Denial

Epilogue: The Long Road

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Yet despite having many more miles to tread before reaching journey's end, the draenei has come to a stop.

He kneels by the gravestone, marked alongside others outside Honour Hold. Few of them are proper graves-the soil of Hellfire Peninsula is too hard and rocky to dig deeply and besides, the bodies of the fallen are not always available. And even if they were, what then? Bury them alongside all the other victims who fell in this wasteland? Cast them alongside the bones of draenei and other victims, a testament to this world's bloody history? No. One remembers such history. That does not mean they honour it.

But the victim is honoured. Vindicator Ardelan has seen to that.

There was no real funeral-why mourn one victim over others? Many have died, many more will die and putting the journey of those on the side of justice on hold will do no good. Still, Ardelan has done what he can. A small memorial, and fitting of his friend. Perhaps others will visit here. Perhaps not. But that matters little. His friend lived and died and he will honour his comrade's memory.

"Ardelan...thank you."

Ardelan hears the voice and hears the footsteps, but gives no indication of doing so. He is glad for the visitor's company and will soon resume his journey with said visitor, but for now, he wants to wait. He wants to remember. He wants to reflect. And feeling his friend's hand on his shoulder, now unarmoured, he is glad that he is being given the time to do so.

"Our friend would have liked this," the Vindicator murmurs, rising to his hoofed feet as he does so. "We both owe him."

"I know," the visitor murmurs. She looks down at the inscription. "Short and sweet. He would have liked that."

Ardelan remains silent. Actions speak louder than words, but the quill is mightier than the sword. And while he has used a pick here, the principle remains the same. Words and wounds are temporary, but writing is everlasting. Even when such words spell out the following...

Leonard Ragoa

Year -13 to Year 31

A man of two worlds

And mourned by both

"He won't be forgotten," Ardelan murmurs as one of the fallen's friends approaches, one of the few who could even call him Leonard. "I'll make sure of that."

"And I," affirms the visitor, her voice beginning to crack in grief. "Leonard...I'm glad I could call him that too."

Ardelan simply nods, a tear coming to his eye. He quickly brushes it away though-there's more than enough water in Hellfire's soil right now, even if it will never fully wash away the blood that sullies it. Still, the wounds of mortals heal in time. And turning to face his visitor, bandages wrapped around her lower chest where there was once blood, she stands in living testament to that fact.

"Come on," says the draenei. "We have one last journey to make. Even if Leonard isn't around to guide us."

Her eyes shining with both light and tears, Shahra Dreamsinger simply nods.

In the personal quarters of Prince Kael'thas Sunstrider, it isn't just the fire that's burning.

Heat touches his skin and warms his tunic, but it brings him no comfort. Heat deals with the physical, not the spiritual. And while physically he's fine apart from a lack of sleep, spiritually he's anything but. Illidan has failed the sin'dorei and their ruler. That which he has long denied, has long hoped again in a manner as delusional as his prodigal daughter, has turned out to be true. And the fire isn't going to let him forget it.

"I told you didn't I?" chuckle the flames. "The Betrayer no longer shares the same goals as yourself. Like the leader of the Ashtongue Deathsworn, you will be cast aside in time. The only difference is that you do not deserve such a fate."

The blood mage snorts, but takes a seat nonetheless. He's tired...tired of following a cause he no longer believes in, of living in the shadow of a demon hunter who lost all cognitive ability five years ago. Still, as tired as he is, he is not ready to fall asleep. Not yet. Not until he knows what fire can give him.

"You were right," the blood elf murmurs to the flames, the visage they form not coming as a surprise to him. "If I am Illidan's right hand, then he's become left handed. He cares nothing for my goals or for my people. I, we...we're just a means to an end."

"And that troubles you?"

"More than you know."

The flames laugh. They tend to do that a lot, but Kael isn't surprised. His namesake had to come from somewhere and given the nature of that namesake, manipulation must come as second nature to him. Indeed, his manipulative nature is what has caused the blood elf prince to weigh his options for the past few months. But no more. Shahra failed him, Illidan failed him and the Sunstrider prince has had enough of that.

"As you may suspect, I am like Illidan in some regards," whisper the flames, their crackling filling the room with silent laughter. "I cannot offer your people compassion. However, unlike the Betrayer who has indeed betrayed both of us as well as his own kind, I can offer them respect, not to mention a place in the new order I will create."

"And the nature of that order?" Kael asks, still wary of his new master. "What role will be play?"

"The same role that Illidan had you play. Only this time, I will lead you to glory. The destiny he falsely promised you is within your reach. All that you have to do is reach out and seize it. Become my right hand, the harbinger of my wrath."

Despite his feelings, the blood mage smiles. The very words that Illidan used to delude him upon his rescue from Maiev Shadowsong and now this demon is repeating them, no doubt intentionally. After all, he is not called "the Deceiver" for nothing. And what of those who came before him, such as Gul'dan and Ner'zhul? Is this how it began with them? Lured in by promises that would be broken?

Perhaps, Kael tells himself. But unlike them, I have already been betrayed. So what do I have to lose?

Part of his mind, that nagging, unwanted part, tells him that he has a lot. Not just for himself, but for all his people. Still, he manages to ignore it. He is in the flame's rapture and neither element nor emotion will distinguish them. And having realized that, he kneels on the floor, faces the fire and swears his allegiance.

"Very well my lord. The blood elves are at your command. What are your orders?"

Kil'jaden simply grins.

"Well...here we are."

Shahra remains silent, most of her attention focussed on getting of Ardelan's elekk. It's a difficult task, not only due to the elephant-like creature's size, but due to her own body. Just moving brings her pain and sliding off and landing doesn't do her chest any favours.

"You alright?" the draenei asks, his genuine concern apparent, so unlike when they first met. "I can-..."

"No, I'm fine," answers the high elf through gritted teeth, steadying her breathing as she regains her posture. "You healed me back at the citadel Ardelan. Now I have to let my body take over." Her mouth forms a grin. "And whatever the physicians can give me..."

Shahra can't help but wonder if she's snubbed Ardelan with that comment, climbing up to the Dark Portal with him as she ponders such thoughts. She certainly didn't mean to. After all, he moved heaven and earth to revive her after coming across her body back at Hellfire Citadel and only after expending all his Light-given powers was he able to keep her alive long enough for her to be brought back to Honour Hold for lasting treatment. She owes her life to those surgeons, but Ardelan was the one who saved her in the first place. And she's not likely to forget that.

"So, I suppose this is where we part ways," murmurs the draenei, gesturing to that which lies before them. "The gateway to Azeroth. The land of your birth."

Shahra's gaze averts the portal and not only because of its unnatural nature. She hasn't told Ardelan the truth about her origins, nor that if she had any, she'd only have a year to discover them. While friends should not keep secrets, Ardelan's place is here. His life is here. Her life however, is something else...

"Quel'Thalas is off limits for now," the quel'dorei murmurs. "But Azeroth is a large world. I can find somewhere there."

The draenei remains silent, the only sound that of a soft wind, gold and black hair blowing in its breath. Shahra knows he wants her to stay, wants her to fight. But she can't. She isn't a warrior. She isn't a hero. And although Outland is the land of her birth, it isn't her home. If she is to have one, she wants it to be on Azeroth. She wants to see what she has only glimpsed, to discover what her memories showed her for herself. And while her heart is torn as she watches Ardelan walk down the Stair of Destiny, her chest heaving as he takes his elekk along the Path of Glory, she stands firm. This is her decision. And she'll stand by it.

The quel'dorei turns to face the twisting, pulsing gateway that links this world with Azeroth. It is just like it was in her dreams, only the feeling is far more real. Yet for all the unease this brings her, comfort comes from this feeling as well. She knows that this is the real deal, that she, not some other individual is experiencing it. And in the knowledge that there is no much more to experience on the other side, she prepares to follow in the footsteps of the Horde and make the journey.

Kael...you were wrong, Shahra thinks to herself, fingering A'dal's medallion with one hand while adjusting her satchel and sword with the other. I may have no past. I may have no future. I may even only have a year to live. But that does not mean it is not my own. It's my life. And whether it be high elf or blood elf, quel'dorei or sin'dorei, I will live it. You can't take that from me. I've found a reason to live, and nothing you or anyone can do will change that.

And with that, not to mention a deep breath, she steps through. She makes the first step.

And as Azeroth looms, a journey of both distance and discovery awaits her.

A/N

So...after three years, one of which was effectively a hiatus, a story I began back in secondary has been completed during uni. So er...yay?

Actually had the "wow moment" when I actually finished writing the epilogue, so posting it is kind of a formality. So I'll spare you a self-absorbed ramble and simply leave it that I'm happy to have finally finished the story and admittedly a bit proud, but I won't shove that in. However, there are two sets of notes I'm inclined to post before bringing the story to a complete close, the first of which is Shahra's survival at the story's end. Reading the reviews for the last chapter, it seemed that different views on her apparent death existed. Indeed, when I was outlining this fic years back, whether to have her alive by the end of the story was the hardest decision I had to make. Kind of paraprhasing reviews over the years, but it can be irritating when an author becomes so attatched to his/her characters that they can't kill them off, but also when they do so for the sake of drama.

The reason I ended up on leaving Shahra alive is twofold. Firstly, I felt that her dying at Kael's hands would turn her into a 'micro-martyr,' the "good" high elf dying a heroic death at the hands of an "evil" blood elf. In the context of the Scryers and Leo's friendship with Gazgul, put in as mechanisms to throw Shahra's prejudices back at her, I felt that Kael killing her would in a sense vindicate those prejudices. In the end, it's down to the individual-who rather than what. A cliche theme, and one that I know has been used countless times before, but one I enjoyed using.

The second reason, the reason why I didn't change the drafted ending when I actually wrote it, was something I remembered in an interview of J.K. Rowling in regards to why she didn't kill off Harry at the end of Deathly Hallows. I forget the exact wording, but the essence of her answer was that dying would have been the easy way out. After adversity and trauma, it's the ability to live after such events that defines you, the meaning of life being found in life itself rather than death. May have warped the answer a bit there, but I felt that living would make a more interesting ending for her in the timeframe she has left rather than taking the simple road of popping a character off.

Does that mean I have sequels planned? In a word, no. I do have two other Warcraft fics ready to write-Providence, which is a take on the Scryers' defection to Shattrath and the creation of the first blood knights and Reign of Chaos: Exodus of the Horde, a story that, as its name suggests, is a novelization of the Horde mini-campaign in Reign of Chaos. Some characters from this actually appear in them, but I'm reluctant to create stories around characters for the sake of it. I'd rather use them as means rather than an end. Either way, my current writing focus right now is on a Halo fic (Shadows of Hope), so don't expect to see these for quite awhile...

So yeah, big-headed moment over. Many thanks to everyone who reviewed. Hope three years of writing was worth it. :)

(So much for sparing you a self-absorbed ramble...)