tirion becomes awash with light, also disrupting the spell of the Lich King.

“ARTHAS!”, his voice shows no sign of anger, but purity.

“What is this?”, the Lich King makes a step back.

“Your end.”, Tirion replies short before he charges at him and strikes.

The Lich King is hardly able to block the attack.

“Impossible... This isn't over yet! The next time we meet, it won't be on holy ground, paladin!”, he leaves through the dark portal behind him, closing it immediately after he had stepped through it. He left us here. He left us to die...

The pressure on my body dissolves. I slowly walk over to my weapon and pick it up under the wary eyes of the Argent Dawn. I make a gesture to calm them down and fix the sword to my back.

“Rise Darion!”, I hear Fordring call out, but I don't listen to what they talk about.

I notice how memories return, the bond to my former master seems to be shattered.

I know my name... all of the names I had over the time. I remember Corren and what happened to him. I remember that I was part of the Scarlet Crusade. I come to realize that I probably killed some of my former fellow apprentices today. I remember Keira and what she used to tell me about the dragon flights.

I remember the time after dying the first time. I remember Darnys and Calystea.

My head starts aching.

I open the small bag I took from Keira's body. Inside there is the ring I slid off her finger, two things that look like fangs and a scale in a bright red colour. Thinking about the possibility alone that she wanted to give this scale to me makes me feel sick.

I want to cry but I can't.

I hear how Tirion shouts out loud. “The Argent Crusade comes for you, ARTHAS!”

“So too do the Knights of the Ebon Blade... While our kind has no place in this world, we will fight to bring an end to the Lich King. THIS I VOW!”, Mograine speaks.

It is easy for me to focus my hatred on Arthas. Everything that had happened was due to him. The death of my father and mother, my friends... my own... And now he wanted to sacrifice me just to lure out one paladin.

But I don't really want to be part of the Ebon Blade, at least not like this.

Mograine turns to the rest of us deathknights.

“Brothers and sisters. There will be no atonement for us. We are forever damned to walk the earth as monsters. While the Lich King may have loosed his grip upon us, the spectres of the past will forever haunt our memories!”, he makes a short pause. Yes, they will for sure.

“We have to make amends in the only way we know how: DEATH!”, he raises his arm.

“I ask you now to join me in Acherus as Knights of the Ebon Blade. Together we will destroy the Lich King and end the Scourge!”

I put the items back into the bag. The last thing that I turn in my hand is the red scale. The skin of my fingers that touch it almost seems to be alive again for a few seconds. I want to shed a tear for what had happened to me, but on the other side I still had become stronger.

They all want revenge for their betrayal.

But I want vengeance for everything that Arthas had done to me, my family and my friends.

I vow to myself and the spirits of the ones I loved that have passed away.

Arthas will suffer! He will get what he deserves for everything he has done!

I will be one to bring him to his knees, no matter what it takes.

I will be the one to take Frostmourne from his cold, life-less fingers!