Pix’s Note (EDIT): My paladin partner in crime (Esmerellda) actually brings up a good point that I needed to clarify: this is a conclusion, and it isn’t. It’s a conclusion of the story in the sense that this is where Malyss’ telling ends it. The story doesn’t end here, but it will continue in a different perspective.
I saw my sister so clearly in the midst of that battle, though I’m still not sure if it was because of my hatred for her, or if it was because her white hair was easy to pick out in the crowd. My anger pulled me closer to her like a lodestone to a steel blade, my sword swinging in great arcs, cutting down ally and foe alike in my need to reach her. I screamed her name and she turned to face me, her expression shifting from confusion to recognition… surprise to a happy smile… and just as quickly replaced by sorrow and pity as she understood what I had become.
How dare she pity me for the powers I had gained. How dare she pity me, after the torments I faced because she failed to keep her promise! My rage took over then, and I threw myself at her, runeblade leading the way. Scant seconds later, I realized that I had erred.
My sister was powerful.
She was no longer the young, inexperienced Warrior I remembered on the front lines of the battle of the Exodar. She was strong, confident, skilled, and very in control of the rage that she tapped into in order to fight. She was too good; my attacks were parried, or worse, used to lead me into disadvantage. My spells were ineffective.
He lied to me.
The realization came to me as a shock as my runeblade whistled toward my sister’s midsection. She moved just out of reach of the blade and spun, too fast for me to follow right away, her axe swinging toward my head. I turned my gaze toward it, ready to face my fate and die at her hand, when the haft of her axe behind the axehead struck my skull and dropped me to the ground, my runeblade flying well out of reach.
I struggled to rise, turning my head so that I could offer a final defiance to my sister before she ended my existence, only to realize that she was only keeping me in her peripheral vision. Her gaze was fixed elsewhere. Warily, I shifted my position so I could see what was happening, noticing that the battle was ending and both sides had stopped fighting. Had we lost?
No… He had arrived on the battlefield. I saw Him in the distance, standing near Darion Mograine and a Paladin I didn’t recognize. I saw Him raise Frostmourne, and my dead heart rejoiced as I was about to witness the blade’s ability to steal the souls of the living. My eyes were wide at the beauty of that cold steel, with His frozen soul powering the blade, and I knew that the Paladin would die.
Frostmourne came down, and was rebuffed by a sword of blazing light. No, rebuffed is wrong; repelled is a truer word. There was a great flash of light, and I saw Him get thrown from this Paladin by the blast as though he were a rag doll, casually discarded by a child. He was driven away, back to the safety of Icecrown, and before I knew it, Mograine had a new task for us.
The Paladin, Tirion, gave us amnesty. The battle at Light’s Hope was done, and we had lost. Mograine’s task was for each of us to carry a missive to the Horde or Alliance capitals and pledge our service to them, and in return, they would help us take revenge on Him… on Arthas.
My sister reached out to me, offering her hand to help me up from the ground. I took it, looking into her eyes as a single tear ran down her cheek. Nodding to her as thanks, I knew that this was not the time for emotion – it was the time for action.
Lelissa’s guild took me in with open arms… but you knew that already, didn’t you? I took that opportunity to grow stronger, to improve my skills, and to seek out ensorcelled weapons and armor that would make me even more powerful.
Lelissa made sure that I felt welcome. At home. She even introduced me to her friends… and you. Everyone was so eager to make me a part of the “family,” but nobody really stopped to wonder what my true intentions were. All the while, I put on a fake smile, pretended at friendships, and even played at love. I even managed to fool you into thinking that I enjoyed your company. My sister’s faith and belief in you is obviously misplaced.
To think that you are her best friend… or is there something more between you?
I won’t apologize for the chains. Or the bruises. Or the cold, really, since I know it’s difficult to stay warm in that shift – I just couldn’t risk you having access to your armor and weapons. I’d say you should thank me for letting you live, but since you’re about to watch Lelissa die at my hand, I doubt that you’ll hold that sentiment long. In fact, I believe that’s her now… our race isn’t exactly gifted with stealth.
So here we are at the bitter end. You should use whatever faith you may have left and pray that my sister is victorious, dear Esmerellda… I’m sure that freezing to death would be most disagreeable.