The stars twinkled in the sky while newly formed frost glistened in the moonlight in the mountains surrounding Boralus. It was a calm night for a change–a good break from the storms that had been pounding the city the previous week. Although the mountain trails were good for restoring one’s spirits, most of the populace was in bed at this late hour, or perhaps nursing one last cup of coco before turning in. All except one restless member of the Alliance forces, that is.
Though he did not require sleep, Morician had often found it useful to rest his mind, in addition to passing the time. Sleep, however, was absent tonight as echoes of the past stirred in the depths of his soul. So much had happened in a year’s time, and though the new year typically brought with it the promise of new beginnings it felt as though a great weight rested on his heart. Seeking some solace, the death knight had slipped away to the high mountain meadows, hoping the fresh air would put his mind at ease. The sweet scent of alpine flowers and evergreen and the babbling of a nearby stream did little to stem the disquiet gnawing at him.
Morician heaved a sigh, trudging over to a large rock by a pooling portion of the stream and sitting down, resting his head in his hands for a moment before looking down at his reflection. A wry grin tugged at the corner of his mouth–the figure staring back at him from the water was better suited to his childhood dreams, rather than truly representative of his current condition. Gleaming white-gold armor accentuated with a rich blue cloak protected his body while a grand greatsword rested in a sheath on his back. Completing the ensemble was an ornate armored circlet–the socketed dawnlight gems within glowing with a soft golden light in contrast to the harsh blue of his eyes. This was the attire of a paladin, not a death knight like himself. Picking up a nearby stone, he tossed it into the pool in frustration, letting the ripples disturb the reflection.
By all rights, he should have been dead by now, several times over. He had been lucky enough to survive the first assault on the Broken Shore with minor injuries, only to wish for death later after witnessing the Legion’s destruction of his home in Westfall, and again as he was forced to abandon his last remaining sanctuary with the Ebon Blade’s renewed servitude to the Lich King. The wish had very nearly been fulfilled by two vengeful Argent crusaders, if not for the intervention of his old paladin mentor, that is.
Lysander Stavros… Morician smiled sadly and shook his head, tossing another stone into the pool. The man had certainly practiced what he preached, acting as a ray of light and hope in a very dark place. It was Stavros who had inspired him to become a paladin in the first place so many years ago…and encouraged him again to uphold the paladin’s creed in spite of the horrible trials he had faced. And it was Stavros who died in your stead at Lordaeron…
The smile faded as the memory resurfaced. Morician squeezed his eyes shut, bowing his head in silent prayer. He had witnessed many kinds of death in battle, but few were as horrible as those he had seen at Lordaeron. The fact that the acts were carried out by the living on behalf of Sylvanas made it that much worse. He had tried to put an end to some of it, attempting to slay a wicked leader of a sect of blood knights and nearly paying for it with his life instead. Only by Stavros’s sacrifice had he managed to survive–a fact that his bleached mane served to remind him of daily.
And yet…there was a semblence of peace with that knowledge. While he still wasn’t sure what the old paladin saw in him, clearly Stavros had believed in him enough to allow him a second–nay, a third–lease on life. After such generosity, the least he himself could do was attempt to follow in his mentor’s footsteps.
Morician opened his eyes, feeling more at peace with this revelation as he studied his reflection once more. Perhaps it represented him better than he originally thought.
((Woo, first real piece of writing for the New Year! A bit rough, perhaps, but it’s hard to fully compress a full year or two into one short story. Thought I would also include a link at the end to some music I found fitting for the background))