Mori felt it, the rapid descent of the temperature of the air around her. Tiny snowflakes fell on her nose and settled on the window sill as the climate in the room grew icy. A chilling breeze swept through her hair and around the body of the death knight. Mori followed its path and her eyes settled upon rings of frost forming around the man’s head and hands. He lay on the bed perfectly still, save for a slight twitch of the finger the young blood elf was certain she did not imagine.
“Sahtra!” She stood up immediately and placed her hands on the bed beside the death knight. “Sahtra, are you awake?” Mori anxiously stared at his face, waiting for a response, but the death knight gave none. The young blood elf peered around the room, noticing the large ice crystals embedded into the window and the glass of water next to Sahtra’s bed that had frozen over, cracking its container with it.
“SAHTRA! WHAT’S HAPPENING?”
A deep shiver went down Mori’s spine as cold air entered her lungs. She wouldn’t be able to last much longer at these temperatures, where a human would have easily succumbed to frostbite. The young blood elf noticed in horror as frost began forming on her skin and the scales of the baby cloud serpent and ran out of Sahtra’s room as quickly as she could. Icy veins branched out from Sahtra’s body and traveled through the room in all directions, creating a network of frost that resembled the long, thin legs of a spider.
Mori leaned back against the wall in the hallway, taking several deep breaths of warmer air to regulate her internal temperature. She looked worriedly at Sindi but sighed in relief as she saw the cloud serpent had recovered as well. I don’t know what’s going on, the child thought to herself, but it’s Vel’rosh’s fault. He started all of this! In a mixture of anger and panic, Mori frantically searched room after room for signs of the orc paladin. He would have to answer for his actions.
* * * * *
In his room at the inn, Vel’rosh paced back and forth wearily. He had not gotten a moment’s sleep the entire night, and his brown eyes were bloodshot. I have failed, he told himself, I failed the Light. I let my bloodlust overcome me, and I nearly killed a man for it. Vel’rosh had prayed to the Light for guidance upon returning to the village, but as the hours passed, he felt less and less of its holy guidance in his heart. He stopped pacing immediately as he heard the young blood elf’s voice calling, shouting for him, rather, and walked quickly to the entrance to his room.
“Mori! I,” he paused, feeling the wrath of the child’s burning green eyes, “I wish to speak to you.”
The young blood elf marched up to the orc and looked fiercely into his eyes.
“Something is wrong with Sahtra,” she spoke angrily, her fists clenched tightly, “and I don’t know what it is! But if YOU hadn’t started that fight,” Vel’rosh heard Mori’s voice crack as she struggled to keep her composure, “THIS WOULDN’T BE HAPPENING!”
The paladin looked down at the warlock, his face twisted with worry. “Maybe I could heal him—” Vel’rosh paused, wondering if the Light would do the death knight any good in his current condition, whatever it was. The orc felt obligated to do something, however, and offered, “I should go check up on him, then. I want to apologize.”
Mori frowned, planting herself firmly in the middle of the hallway and holding her arms out on both sides so Vel’rosh could not pass. The baby cloud serpent hovered behind her. The orc stepped up to the young blood elf, his face lined with shame.
“Give me a chance,” he pleaded, “there is something I wish to say to the death knight.”
“I don’t trust you!” Mori exclaimed, but her strength was no match for that of the orc. I must do this, Vel’rosh told himself, and easily pushed the child aside. He strode anxiously down the hallway to the death knight’s room and stood by his bed. The orc looked down at Sahtra’s frosty complexion and saw small pieces of ice nested in his hair, eyebrows, and beard. The paladin held his green hand out over the death knight’s body but recoiled from the icy breeze emanating from it.
“By the Light,” Vel’rosh spoke with regret, “what have I done to this man?” He did not want to admit it out loud to the child, but he truly doubted the death knight would survive in a state this frigid.
He looked down at Mori, who was standing beside him, her eyes wide with fear. She returned his gaze. “Leave him!” she cried out, and burst into tears as she watched the orc leave the room and continue walking. Vel’rosh angrily muttered to himself, and the young blood elf heard him shuffle out the hallway and out the main entrance to the inn. Mori continued sobbing as she held onto Sindi and stroked the serpent’s blue scales.
* * * * *
The holy power flees, the death knight allowed a smirk to escape as he thought to himself, it is time.
Sahtra opened his eyes and found himself looking at the child’s back. He reached out and gently placed his left hand on her shoulder. Mori immediately turned around in shock at the icy touch of the death knight and frantically reached for his gloved hand. She held it tightly with her small fingers, and Sahtra could see the tears streaming down her cheeks. The young blood elf opened her mouth to speak, but the death knight lifted his other hand and put his finger to his lips.
“Which way did the orc go, my child?” Sahtra whispered with a grin on his face, “He and I must have a chat.”
Mori struggled to keep calm. She was more than overjoyed at seeing him awake, and it appeared he was doing quite well. Attempting to hold back her sobs, she took one of her hands off Sahtra’s and pointed in the direction that she had last seen Vel’rosh.
The death knight nodded in response. Taking his right thumb, he wiped away the tears on the young blood elf’s cheeks and smiled warmly. Mori could feel the temperature rising once again as the frost melted and subsequently evaporated away. Sahtra gently removed his hand from Mori’s grasp and stood up. The death knight placed his axe upon his back, winked at the young blood elf, and faded out of sight.
Mori stood there with her mouth gaping. She could not believe it! Sahtra had disappeared before her very eyes. Where could he have gone to? The child snapped out of her stupor and hurried out to the front of the inn. No one was there. She ran to the back of the inn and could find neither the death knight nor the paladin. Discouraged, she slowly walked back to her own room, and her cloud serpent followed.
* * * * *
Vel’rosh felt an unnatural chill travel down his spine as the warm air around him immediately grew cold. Frost formed around him despite the heat of the sun bearing down on him.
“If you wish to show yourself,” he growled, “do it now!”
“You know, orc,” Sahtra’s voice and figure shimmered in front of the paladin, “I owe you a beating.” A smile spread across the death knight’s face. “I was weakened while attempting to save the party from the Mogu, then the vrykul and that dammed fox had to intervene.” He let out a chuckle that echoed throughout the orc’s mind.
“Sahtra! I—” Vel’rosh struggled to find the words to express himself. “I…I am so sorry for what I did! My bloodlust, it…IT TOOK OVER ME!” The paladin’s blood boiled from anger and disappointment he felt in himself. “I wish to apologize for my—”
The orc stopped and stared at Sahtra, who still bore a smug grin.
“You still wish to fight?” Vel’rosh asked, suddenly realizing the meaning of the death knight’s words. I owe you a beating, he had said. The human laughed loudly at the orc’s surprise.
“We are not so different, you and I,” Sahtra spoke as he approached the paladin. “The only difference between us is that I,” he gestured proudly to himself, “am not a slave to my powers. They are my greatest allies. No code, no restrictions.”
How dare the death knight claim we are similar? Vel’rosh grunted. This is preposterous! And yet, his words rang true. The orc had always bound himself to the Light, yet his powers were waning. The Light would punish those who had broken its code, and the paladin felt its judgement upon him.
“What are you saying?” Vel’rosh stood upright and looked the human in the eyes.
“I am saying you are strong,” answered Sahtra, “but the Light is weak, and it is holding you back from your full potential. Let your bloodlust take over. Seek out glory in battles once again and use your power how YOU see fit, not the way some beam of holy energy does.” The death knight leaned into the orc and spoke calmly. “The powers of undeath do not inherently make one…evil, but my goals and ambitions are vastly different from those of the living.”
The orc stood in defiance, unwilling to accept the death knight’s words as truth. He had to call upon the Light, it was his duty as a paladin, and keep the oath that he had sworn.
“The Light will…” Vel’rosh began, and struggled to continue. He drew on the power of the Light with all his strength, but he could not find it. In his frustration, the orc let his bloodlust take over, and cried out, “I WILL SMITE YOU!”
“I will do you an…immense favor,” spoke Sahtra, and disappeared as the paladin attempted to strike at him with his great sword. When the death knight reappeared behind him, Vel’rosh felt the chill of the axe closing in on his exposed spine.
“But, master, I do not know how to control myself! Long have my people suffered from bloodlust at the hands of those who command the Burning Legion!”
“It is not too late for you, young orc,” the human replied, his smooth voice reassuring the one who had appeared at his chapel, “the Light shows compassion to all.”
The orc looked up at his teacher. “I will do my best, master. I swear, I will never again fall to my bloodlust, and may the Holy Light smite me if I do!”
“Damn you, death knight!” Vel’rosh lifted his sword to strike, but it fell from his hands as he burned with shame. He had failed to keep his word, he had failed the Light, and now he would pay the price.
Sahtra smiled widely, baring his teeth.
“On your knees, orc,” he demanded, and the other had no choice but to obey. “As much as I despise your kind, paladin, and would rather make your soul suffer for eternity, I am going to give you another chance. I will free you from the chains and lies that have bound you to the falsehood of the Light. In its stead, I will grant you the ability to see the world as we death knights see it, the true world. You fight the shadow with the Light, yet the Light can be corrupted. With the power of undeath, you cannot fall prey to its deceit.”
Sahtra raised the cursed axe above the paladin’s head. “Now,” he whispered into his ear, “be free.” He brought the pointed tip of Shin’ka swiftly through the orc’s throat, granting him an instant and clean death. The corpse belonging to Vel’rosh fell with a hard thud onto the earth, the scar on his throat now black. The death knight smiled at his kill as he sheathed his axe.
“Sahtra,” the slow, deep voice commanded, “step forth.”
“My Lord Arthas,” the death knight spoke as he stepped towards the Lich King and knelt before him, “what would you have me do?”
“Stand.” The death knight obeyed. “You are one of my greatest generals on the battlefield and one of the few who served me willingly. It appears that you truly understand my plight and those I fight against.” His subject inclined his head. “I have decided, therefore, to grant you a portion of my power, so that you may use it as you see fit.”
The death knight stood in shock. “Surely, I do not deserve this honor from the one I serve!”
The Lich King laughed, his voice echoing through the hall. “My time is near,” he warned, “and no king rules forever. Now, come here, Sahtra, and receive your gift.”
The death knight looked down at the corpse. “Arthas granted me this power personally,” he spoke to it, “not just to raise undead and ghouls, but to create death knights such as myself.”
Sahtra held out his hand, and any regular observer would have noticed that his entire arm had disappeared.
“Now,” he proclaimed, “I shall reach into the shadowlands, take your soul, and force it back into your body.” The death knight’s arm reappeared, held in it a vibrant glowing aura of energy. He placed the soul of the orc over his corpse and stood back as a runic circle formed on the ground underneath him. Sahtra held out his arms, chanting in the ancient tongue, and the orc’s corpse began to float in the air. Unholy magic circled his body, and the soul hovering near it began to writhe in agony as any of the Light left in it forced itself out. The human raised his arms and brought them together, merging the body and soul into one.
“NOW, VEL’ROSH OF THE WARSONG CLAN,” called out Sahtra, “FALL, A PALADIN, AND ARISE, AN UNHOLY DEATH KNIGHT!”
Sahtra held his hand in front of his face as a blinding light shot out from the reanimated orc’s body. Vel’rosh, born anew, roared as he felt great power surge through him. He felt nothing, save for deep anger and a lust for power. He let out a great laugh, his voice now raspy and echoing with deep undertones.
“You have done me a great service indeed, fellow death knight!” Vel’rosh proclaimed, “I feel the raw, uninhibited power flow through me!” He held out his hands and roared once again, celebrating the destruction of the chains that had bound him in life. A grin spread across his lips, and the orc opened his eyes, now glowing brightly with green flame.
Sahtra smiled. “My work here is done,” he declared, “do with your power as you wish. Good, evil, it does not matter. You are now free.” He disappeared once again into the shadow realm.
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