Warcraft Fan Fiction ❯ Bloodstained Shadows - Chronicles of a Lost Soul ❯ Frozen Hearts - Chapter 7 ( Chapter 52 )

Chapter 7:

 

 

The sun was standing high above the Stormpeaks when I received the note.

I had never gotten a message delivered by a skeletal hawk in this part of the world. Neither did Abigore and snorted at the undead bird trying to intimidate the creature as it approached us.

I've been travelling the frozen vastness of these rigged mountains for three days now.

One could say I fled from the loud, drumming heart of Dalaran to a more peaceful and quiet place.

And I used my spare time to train my fighting skills a bit against the iron dwarves near Ulduar. Sadly I didn't find a single worthy opponent there, so I started heading east. From the top of a cliff I looked down into a valley where I spotted a huge hole in the ground. The only things I can tell for sure is that it was filled with strange machinery and that it easily had the size to fit the complete city of Dalaran into the opening.

I travelled to the very edge of the Stormpeaks, where I only found another sheer down to the open sea.

An endless amount of water in front of me, I searched the area for something I didn't know of. I can't really explain why, maybe the Saronite finally gets to me after all.

The one thing I actually found was a hidden camp of the Taunka. Not expecting they would greet me too kindly, I decided to avoid them. Which proved rather difficult, because I tried to stay within their hunting grounds, so they found me eventually.

Their warriors didn't care too much about me, however. As long as I didn't attack them, they would leave me alone, at least that was what I figured.

Unexpectedly the next day, a shaman of them, together with a small group of four guards, approached me while I was sitting on a boulder staring at the open sea. I have to admit those large, bulky bison-like Taunka looked rather fearsome. Yet I doubt that those guards would have been enough to restrain me if I had actually wanted to kill them.

To my surprise the shaman welcomed me to their village, he actually knew a few fragments of the common orcish language.

He offered me a place to sleep and invited me to eat with them under one condition. He pointed towards Shadow's Edge tied to my deathcharger. The axe would not be allowed inside their village. It was a vile and evil weapon in their eyes, something pure stained by the shadows. Maybe that weapon would suit me after all some day when I will think of it as `ready`.

I made clear that it was not because of the terms the shaman had made and declined their offer. He didn't try to talk back and accepted the answer. He understood, he said followed by something in his native language sounding like Taur-ahe which I didn't understand before he and his guards left me sitting on the rock where I was.

Probably a farewell or a blessing, I can`t recall the words.

It was today, about noon when the crooked bird came flying towards me. It landed right next to me, stretching his leg towards me. This... thing was a disgusting sight. It was nothing near a clean skeleton of a hawk. Rotten flesh and even a few lone feathers were still attached to it.

I took a moment to look at this hideous creature. It raised its head with the two empty black eye-sockets staring at me, opening the remaining part of its cracked beak to yell at me with a silent scream.

A small note was tied to its leg.

I was careful when taking it, trying not to rip the creature apart.

The signet on the roll of paper was easily recognizable - a large black sword.

The whole text was written in a delightful red, making me wonder if the ink might have actually been what it looked like.

Darion Mograine ordered me to return to the black fortress of the Ebon Blade, Acherus.

It seemed information travelled fast of my `success' at the pitiful tournament of the Argent Crusade, especially because the Ebon Blade did everything they could to stay away from it as far as possible. Which proved to be practically impossible, for I stumbled upon a few of their `ambassadors' on the tournament grounds. I wondered why they had been sent there, surveillance I hoped.

Although I'm not a member of the Ebon Blade as such, or at least that is what I tend to say, I felt a certain responsibility towards following this call. After all, Darion Mograine still knows of my existence and how I helped them to recover Acherus.

I then left the Stormpeaks and headed for the Howling Fjord in the south east of Northrend. On its coast I would find an outpost of the Forsaken with a zeppelin that could take me to Tirisfal. In Undercity I then took a bat towards Light's Hope.

And here I am now, high above the western plaguelands on my way to the black fortress. I take a look at the lands that are forsaken by the light, minions of the Scourge roaming them restlessly.

As the bat lands directly next to the chapel of Light's Hope, a member of the Ebon Blade is already awaiting my arrival.

He speaks his greetings in a direct fashion without any hidden denotations. It's good to meet somebody who behaves unconditionally towards one, once in a while. I guess that's one of the main reasons for most deathknights to join the Ebon Blade.

A skeletal gryphon takes me up to the flying fortress, while flying I think about its similarities to Naxxramas. It's been quite a while since the last time I had been in Acherus.

Darion Mograine resides in the middle of the lower level. Surrounded by bookshelves he stands waiting for me.

He seems busy talking to a group of lower deathknights, but turns his head towards me as soon as I approach him.

“Begone!”, his dark voice echoes to the lower ones and at the sign of his hand they retreat in a fast pace without any further word.

“We know much about sacrifice.”, he states as a greeting, “Are you ready to sacrifice even more?” I wonder what he wants to say with these words so I remain silent for the moment.

“This question you had to ask yourself... And today is the day when you have to answer it. Greetings Malevolence.”

I shortly nod in response to him. He knows that I don't like to talk that much, at least he should remember.

“We have been keeping track of your actions lately. I am pleased to see your success at the tournament...” I interrupt him bluntly by asking, “What?”

“Patience is a virtue; one I no longer possess, so it would be advisable to restrain your tongue, no matter what you have done for us or might do in the future.”, he makes a short pause.

“Yes we have been watching you. It was only advisable, you are the bearer of the axe, nonetheless.”

I open my mouth to speak, but the only thing I can manage to say is, “Bearer of the axe?”

“I see, you still haven't found out for yourself. So be it then.” he speaks slowly.

“Found out what?” I ask him with a pressing tone, slowly I start to feel provoked.

“The weapon you are carrying, the axe I left in your possession, deathknight. I think you named it bluntly `Shadow's Edge' according to what you felt when you saw it for the first time.” He looks at me with his eyes narrowed.

“SUMMON IT!”, he shouts at me, “The deathcharger! NOW!”

I'm taken aback by this command, but I follow his orders immediately. Something about this situation is strange. I don't see how any of this makes sense. That is probably the reason why I follow the command without thinking, I want to know what he is talking about.

Abigore comes into this realm with a shriek like a banshee, the axe tightly fastened to his side.

I slightly pet the horse on its head as a greeting as he moves a few steps closer to me.

Shadow's Edge is overflowing with energy it has collected from the realm of shadows. It is shining in a bright violet glow, leaving it barely visible, black waves pouring out of its blade into this world. It sucks up the light around us, for a moment it seems as if it is getting darker.

“Do you see it now? Do you see the relentless power it yields?”, it is as if you can hear a faint laughter coming from Mograine. “Do you start to understand what you have in your possession? It is an artefact as pure as the shadows.”

My eyes are still fixed to the axe as Mograine continues talking.

“We don't know if it was created as a test-subject, pure chance of fate or as a scheme. The only thing we really found out is that it is forged from the purest Saronite one can find in the mountains of Icecrown, combined with titanium to add weight and then etched with the acidic blood of the most horrible abominations the army of the Lich King contains.”, Darion glares at the blade of the axe. “Light's Vengeance, the hammer Arthas once wielded as a paladin, was used to create this weapon.”

Slowly the energy pouring out of Shadow's Edge is fading.

“Yet this axe is far from being finished. Maybe they realized what they were about to create and backed off from their undertaking.”

Mograine points at the blade.

“It feeds.”

As if Abigore starts to understand what Darion is talking about, he grows uneasy.

“It feeds upon the shadow, ... upon magic, ... upon mortal souls.” I swallow upon hearing these words.

“Thus is why I have called you here. It is against my judgement that I present you this errand, deathknight, as it will likely end in your undoing. Ignore my council and embark on the endeavour, and I shall provide you with the knowledge and resources to see it through.” it is almost as if he is smiling at me with a foul grin.

I just stare at him for a short moment, trying to grasp what he has just said and prepare for anything that he is about to tell me.

I turn my head to the weapon I've had by my side for so long now, but this time I feel something like dread as I see how the last waves of shadow energy flow out of it.

“Listen well, Malevolence. In accepting this weapon your fate has been sealed. This is a vessel for power, a containment of pure, vile energy.”, he makes a short pause.

“Overcome or succumb.”

I hesitate to answer Mograine. Still this weapon might be exactly what I've been looking for. Darion knows how much hatred I feel when thinking of Arthas. He knows that my only goal is retribution. And he also knows how to make good use of this. I look to the floor for a second trying think, but the ghosts of my past won't let me. They want their peace just as much as I want vengeance.

From one second to the other my mind is blank like a white sheet of parchment.

I look up to Darion and nod to him.

“Tell me...”, I demand. “Tell me what else I need to know.”

It seems that doomsday has come early this year.

“I have placed your feet upon this path. You are therefore my personal responsibility. Should you falter, I am duty-bound to deliver you from this life. Remember these words, deathknight.”

He sounds relieved, but at the same time filled with remorse.

“Even now Shadow's Edge is among the greatest weapons one could obtain.”, his gaze is penetrating.

“Take it!”

As I untie the mighty two-handed axe I already feel how much energy it still contains. This weapon is not even close to being finished and still it can hold energy this large.

The moment my fingers wrap around its handle, I leave behind all my worries and qualms for a blink of an eye. Immediately I can feel how the shadows inhere in this weapon, how they cycle through it.

But still... it feels empty.

“Do you feel the lust for power growing? Or might it even be that this weapon proves to be too much for you?”, Darion asks me with a pressing tone.

I stare at the weapon and start to wonder what this axe might be capable of at full strength. This thought then clinches to my mind. I actually started to want to wield it.

I have no need to answer his question.

“I thought not. A final warning then...”, he takes a deep breath before he continues.

“You now embark on the most treacherous leg of your quest. Bridle your aspirations, for if your aims are impure then your life, your very soul, is forfeit. The weapon you now hold is but an empty husk, a mere shadow of what it may become, ... as you probably know by now.”

For the first time since the beginning of this conversation Darion comes closer to me and the weapon.

“The weapon you are about to create will be similar to the monster we know as Frostmourne. Only by devouring a thousand souls its true potential shall be unlocked. But keep in mind...”, his voice grows louder, “...every soul you take with this weapon will make it stronger, but this will also have its price. For every time the blade on this axe devours an enemy, it shall also take a part of your soul.”

Mograine looks me deep into the eyes.

“This will be the sacrifice you have to make and the first step you have to achieve.”

The words echo in my mind as I look at Shadow's Edge.

“Steel yourself and guide this weapon to fulfil the purpose of its creation. Bring rest to the tortured souls the Lich King has stolen.”

Abigore jumps as I put the axe again in the handle along his side, but I calm him down... for it would only be there for another minute.

I take Armageddon off my back and look at the mighty and heavy blade for a second. It has served me well in many fights. Not many would be capable of using a weapon like this as skilled as I did. It may not be as precise as a dagger, but usually it did the trick nonetheless.

I approach Darion Mograine and hand the sword over to him. Both of us hardly manage to hold it in a proper way due to its sheer size.

“I won't be needing this anymore.”, I say to him in a low voice, my hand still rested on the blade. I say a silent farewell to the old friend. Just as if I had just witnessed a companion dying next to me on the battlefield.

I step back to Abigore and take the cursed axe off his side.

“The next time we will meet, Malevolence, will be when the charge against the black citadel will begin. Prepare yourself for that day. Our eyes lie upon you. A shadow of hope remains.”

The warnings of Darion once again go through my mind as I dismiss Abigore and leave him.

“Harness your hate; make it useful brother. Suffer well...”

Not that I wouldn't care, but I am far more focussed on the possibilities that were revealed to me only minutes ago. I just received exactly what I need to fulfil my goal.

Maybe, just maybe, I will be able to find peace this way.

So destiny will take its course.

I make my way back to the balcony where I had landed with the skeletal gryphon. I will go back to Northrend for the moment and wait for the Ashen Verdict to make their move.

The time for bloodshed has come once more.

As I mount the undead animal that will take me to Undercity I rethink the words of Mograine.

I already offered parts of my soul to the shadows a long time ago... I will see if there is anything left for Shadow's Edge to take.