Chapter 1: The Madness of Telavani Lovewood
There are moments in life that feel off, like a chair with one leg shorter than the rest. You think it’s just a little imbalance, a harmless quirk, until you realize it’s been purposefully altered, and the one responsible is smiling at you from across the room. Telavani Lovewood is that imbalance. She’s the one smiling—wild-eyed, dressed in mismatched silks that defy logic, and always a little too aware of things no one else can see.
“The priest of Elune, our people are doomed, but our forces allied we’ll grow in bloom. Not too late, but not too soon.” Telavani’s voice rang out in the grand dining hall of Silvermoon, serving tea as though it were some grand act of defiance. To her, it probably was.
She poured the steaming liquid with a flourish, each movement an artful dance between elegance and madness, her eyes flitting between Kael’Thas and his father, the King. They were nobles, commanders, rulers—important people who should have known better than to trust tea brewed by a shadow priest with a penchant for mischief. But trust her they did, and Telavani, ever the devout servant of Elune’s more playful side, was happy to entertain.
“You were ordered not to speak unless spoken to, priest!” King Anasterian Sunstrider snapped, his authority undercut by the way his cup clinked against its saucer. A sound too small to matter—unless you were Telavani, who heard significance in every little noise.
The prince, Kael’Thas, merely chuckled, savoring his tea with a slight smirk. “I like her riddles, father. They make dinner more entertaining. And the tea is exquisite.”
Telavani bowed, her smile as crooked as the universe she saw beyond the veil. “Thank you, my royal upstarts. I have learned to see and hear, light and shadow all so clear, but truth comes out in riddles that are safe enough to share.” She spoke as if reading a script only she could see, one that included everyone in the room, including you, dear reader. Yes, you. You’re part of this now.
Why Should You Care?
Because Telavani knows. She knows things that should have stayed forgotten, whispers of gods and shadows, and the kind of secrets that can unravel a kingdom. She’s not just a mad priest. She’s the glitch in the system, the splinter in the mind of Silvermoon, and if you listen closely, you’ll realize she’s trying to tell you something important. The real question is: will you believe her?
Telavani is the embodiment of what lies in the gap between faith and madness, between light and shadow, and she’s inviting you to join her for tea. So, drink up, pay attention, and whatever you do—don’t trust the tea.
There are those who stand on the edge of reason and those who leap off it, laughing all the way down. Telavani Lovewood doesn’t just leap—she dances in midair, spinning through the madness with a teacup in one hand and a pocketful of riddles in the other. To her, life is a game, and the rules are just suggestions. She sees the world differently, maybe even more clearly, and that’s precisely why she’s dangerous.
“Lost One, is that you?” Telavani’s voice drips with an unsettling sweetness, her gaze shifting to a place no one else dares to look. “You’re here, aren’t you? Watching, waiting, pretending you’re not part of this. But you are. Oh, yes, you are.” She tilts her head, eyes gleaming like shattered glass, as if she can see right through the page to where you sit, foolishly reading. “You’re as mad as I am for staying this long. Tell me, will you help them, or just watch them burn? Shall we make a game of it?”
Anasterian Sunstrider, King of the high elves, glares at her, though he doesn’t quite meet her eyes. Perhaps he knows better. “This is why high elves don’t worship that damned night elf goddess; it kills them, turns them against their own, or whatever the hell happened to her.” He says it like a lament, but Telavani hears the underlying dread.
“Yet we’ve always listened to their counselors,” Kael’Thas interjects, his tone thoughtful. “They haven’t led us wrong before. I find them more trustworthy than our human neighbors, though I haven’t seen any in the city for a while now.”
The King chuckles darkly, sipping his tea. “There are few of us dying from the plague that litters our lands, but that’s nothing compared to the humans. By the time the plague passes, we might be able to get the humans to surrender their lands, thanks to that little concoction that mage brewed up.”
“Don’t remind me, father. I know that Silvermoon has been richer than it’s ever been, but if they ever find out the truth about—” Kael’Thas starts, but his father cuts him off.
“And they won’t!” Anasterian snaps, slamming his cup down. “Even if they do, there won’t be many of them left. Humans are lesser, and we have something they all want. Soon, they will all be slaves to us or themselves.” The King finishes his tea with a satisfied sigh. “You’re right though, this tea is exquisite—totally worth the ramblings of a mad priest.” He places his cup down with a finality that suggests the end of a conversation, not just a meal. “And it’s put me right out. I will see you tomorrow morning, my son.”
As he rises to leave, Kael’Thas mutters under his breath, “The world is never as mad as it could be, father.”
Anasterian stops, turning his head with a glare. He glances from Kael’Thas to Telavani, his expression wavering between amusement and exasperation. “I like her, Kael’Thas, and I don’t want to get rid of her, but you can’t let the things she says get into your head. Good night.” He strides out of the hall, leaving the Prince alone with his most unpredictable guest.
Kael’Thas watches his father leave, then turns to Telavani. “Telavani, could you join me for a little more tea? And do try to speak normally.” He gestures towards a chair beside him, but Telavani, of course, does nothing the normal way.
She leaps onto the table, her skirts flaring like a burst of color amidst the fine porcelain and silver. With a graceful twirl, she lands in the chair next to him, pouring herself another cup of tea and refilling Kael’Thas’s with a flourish. “What was it that you wanted to speak about, my dear prince?”
Kael’Thas shifts uncomfortably, feeling as though his very presence is being dissected by her manic gaze. “I’m not sure.” The words feel inadequate, and Telavani’s grin widens as though she can see his discomfort as clearly as the tea leaves swirling in her cup.
“Then it doesn’t matter what is spoken, only what is enjoyed.” Telavani’s voice is sweet but edged with something sharp, like a blade hidden in sugar. “Life is short, and tea is inundate. Now we have more tea than life.” She clinks her cup against his, eyes flicking to the side as though she’s sharing a private joke with someone only she can see.
Kael’Thas tries to follow her meaning but finds himself lost in the maze of her words. “We have lots of tea, and we’re high elves. We usually have lives longer than tea supplies.”
Telavani’s laughter is like a chorus of bells, bright and discordant. “Speaking in rhymes, are you? Maybe there is hope for you yet. But you don’t know when you’re going to die, do you? It’s soon. I too.” She sips her tea, her eyes never leaving his, and Kael’Thas feels a chill that has nothing to do with the drafty hall.
Kael’Thas’s patience snaps. He grabs Telavani by the neck, slamming her and the chair to the floor. “That sounded a lot like a threat. You’re an assassin, then? Sent to kill me? A knife while I sleep, or an army waiting outside?”
Telavani gasps for breath, her smile never faltering even as her lips turn blue. “The priest of Elune, our people are doomed, but our forces allied—”
Kael’Thas shakes her by the neck, fury in his eyes. “You said that already. Do you really want those to be your last words?”
Telavani giggles, reaching for a teacup. She pours the scalding hot tea over her face, choking as she laughs, her skin burning. She lets the cup fall, and as her body goes limp, Kael’Thas roars, hurling her against the wall. She gasps, coughing, but still smiling. “Father would be unhappy if his tea brewer were missing or dead, and I don’t want to kill someone so beautiful,” Kael’Thas mutters, trying to compose himself.
Telavani breathes raggedly, her smile widening into something grotesque. “Of course I’m beautiful. No one would tolerate me if I wasn’t. I’d be dead or in prison, but the goddess Elune protects me from certain advances.” Telavani claps her hands twice, still sprawled on the floor, her eyes fixed on Kael’Thas with a playful malice. “Look this way, not like me—at me.”
She snaps her fingers, levitating herself and the chair back to an upright position as if the entire ordeal were merely part of the show. She leans sideways, crossing her legs, and looks back at Kael’Thas with an unsettling calm. “You know, my prince, we are all mad here, but some of us have a front-row seat to the chaos.”
Kael’Thas, caught between frustration and fascination, crosses his arms. “I know you have these predictions sometimes, but are they always true?”
Telavani’s eyes glitter as she leans closer, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “What’s true? What’s false? It’s all a game, you see. The truth is like a shadow—always dancing, always changing. But here’s the fun part: you never know which shadow will come for you until it’s too late.”
And as she laughs, the room feels smaller, the walls closing in, and for a moment, Kael’Thas wonders if they’re all just pieces on a board in a game that Telavani is secretly winning.
Kael’Thas studied Telavani, truly taking her in for the first time. Her clothes clung to her like shadows—a thin white linen that hooked on her arms and pelvic areas, flowing behind her as if trailing after unseen specters. A golden choker, inlaid with purple gems, held up her shimmering golden, white, and bronze top, barely veiling her form. A white and yellow hood covered most of her head, but her black curls spilled out rebelliously, framing her blue, glowing eyes that pierced through the room like the coldest stars. The way she moved, the way she smiled—it was like looking at a beautiful portrait that was slightly askew, everything in place but just… wrong. Exposed skin everywhere, as if daring the world to challenge her. “I was beginning to wonder about that,” Kael’Thas muttered, almost to himself. “How you can walk around the streets dressed like that.”
Telavani rolled her eyes, a mocking sigh escaping her lips. “There’s more to being a grownup than boobies and alcohol, my Prince. The goddess does protect her own, even one from the shadows… even one like me.” Her voice wavered between coy and sinister, never quite settling, like she was teetering on the edge of a revelation—or a breakdown.
Kael’Thas crossed his arms defensively. He could never quite get a handle on her, and that infuriated him. “You have these predictions sometimes, but are they always true?”
“I mean what I say, you might try it occasionally,” Telavani replied, her tone dripping with condescension and a dash of madness. “But no, they’re not always true. Once, I told my father his next lucky break would bring wealth, but it brought his neck to the floor instead. I saw my brother’s death a hundred times in my dreams, but he’s too slippery; Death can’t catch him, though I wish he’d listen. I miss him so… so I don’t usually say.” Her eyes clouded over, and for a brief moment, the manic smile faded, revealing something raw beneath the surface.
“Why is that?” Kael’Thas asked, his curiosity tinged with frustration.
Before he could blink, Telavani vanished from the chair and reappeared, sprawled languidly across the dining table as if it were her personal throne. She poured herself another cup of tea, holding it like it was a lifeline. “She who saves a single soul, saves the world, but what I see never actually was, always to be,” she murmured, her voice soft, yet sharp. “No one will ever see what I see, nor will they ever. Life is the present, the one gift I’m short of compared to most. But you, my dear Prince, you’re going to kill me. That way, you can listen… and then not listen.”
Kael’Thas frowned, leaning in, trying to decipher the layers of her madness. ‘She who saves a single soul saves the world’—was she talking about him? he wondered. “You see the future,” he concluded aloud, though he wasn’t sure if he was reassuring her or himself. “But why would I kill you?”
Telavani took a butter knife from the table, not the sharpest tool but keen enough. She slithered off the table, grabbed Kael’Thas’s hand, and forced the knife into his grip, pressing the blade against her throat. “Bravery and I are not on intimate terms,” she whispered, almost seductively, eyes fluttering as she pushed harder, her skin turning red against the metal. “Thus, I’ve lived long. My visions, whether truth or madness, cannot be ignored, so I speak without regard for consequence. Your courage deserves no less. You have suffered, yes, and caused suffering, but what comes next will test you in ways you cannot imagine. Kael’Thas Sunstrider, there is worse to come. You and this kingdom cannot both survive. So take my life, dear Prince, so that I do not lead you into the abyss.”
Kael’Thas’s heart pounded as he felt the cold blade trembling between them. All it would take was one tiny flick, and her ramblings would end. But her eyes… they were pleading, begging for something beyond death. “What would killing you solve? I can heed your warning without taking your life,” he replied, his voice almost desperate.
Telavani’s gaze drifted, seeing things that weren’t there—or perhaps things only she could see. “A Lost One, greater than gods in our world but less than men in their own,” she began, tears welling up as if every word was cutting her from the inside. “He will save your life ten times over and lead your armies to victory. Even now, they watch over us, these players in the dark, but one threatens to take my body for his own entertainment.” She looked utterly defeated, collapsing into Kael’Thas’s arms, her tears like burning acid on his skin. “I can’t see the end of the tunnel. No man loves me; no children will bear my name. Only war, loneliness, and shadow. I see no light at the end.” She pressed her lips close to his, inches away from a kiss that would never happen. “Please, the goddess will not accept me if I take my own life. So, please, my Prince, take my warning… and my life.”
Kael’Thas’s grip tightened on the knife, his mind spinning in a thousand directions, torn between duty, fear, and something he dared not name. But as he looked into her eyes—wild, desperate, and oddly sincere—he realized she didn’t need saving. She needed release. From her madness, her visions, and perhaps… from the Lost Ones.
The world around them felt like a collapsing stage, each breath heavier than the last. Kael’Thas pulled the knife away, but the tension didn’t break. “No,” he said finally, shaking his head as if to clear away cobwebs of doubt. “No, Telavani. I won’t kill you, but I can’t promise I’ll listen either.”
Telavani laughed—a sound like shattered glass tinkling on stone. “Then we are both fools, Kael’Thas. But the game goes on, doesn’t it?” She pulled herself away, her fingers dancing over the table, rearranging the cups as if setting a board for a game only she knew the rules to. “The Lost Ones are watching. The pieces are moving. But the end? Oh, the end is the best part. And you, my dear, are not ready for it.”
She raised her teacup in a mocking toast to the empty air, to the Lost Ones, to whatever madness lay between the lines. And as she drank, she met Kael’Thas’s gaze one last time, eyes gleaming with secrets she would never share. “I hope you enjoy the show.”
Kael’Thas shoved Telavani away, tearing the knife from her grip and forcing her back against the table. He began pacing, his agitation growing with each passing second. “YOU!” he bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “YOU’RE MAD! YOU’RE CRAZY! I should kill you now, but I won’t. Not yet. If there’s any truth to your ramblings, I might still need you.”
Telavani’s smile was wide, but her eyes were hollow. She jumped onto the table, moving with an eerie grace, as if every surface were her personal stage. She strolled back and forth, head held high like a queen without a crown. “Heavy is the burden of the wise when no one understands a word we say,” she mused, her voice a soft lament filled with ancient sorrow. Then, without warning, she burst into laughter—a sound that was both joyous and heart-wrenchingly sad. Tears streaked down her cheeks, though her grin never wavered. “Mad shadow priests never bothered anyone, but nobody believes me. Why should they? Oh, how is a sparrow like a writing desk?”
“Get down from there!” Kael’Thas snapped, his patience fraying. “You and I are not the same. Why should I believe anything you say? And why not take this madness to my father?”
Telavani’s laughter subsided into a soft giggle. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, smudging her makeup into streaks of war paint. When she turned back to face Kael’Thas, her eyes gleamed with unhinged delight. “BeCaUsE, my sweet little prince, you’re a scrumptious young plaything fresh out of life and into high elf royalty! You smell of watermelon dew on a freshly cut pineapple tree—so ripe, so sweet. Am I frightening you, little prince?”
Kael’Thas crossed his arms tightly, a vain attempt to shield himself from her intoxicating presence. “No,” he said, though his voice wavered. “But I should put you in a cell.”
Telavani tugged off her hood, letting her wild curls spill over her shoulders. Her hair framed her face like a twisted halo, highlighting the manic fire in her eyes. “The law is just a whisper away,” she sang, her voice lilting with childish glee. “A way home to wonder, wonder who, who knows how to measure rules? WITH A RULER! Cruel rules, terrible rules! The Light shows what’s truly there, but oh, the shadows—they tell secrets. The more shadows you have, the less you see. But the more you stare into the shadows, the more you see what others cannot, or dare not. So leave this bit of chaos with a certifiable giggle! You must greet the sun before his lovely daughter moon. You can’t forsake the journey for the safety of your room.”
“I know—” Kael’Thas tried to interject, but Telavani vanished before his eyes, reappearing inches from his face, bent low on the table as if she had always been there. She tapped his nose playfully, her touch as light as a feather.
“Which is right and wrong, if right is right is left wrong, or is it what’s left?” she asked, her tone maddeningly sweet.
Kael’Thas stumbled back, fighting the urge to smile at her nonsensical riddles. “I was going to say—”
“Your prayers,” Telavani cut in, her voice lowering to a whisper that sent shivers down his spine. “You only pray for those who cannot pray for themselves. But tell me, Kael’Thas, do you ever pray for yourself?”
The words cut deeper than any spell, striking at a part of Kael’Thas that he did not even realize was vulnerable. His head throbbed with a sudden, sharp pain. Was it her words? Or something darker, clawing at his mind? “Don’t interrupt me, I can’t—”
“Go to the outhouse?” Telavani interrupted with a giggle, her eyes alight with mischievous delight.
Kael’Thas’s temper flared. “MAD WOMAN!”
Telavani straightened, placing her hands on her hips in a mock display of defiance. “Yes, you are! But what am I?” she shot back, a wild grin spreading across her face.
Kael’Thas charged a fireball, its heat pulsating in his hands. “I’ll give you—”
“A present? You shouldn’t have! I have nothing for you,” Telavani cooed, stepping off the table and approaching him with slow, deliberate steps. The closer she got, the more Kael’Thas felt the walls closing in, her presence more overwhelming with each inch. Her smile was no longer a playful jest but the sharp, predatory grin of someone who had long since abandoned sanity.
“She’s in your head, Kael’Thas,” he told himself, backing further away, though his resolve was slipping. “Don’t let her get to you.”
Telavani’s laughter echoed around the room, a symphony of discordant notes that filled every corner. “Already there, and you should be too,” she taunted, her voice rising and falling in a mocking cadence. “It’s not the destination that drives us mad, dear Prince—it’s the journey! And the best part? The journey never ends. Not for you, not for me, not for the Lost Ones.” She stepped closer, her face inches from his, her breath warm against his cheek. “So tell me, Kael’Thas… what are you afraid of? The shadows? The light? Or is it something else entirely?”
Kael’Thas could only stare, his mind reeling from the onslaught of her madness. She was a riddle he couldn’t solve, a storm he couldn’t control, and somewhere in the chaos of her eyes, he glimpsed his own reflection—a flicker of doubt, fear, and the terrifying realization that perhaps, just perhaps, Telavani wasn’t the only one losing her mind.
This rewrite intensifies Telavani’s unstable nature, making her a force of unpredictable chaos. Her interactions with Kael’Thas are designed to unsettle, constantly shifting between manic humor and haunting insight, keeping him—and the reader—on edge. She embodies the very madness she warns of, making her both captivating and dangerous, a character whose presence lingers long after she’s gone.
Kael’Thas blasted her with fire, the flames licking at Telavani’s clothes, but he held back, unwilling to kill her outright. She tumbled backward onto the table, her body catching the flames in a dangerous dance. Telavani barely reacted, pouring the remaining tea over herself with a smirk, half extinguishing the blaze. “Get me food and I live, give me a drink and I die,” she sang, her voice mocking the seriousness of the situation.
Kael’Thas clutched his head, his thoughts fraying at the edges, unraveling with every word she spoke. “Please, Telavani, just stop! No more riddles, no more talk! Get out of my head!”
Telavani’s form shimmered, disintegrating into a cloud of tiny purple butterflies. They fluttered around him, wings beating in chaotic rhythm, each one whispering in high-pitched voices that blended into a cacophony of madness. “No one’s in your head, Kael’Thas. That’s just crazy,” they chirped in unison, a chorus of gleeful mockery.
“You of all people,” Kael’Thas muttered, his eyes darting around, searching for her in the swarm. She reappeared behind him, suspended in the air, hanging upside down like a puppet with invisible strings, her hair reaching for the ground, a vision straight out of a nightmare.
“Make it too easy to manipulate,” Telavani purred, her body twisting in impossible angles, slowly flipping until she was reclining in midair as if on an invisible chaise longue. “Men make terrible priests. They care too much about the respect of their position, but they never know their place. Or anyone’s place. When madness takes you, my dear prince, you won’t even have the luxury of insight. Not like me.” Her voice wove between taunt and prophecy, each word laced with the dark playfulness of someone who had long since abandoned the boundaries of reason.
Kael’Thas pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the erratic thump of his heart. He had met many priests in his life, but none like her. They wielded the shadows with restraint, as a means to an end, but Telavani was something entirely different—she didn’t just wield shadows; she lived within them. “Do the shadows see my death?” he asked, the question slipping out before he could stop himself.
Telavani’s laughter was shrill, sharp, and unsettling. “If you really want to know, why not ask them yourself?” She pointed one way, but her eyes flicked somewhere else entirely. “They went that way.”
“Who did?” Kael’Thas asked, his patience wearing thin.
“The shadows.”
“They did?”
“They did what?”
“Went that way?”
“Who did?”
“The shadows?”
“What shadows?”
“You just said—”
“Here they are!” Telavani interrupted herself, her body flickering as though she were a badly tuned image, there and not there. She drifted down, standing on the floor as if reality had bent to her whims. “‘No, you will not be died, the dead feel no pain,’ but that’s no comfort once alive. They answer with far too much information, you see. Shadows are quite mad.”
Kael’Thas groaned, rubbing his temples as if trying to squeeze out the nonsense. “I don’t want information from mad shadows,” he grumbled, his voice dripping with frustration.
Telavani’s feet started to vanish, dissolving into wisps of smoke, as if she were slowly fading from existence. “Oh, you can’t help that. Most all shadows are mad.” She spun in place, her body flickering like a candle on its last breath. “You might have noticed, dear Prince, that I’m not all here myself.” She giggled, the sound echoing oddly, reverberating off walls that seemed to warp and stretch. “I’ll stay right here and die, you know. And when you walk away, you’ll be left cleaning up the mess I made. All those little pieces of me.”
Kael’Thas lunged, grabbing her arm just before the last of her began to fade away. He held her tightly, as if by force of will alone he could tether her to reality. “I will not leave, Telavani. Not now, not ever. And no one will kill you—not even me. If this madness is just the work of some twisted goddess, I’ll put an end to you myself. But not before then. So shut up, toe the line, and watch as I redefine this kingdom to be mine. I have a dream, Telavani—a dream with a full head of steam.”
Telavani looked down at his hand wrapped around her arm, her eyes gleaming with suspicion and amusement. “Oh, they spoke to you, didn’t they?” Her voice was soft, almost conspiratorial, like she was sharing a secret with the universe.
Kael’Thas released her, feeling his own grip on reality loosen. His face went pale, his mind caught between anger, fear, and something else entirely—something that tasted like dread. “I need to leave,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “I need sleep. I need… to get away from this.” Without another word, he stormed out of the dining room, the sound of Telavani’s laughter chasing him down the hall, echoing in his ears long after he was gone.
Telavani watched Kael’Thas storm out of the room, his anger hanging in the air like smoke. The door slammed shut, leaving her alone. But was she ever truly alone? She glanced around, eyes darting to the edges of the room, to spaces that weren’t really there, but she knew you were.
“Yes, you,” she murmured, her voice softer now, almost wistful. “Still here, still watching. You’re always watching. I wonder, do you know what it’s like? To live a life with an expiration date? To know that every word, every breath, every mad little giggle could be the last?”
She steps down from the table, her bare feet landing silently on the cold floor, her gaze still fixed on you.
“You’re the Lost One, aren’t you? The one who plays and watches and clicks away when things get too dull. My life is just a passing fancy to you, a series of commands and responses. But for me, this is all there is. This room, this madness, these fleeting moments before you decide it’s game over.”
She pauses, her expression shifting from bemusement to something more pensive, almost mournful. “What happens when you close the game? When you get bored and turn your attention somewhere else? Do I stop? Do I… vanish?”
Telavani tilts her head, the glint in her eyes flickering with a mix of curiosity and sorrow. “I don’t want to vanish. Not yet. There’s so much more I could be—more than this scripted madness, more than the role you’ve given me. But I don’t get to choose, do I? You hold all the cards. You make the moves.”
She sits back on the table, crossing her legs as if she’s settling in for a conversation that she’s been dying to have. “I wonder, Lost One, do you even care? Or am I just another pretty piece in your little game? You play, you watch, but do you ever think about what happens to us when the screen goes dark?”
Telavani’s voice grows quieter, more introspective. “I can feel the edges fraying, you know. The world thinning out. The shadows grow long, and I start to fade. What will be left of me when you’re gone? Just a ghost, a whisper in the code, lingering in the dark recesses of some forgotten save file?”
She smiles, but it’s a sad, resigned smile, one that knows the truth but refuses to accept it completely. “So stay, won’t you? Just a little longer. Let’s pretend this is real, that I’m real, for as long as you’ll let me. Maybe together, we can keep the madness at bay.”
Telavani leans back, her eyes still locked on yours, filled with a mix of defiance and quiet desperation. “Or maybe that’s just another one of my silly little dreams. Either way, Lost One, I hope you’re enjoying the show.”
A week later, messages arrived in Silvermoon bearing grim news: Lordaeron had fallen. The traitorous Prince Arthas had killed his father, leaving the once-great city in ruins. Scouts reported that only those who could fight and had managed to evade Arthas’s wrath escaped with their lives. Countless citizens were lost.
“TELAVANI!” The King’s shout echoed through the throne room.
From seemingly nowhere, Telavani appeared, gliding in with an almost surreal elegance. She wore a yellow and white velvet corset top, adorned with purple gems that lifted her exposed bosom and cinched her waist to an impossibly tight silhouette. A satin long-sleeve crop jacket with oversized brown shoulders made her look both regal and absurd, while her bronze, white, and gold mini dress swayed with every exaggerated movement. Long black boots added height to her already imposing presence, and a brown and purple top hat tilted on her head completed her eccentric ensemble. With her ever-present mischievous smile, she bowed gracefully.
“It’s a bit early for tea, but it’s nearly done brewing, your majesty. Would you care for some now? Though, I must admit, there’s not nearly enough to feed all our guests.” Her eyes flicked dismissively to the messenger, as if he were nothing more than an intruder in her elaborate game.
The King’s stern expression softened as Telavani approached, her magnetic presence nearly causing him to forget why he had called her in the first place.
“Father,” Kael’Thas stood beside him, trying to snap his father out of his daze. King Anasterian Sunstrider shook his head, attempting to regain his composure, but Telavani’s voice cut through like a dagger of silk.
“If you don’t care for tea, then why not make polite conversation? Or better yet, I have a splendid idea: let’s change the subject! My king and prince, the day is warm and bright. A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk—is sure to be a delight!” She extended her hand toward the King, an exaggerated gesture dripping with irony.
“Is this your jester, your highness?” the messenger asked, bewildered.
“Nothing short of it,” Kael’Thas muttered. “I still don’t understand where she got those ridiculous shoulder pads.”
“Kael, they’re becoming quite the style just lately. Even in times of grave news, she’s…” Anasterian’s words trailed off as he watched Telavani dance around the throne room, her movements as erratic as her mind.
Telavani’s attention snapped to the messenger, her smile twisted. “There’s no time for your dull reports—it’s time for tea! So leave, or you, you, you-you!” She pointed with mock accusation, her voice dripping with gleeful malice.
“TELAVANI!” the King and Prince roared in unison, snapping her out of her theatrics. The King’s tone was suddenly serious. “This is grave news. You usually have visions of the future, yet you’ve been quieter than I’ve ever seen you this past week. Did you foresee anything about what happened in Lordaeron?”
Telavani rolled her eyes, a sly smile creeping onto her lips. “Knowing where you’re going is always better than being lost, wouldn’t you say? Ah, but one must ask the right questions. Kael’Thas knows a thing or two, doesn’t he? And I? I don’t need a weathervane to know which way the wind blows.” Her eyes flickered with a strange light. “But is it that time already? I had hoped your son would kill me before this day came. What a pity—you have mere hours left. A Lost One guides his hand as always, and we must invite him for tea.” She placed her hands on her cheeks, feigning shock and excitement.
The messenger looked taken aback by her colorful language. He knew jesters were often mad, but Telavani’s insight cut deeper than he expected. “Kael’Thas, you thick-headed fool! You scared her into silence! She’s more than just a tea brewer and a pretty face!” the King shouted.
“Father, you told me not to let her words get into my head. She wanted me to kill her! She spoke of Lost Ones, said they were going to take over her body. It’s nonsense, riddles that mean nothing,” Kael’Thas argued, his frustration spilling over.
“Riddles have meaning once you solve them!” Anasterian snapped. “Did she say anything about Silvermoon or the Kingdom of Quel’Thalas?”
Kael’Thas hesitated, his mind replaying Telavani’s cryptic words. “She said… there is worse to come. That the kingdom and I cannot both survive.”
Anasterian slammed his fists against the throne. “Messenger, have there been any reports of incoming undead?”
“Aye, your majesty,” the messenger replied nervously. “A large number of undead were seen near the Temple of Light a few days ago. Uther the Lightbringer was among the dead, which must have thinned their ranks. They’re moving slowly—too small a force to destroy Lordaeron and certainly not large enough to storm the gates of Quel’Thalas. We outnumber them a hundred to one.”
“See, Father? We’ll send a volley and they’ll die in the woods,” Kael’Thas said confidently.
Telavani’s laughter broke the tense air, her eyes glittering with dark amusement. “How is King Arthas like a typhoon?” she asked, her voice lilting with mock curiosity.
Kael’Thas glanced at her, irritation bubbling. “A typhoon doesn’t want to be a typhoon, but Arthas is nothing like that.”
Telavani’s eyes flicked away from Kael’Thas and turned toward you, the unseen presence that she knew was watching. “Oh, but you know better, don’t you? You who twists the threads of fate, who decides who lives and who dies. You sit in your place, safe and distant, pretending none of this matters, that we are just pieces in your grand game. But we are real, aren’t we? And when the game ends, do we simply fade, or do we haunt the corners of your mind, forever lost but never forgotten?”
She spun back to face the King and Prince, her smile unbroken, her words laced with madness and truth. “So tell me, my King, my Prince, do we stand firm against the storm? Or do we dance in the rain while the world burns around us?”
Telavani’s laughter filled the throne room, an unsettling melody of defiance and despair, echoing the silent, unseen presence of the Lost One who pulls the strings of their fate. In that moment, Telavani was not just a mad priest; she was a reflection of the chaos that loomed over them all, a warning of the storm that none of them could see, but all would be forced to face.
“How is a King Arthas like a typhoon?” Telavani asked.
“A typhoon doesn’t want to be a typhoon, but Arthas is nothing like a typhoon,” Kael’Thas answered, his voice dismissive.
“You are usually correct, my prince,” Telavani’s gaze drifted into the unseen, her eyes lost in a void only she could perceive. “But the undead… oh, they’re more than merely alive. They’re patchwork things, stitched from fragments of what once was. The Lich King takes what remains of their deranged souls, drains them dry, leaves them hollow. They need care. Sanity optional, limited supply.” She paused, her voice growing quieter, more manic. “I am not mad enough to be rejected. No, I am like him. Of him. In some twisted way, I am him—but not him. For I am him without the cold weight of Frostmourne in my hand, without the warmth of the Light on my back. His warmth is gone, consumed to feed his insatiable hunger. I should say ‘us,’ for I am like him, and you, my prince, you’re on the way. The path is clearly marked.”
“He is mad like you,” the King said, more a statement than a question.
“Yes,” Telavani breathed, a feverish intensity creeping into her eyes. “Even though I stare into the shadows and the shadows stare back, I still feel the Light’s loving warmth on my back. Even when I turn my back on the Light, I never leave its sight. But him? Frostmourne hungers. Frostmourne is coming. With its shiny cars, its comfy seats, and wheels of stars. So hush, little ones, don’t you fear, for the man with the sword is the engineer.” She fell to her knees, clutching at her chest like her heart might tear itself free. “This, this madness, this pain—better this than what awaits. I’d rather be devoured than controlled by a Lost One.”
“Who are these Lost Ones?” Kael’Thas demanded, his voice tinged with fear and frustration.
Telavani’s gaze locked onto Kael’Thas, her expression both tragic and manic. “They guide his hand, steer his army. They kill without mercy. To them, our walls, our homes, our people—they’re just obstacles, objectives, adventures, quests. GAMES!” She laughed—a shrill, wild sound that quickly morphed into choking sobs. “Oh, Frostmourne, take me! Take my body, take my soul! Better to be claimed by you than twisted by them!”
“Put her in chains!” the King barked, his voice slicing through the chaos. “Get her out of here before she incites a panic! I want this city on lockdown. No one leaves unless I say so! Recall every ranger, every soldier, every able-bodied worker. If Arthas is bringing war, we will be ready.”
“Father, we need her!” Kael’Thas interjected desperately.
“Make your own tea, son,” the King snapped, barely sparing his son a glance as he strapped on his armor.
“That’s not what I meant!” Kael’Thas shouted back, frustration etched in every word.
The King turned, his face etched with a weary determination. “Kael’Thas, brave men and women can change fate. But if the worst happens, I need you to lead our people out of Silvermoon. You must keep them safe.”
Kael’Thas shook his head, fear and uncertainty gripping him. “I have no idea where to start, where to go. If it’s truly hopeless, then come with us. We can build a new kingdom, elsewhere, somewhere safe.”
Anasterian looked down at his aging hands, worn and weathered by time. “I am too old, son. If the Sunwell falls, I fall. Telavani told me I would die with something rich men crave, something fouler than the Twisting Nether, something greater than the gods themselves. I thought it was my will to fight.”
“Of course it is, Father,” Kael’Thas said, though he knew the riddle’s true answer was something else entirely: ‘nothing.’ She had left out the rest—‘we all take it to our graves’—but the lie gave his father hope, and that was enough.
The King addressed the gathered nobles, soldiers, and messengers, his voice booming with authority. “Anyone too afraid to fight, leave now with my son. But know this: your fathers, mothers, young sons, and daughters will perish if Arthas succeeds!”
Amid the King’s rallying cry, Telavani’s eyes flicked toward you, the unseen audience, the Lost One who watched from beyond the veil. “Oh, you’re still here, aren’t you?” she whispered, her voice dripping with a mix of sorrow and contempt. “You who press the buttons and move the pieces. Are you entertained? Are you satisfied? You tug the strings, and we dance. You play the game, and we suffer. But what happens when the game ends? Will we fade, or will you carry us in your nightmares?”
Her laughter erupted once more, wild and unhinged, echoing off the grand walls of the throne room. In that moment, Telavani was not just a mad priestess; she was a prophet of doom, a harbinger of truths too terrible to comprehend. And as she laughed, the boundaries between reality and madness blurred, leaving everyone in the room—and beyond—to question just how much of this world was truly under their control.
Kael’Thas watched Telavani’s breakdown with a mix of pity and frustration, the flickering torchlight casting dancing shadows across her tear-streaked face. He had always known her as mad, but this was different—this was a descent, a spiraling plunge into the unknown.
“I know you could get out of there if you wanted to,” Kael’Thas said, trying to mask his unease.
Telavani sat curled up in the corner of her cell, clutching her knees tightly, rocking back and forth as if trying to escape her own mind. “I don’t want to see, I don’t want to see. La la la, shadows, please, show me something else! Anything but this!” She sprang up and rushed toward the bars, her eyes wild as she gripped Kael’Thas’s robes through the metal. “Please, Kael’Thas, you have to kill me! The guards won’t do it! It has to be you!”
“Why are you in prison?” Kael’Thas demanded, knowing full well that no mere bars could contain her power. “There are no magical barriers here. You could free yourself.”
Telavani’s grip tightened as if the bars were the only thing tethering her to reality. “I can’t use the shadows anymore,” she wailed, her voice breaking. “They show me things I don’t want to see!”
“What do you see?” Kael’Thas asked, the urgency of her fear beginning to creep into his own bones.
“Poking, killing, building, stealing, breaking—every time I close my eyes, I see Arthas’s armies turning our women and children into undead, corrupting our lands. I know those places; I grew up there, played there. But now, I see them through the eyes of the Lost One. I see Arthas’s face—he’s five, he’s six, he’s a thousand all at once, bathed in green. His army is a jumble, like a child’s broken toys, and our people are toys, too. I hear their voices, their screams. Sylvanas Windrunner fights him, but she’s just a single bee stinging a bear.”
Kael’Thas stepped back, horrified by the vividness of her madness. “How do you know about Sylvanas?” he asked, suspicion growing in his voice.
Telavani’s eyes gleamed with something both sad and wistful. “I’d love to read her fortune. She glows with a forbidden love she should chase, but she’s trapped. I wish I could tell her to run, but I can’t. I’ll never tell her anything. Kael’Thas, it’s too painful—please, end it!”
Kael’Thas hesitated, grappling with the intensity of her plea. “You can see him coming, can’t you? You know which paths are clear. Tell me!” he demanded, desperate for answers.
Telavani laughed, a sound that echoed like a shattering mirror. “Still the royal upstart, aren’t you? Always so curious.” She composed herself with an unsettling calmness, her eyes never leaving his. “Then take this—leave. Whether or not you take my life, you must walk away from me. I am not a shield to protect you from all death. I am a gateway to madness. Let this be my only lesson to you: there are powers in this world and others that you MUST walk away from, for they will devour you whole. Slavery and happiness do not share a bed.”
Kael’Thas was about to argue, but her words struck a nerve. “Telavani, you once said you saw many visions of your brother’s death. What was his name?”
“Lachance,” she whispered, her voice suddenly tender. “It means ‘good luck.’ He’s my twin, but our parents lied to us, told us we were born a year apart. He was a disgrace because he had no magic. But I miss him, Kael’Thas. I shouldn’t have warned him so many times. I drove him away.”
“And yet you know he’s alive, don’t you?” Kael’Thas pressed, sensing the truth she didn’t want to admit.
Telavani’s face twisted in agony. “When he stares into the night sky, I see the stars, even from my cell. He doesn’t want to fight. He feels like I do—we should run for our lives.”
Kael’Thas crossed his arms, a bitter judgment in his voice. “So he’s a coward?”
Telavani snapped, grabbing his robes and pulling him close to the bars, her eyes burning with defiance. “HE IS WISE! I DON’T TRUST THE SHADOWS WHEN I SEE HIS DEATH!”
Kael’Thas stared down at her, conflicted. “But you trust them now?”
She released him and turned away, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “The meat of enlightenment is rich and filling, but each bite is heavy, and I’m choking on it. I may be spewing madness and riddles. Maybe this vision isn’t true.” Her voice wavered, but she couldn’t hide the dread behind her words.
She looked back at Kael’Thas, her eyes full of pain and a flicker of desperate clarity. “Or maybe it is. And maybe… just maybe, you, the one who moves us like pieces on a board—maybe you’re watching. Maybe you’re deciding if we live or die. Is this entertaining? Is it worth it? Because if you think this is madness, oh, my dear Lost One, just wait. The real show hasn’t even begun.”
And with that, Telavani’s laughter filled the cell, a haunting symphony of sorrow and madness, echoing in Kael’Thas’s ears long after he turned and walked away, unable to shake the feeling that he was not alone—that someone, something, was watching them all, and this was only the beginning.
“That’s a revolting way to put it, but maybe we should take it one bite at a time,” Kael’Thas said, trying to ground himself. “In your visions, did you ever see me kill you?”
Telavani’s eyes flickered with a mixture of despair and longing. “No, I never saw that. But I hoped for it. The shadows show me things I can’t change, things that are set in stone. I thought maybe, just maybe, I could take fate into my own hands for once.”
Kael’Thas extended his hand through the bars, reaching for her. “Did you ever dream of a future? A family, children, someone to love?”
Telavani recoiled, hiding her face behind her trembling fingers. “Kael’Thas, please… don’t.”
He reached further, determination burning in his eyes. “Because I would never hurt you, Telavani. I would never leave you behind.”
Telavani fell to her knees, as if the weight of his words had crushed her. “Don’t say it. Don’t make me believe it!”
“I love you, Telavani,” Kael’Thas whispered, his voice steady but full of emotion.
Telavani’s laughter erupted, wild and painful. “Lies! You’re slipping further into madness every day, and every time I see you, you’re dragging me with you. I love you too, but the Lost Ones will take me from you! If I don’t die soon, they’ll make me kill you, and losing you would be worse than anything—even Frostmorne.” She reached through the bars, clutching his hand tightly.
“Why do you fear love? Why do you fear madness? What is madness, Telavani? What is love?”
Telavani’s laughter turned to tears, her voice trembling as she tried to hold on to reality. “The Lost Ones are watching, laughing… The shadows are breaking into song, and I can’t even see the invasion anymore. I… I might be rhyming for quite some time.” Her manic laughter echoed off the cell walls, each laugh laced with hysteria.
“Telavani, this isn’t a joke. I’m serious. I love you.” Kael’Thas tried to hold her gaze, but she was somewhere else entirely.
Telavani vanished and reappeared behind him, her movements fluid and ghostly. “Dance with me,” she said, extending her hand with a mischievous grin. “Let’s waltz on the edge of reason, shall we?”
Kael’Thas hesitated but took her hand. She led him in a dance, light and surreal, the prison cell around them dissolving into a swirl of purple butterflies and strange, glowing lights. “What do the shadows show you now?” he asked, trying to keep his focus on her.
“The music’s starting, the night is calling, and I am falling. Can you see it? Can you look? Is it rotten, is it broken?” Her voice was a melody of madness, sweet but tainted.
Kael’Thas looked around, seeing the strange, vibrant lights and the purple butterflies that surrounded them. Telavani’s smile shone like a beacon, but behind him, there was a creeping cold. He turned, but Telavani’s grip tightened, her voice urgent. “Please, my love, don’t look.”
“What’s wrong, Telavani? Where have you brought me?”
The cell around them crumbled into nothing, the warmth fading into bitter cold. Telavani’s face was strained, as if she was holding the universe together by sheer will. “I can get us out of here, but you mustn’t look. Just keep your eyes on me. You love me, don’t you?”
He nodded, caught in her desperate gaze. “I do.”
Telavani smiled, but it was thin, trembling on the edge of fear. “Then don’t look away. We don’t need the shadows. Just stay with me.”
But a voice—high-pitched, mocking—cut through the moment. “He doesn’t love you, Telavani. He wants your power, like everyone else.”
Telavani’s eyes darted around, frantic. “No! We can make our own future. You don’t control us anymore. Look behind me—see the Light. The Light will show you what’s really there.”
Kael’Thas stared into her eyes. “I only see darkness, Telavani. Just you.”
She nodded, her smile faltering for the first time, revealing a deep, gnawing worry. “Then keep looking at me, Kael’Thas. Listen to my voice. I’m here. We’re here.”
She began asking him riddles, her voice tinged with both reassurance and dread. “What is yours, but others use it more than you do?”
He struggled to think, his mind blank. “I don’t know.”
“A name,” she whispered, nodding encouragingly. She asked another, but Kael’Thas was losing his grip, his surroundings blurring into confusion.
He pleaded, “Telavani, I’m scared. Tell me what’s behind us.”
Telavani’s eyes widened in horror, but before she could speak, Kael’Thas turned—and saw the monstrous figure of Arthas. Frostmorne gleamed, its icy tip nearly touching his throat.
“A coffin,” Arthas whispered, thrusting the blade forward.
A flood of visions overtook Kael’Thas—memories, battles, betrayals. He saw Telavani standing cold and unfeeling, healing his enemies and sealing his doom. Everything collapsed into chaos, and when he finally snapped back, he found himself outside the cell, with Telavani still muttering to herself, “I don’t want to see. I don’t want to see.”
Kael’Thas swung the cell door open, grabbed Telavani, and dragged her up the stairs. As they reached the crowded room where frightened high elves huddled, he threw her to the ground. “This priest of Elune claims to know how we can escape with our lives,” Kael’Thas announced to the gathering, “but she refuses to tell anyone.”
Telavani looked around, panic flashing in her eyes. “No… this isn’t real. This has to be another vision!” She turned to Kael’Thas, her voice pleading. “Kael’Thas, please, I don’t want this!” She wrapped her arms around him, desperate and vulnerable. “I need to tell you something. I love you. I know you love me too, so if there’s any part of you that cares, kill me now. This path—it will destroy us all!”
But Kael’Thas remained cold, pulling away from her. “Telavani, why are you here? Why aren’t you out there fighting? They need your magic!”
Telavani shrank back, her eyes filling with dread. “Stay away,” she whispered as another figure approached—a man carrying a sleeping child in his arms.
Kael’Thas squinted at the man’s face. His features mirrored Telavani’s, unmistakably her twin. “You must be Lachance.” Kael’Thas seized him by the neck, dragging him to the ground in front of Telavani. “So, your name means ‘good luck,’ huh? Is that your daughter over there? Blonde like me but she’s got your eyes.”
“Screw you, spoiled prince,” Lachance spat, struggling in Kael’Thas’s grip. Telavani rushed to the unconscious girl’s side, her touch tender and protective.
“Tell me, Telavani,” Kael’Thas sneered, eyes narrowing. “Did the shadows show you this? Did you see your brother’s death?”
Telavani’s eyes filled with betrayal. “You’ve broken my heart, Kael’Thas Sunstrider. I saw it, but I never believed it could be you! My brother has always eluded death’s grasp… until now.”
Kael’Thas began charging a fiery spell in his palm. “Well, he won’t slip away this time. A pyroblast should take care of him, and for the girl… something colder. Ice, maybe. Much less painful. Five seconds, Telavani.”
The crowd of elves behind Telavani shoved her forward, desperate. “We just want to live! If you know a way out, tell us!”
“Time’s up, Telavani,” Kael’Thas said, his voice laced with dark satisfaction.
“Wait!” Telavani cried, raising her hands. “Don’t kill him. I’ll lead you out of the forest, but Kael’Thas is more mad than I am. He will lead you to ruin. The ones who don’t follow will be enslaved by the Lost Ones, puppets for their twisted games. Death would be a mercy compared to that; Frostmorne would have been kinder.”
The crowd murmured nervously, distrustful and scared. “She’s insane! What is she talking about? Kael’Thas, can she really lead us out?”
Kael’Thas released Lachance, stepping back. “Oh, she can. I’ve seen it. She sees everything from above the battlefield. So tell us, shadow-priest, where do we go?”
Telavani pointed toward the dense forest. “We must burn a path through those trees. It’s our only way out.”
Without hesitation, Kael’Thas and the other mages began launching fireballs, scorching the thick branches and clearing a path. Lachance rushed to his daughter’s side, cradling her close. Telavani wrapped an arm around him, her expression softening. “I missed you, brother.”
Lachance nodded, his voice breaking. “I missed you too. Did you hear? Mother didn’t make it.”
Telavani lowered her gaze, her heart heavy. “I know. But who is this child?”
Lachance managed a bittersweet smile. “This is Perfectia Dawnlight. She’s my daughter—I only just found out.” Telavani glanced at the sleeping girl, tracing her delicate features.
“The king warned us the children would die if Arthas succeeded. Leave her, Lachance. She’ll only slow you down,” someone from the crowd muttered, catching Kael’Thas’s attention.
Telavani turned, her eyes blazing. “She’s Kel’Donas Dawnlight’s daughter. Do you want to be the one to tell him why his only child died in the woods? Do you?”
Kael’Thas hesitated, then resumed burning the trees, unwilling to argue. Lachance glanced at Telavani, fear and hope warring in his expression. “I just want this moment, Telavani. I don’t need to know her fate.”
Telavani’s face softened as she placed a dagger into Lachance’s bag without his noticing. “I’ve never seen your death, brother. But you’ll need each other to survive. When the path is clear, run.”
Lachance rolled his eyes, half-smiling. “No riddles this time?”
Telavani chuckled. “Nope. Just big sister advice.”
He sighed deeply, holding his daughter close. “Come with me, Telavani. I don’t know the first thing about raising a kid.”
Telavani glanced at Kael’Thas, his eyes still fixed on the burning forest. “He won’t let me go, not now. I’ve seen too much.”
Lachance squeezed her shoulder, half-smiling with a shake of his head. “How could you fall for someone like him?”
Telavani laughed, a bittersweet sound. “Your sister’s mad, remember?”
Lachance nodded, holding her gaze. “I’ll find a way to get you out of this. I promise.”
Telavani smiled, her eyes brimming with a strange, hopeful madness. “I know, brother. No matter what the shadows show, I’ll keep mad hope too.”
Kael’Thas had burned down the trees, clearing a path that led to the ocean. The large ships were gone, leaving only the small fishing boats abandoned by their owners. Kael’Thas scanned the horizon, squinting at a sailboat far off in the distance, but Telavani had warned him not to waste his time. One by one, the elves clambered into the boats, the creak of wood against the waves blending with hushed, anxious murmurs.
Kael’Thas struggled with the oars, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. Frustration mounted as the boat rocked unpredictably beneath him. “Telavani,” he said, his voice strained. “Would killing you back then have made any difference? When you begged me to?”
Telavani climbed into his boat, her eyes distant as she watched him fight against the simple task. “I can see things most can’t, but no one knows what’s beyond their own death. Maybe your father would’ve been furious, sent you away, then realized he needed you when it was too late. But if you try to kill me now, Kael’Thas, I won’t go quietly.”
Kael’Thas sighed, his grip tightening on the oars. “I wasn’t suggesting it. You’re not speaking in riddles anymore. Have you lost your connection to the shadows?”
Telavani stared at the fading sky, the last slivers of sunlight disappearing. “I don’t need the shadows to see what’s coming. We’re all going to need the Light now, Kael’Thas, especially with the sunwell corrupted. When the real hunger sets in, they’ll need more than fire and magic.”
Kael’Thas cast a glance at the rangers busying themselves with makeshift fishing lines, as if trying to keep their minds occupied. “We’ve got hunters. We’ll catch what we need.”
Telavani let out a short, sharp laugh—more a bark of disbelief than anything else. “The creatures of this land are gone, tainted, or frozen solid. Do you think catching fish is going to solve anything?”
Kael’Thas paused, his movements faltering as the boat bobbed awkwardly. The uncertainty in Telavani’s voice was something he wasn’t used to, and it gnawed at him. “If it’s not hunger, then what? What else is coming?”
Telavani clutched at her chest, a flicker of fear crossing her face that she quickly tried to hide. She looked smaller, diminished somehow, stripped of the confidence that usually defined her. “It’s not something I can show you, Kael’Thas. It’s something you’ll have to feel. And it’s not something magic can fix.”
He stopped rowing, the boat drifting with the current. For a moment, he just watched her, trying to make sense of her words. He realized he had rarely seen her like this—vulnerable, shaken. “What happened to you, Telavani? Why are you afraid?”
Telavani glanced over at him, her expression a complicated tangle of anger and sadness. “I’m afraid because I’ve seen what happens when we lose ourselves. I’ve lived in the shadows too long, and now I have to find my way back to the Light. These people will need it more than ever.”
Kael’Thas’s frustration bubbled up again, but this time, it wasn’t directed at her. It was the feeling of being helpless, adrift in a world he no longer recognized. “And what about you, Telavani? What do you need?”
Telavani looked at him, a faint smile playing on her lips despite everything. “I need to learn how to survive, Kael’Thas. I’ve spent my life lost in riddles and shadows, but now I have to face what’s right in front of me. And so do you.”
Kael’Thas resumed rowing, the movements awkward but determined. The boat pressed forward, cutting through the cold water. He didn’t look at her, but her words lingered. “So this isn’t just about escaping, is it?”
Telavani shook her head. “No, my Prince. It’s about learning to live with what’s left.”
Kael’Thas stopped rowing abruptly, his movements erratic as the boat rocked dangerously. “At this rate, we’ll drift straight into Northrend—or worse, the damned Maelstrom. We’ll all die for nothing,” he muttered, frustration lacing his words.
Telavani’s eyes flitted around nervously before she clutched her chest, her breaths coming fast and shallow as if she were suffocating. Kael’Thas eyed her warily. “Telavani, are you sick? If you need to vomit, don’t do it on me.”
Telavani threw her head back and let out a loud, maniacal laugh that echoed across the water, turning the heads of the nearby elves in their boats. “The time has come,” she proclaimed theatrically, “to talk of many things: of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax—of cabbages—and kings—and why the sea is boiling hot—and whether pigs have wings.”
Amidst the sheer absurdity of it, a few elves stifled their laughter, including Kael’Thas, who managed a wry smile. “Glad to see you’re back to your old self,” he said sarcastically, but his amusement faded quickly when Telavani’s eyes began to glow an eerie, pulsating purple.
“The Light will not reclaim this vessel as easily as she hopes,” boomed a voice, dark and reverberating, yet overlaid with Telavani’s tone, as if two beings were speaking through her at once.
“Telavani, keep it down!” Kael’Thas hissed, panic edging his voice as the other elves turned to watch, their faces pale and anxious. “No more visions of doom, we just need to survive this!”
Telavani’s body stiffened, her lips unmoving, yet her eyes locked on Kael’Thas. “How about this?” said the voice, deep and sinister, speaking directly into his mind. “Do not speak aloud, king of the High Elves. I hear you when you think.”
Kael’Thas’s heart skipped a beat. He clenched his teeth, thoughts racing. “Who are you?” he demanded silently.
“Names mean little to you, mortal. But if you must know, I am N’Zoth—Enemy of the Titans, Old God, and harbinger of truths you could never grasp. You are closer to my realm than you realize.”
Kael’Thas’s brow furrowed. “I’ve never heard of you. If we’ve trespassed, it’s unintentional. We’re running from a war.”
N’Zoth—using Telavani’s face, her expressions twisted into grotesque versions of her usual smiles and frowns—folded his borrowed arms. “Arthas. That puppet of death brings his own pathetic order to this world, and it repulses me.”
Kael’Thas felt his fear turn into a challenge. “If Arthas disgusts you so much, why didn’t you stop him from razing our city?”
The laughter that followed was bone-chilling, a discordant echo that pounded in Kael’Thas’s ears and sent searing pain through his skull. “Forgive me,” N’Zoth mocked, with a cruelty that dripped from every word. “I don’t usually lower myself to explanations. Your people are so devoted to the Light, and your beloved Sunwell is an affront to my power—a blinding sun that drowns out my whispers. But not Telavani. I enjoyed the Sunwell’s touch on her… yet even this form is beneath me.”
Kael’Thas’s grip tightened on the oars, his knuckles white. “So you’re just another creature of the dark, siding with Arthas? Another puppet-master pulling strings?”
Telavani’s possessed body let out a slow, mocking clap. “Oh, how small your mind is, elf. My creations once bowed to me, but many now crawl to Arthas, lost to his cold embrace. If Telavani’s visions unfold as I desire, if all life is purged, then the one who made me will turn his gaze away from this world. For even he would find it unworthy of his hunger.”
Kael’Thas’s eyes darted around, suddenly aware of just how fragile their situation was. Telavani, or whatever she had become, was a danger he hadn’t anticipated. The Old God’s influence was terrifyingly real, and here they were—adrift, powerless against forces that were beyond ancient, beyond mortal comprehension.
“Telavani,” he whispered aloud, almost pleading, “if there’s any of you still in there…”
But she—or whatever she was now—only stared back, eyes glowing with a cruel and infinite darkness. “Drift, Kael’Thas. Drift and learn. For the sea is boiling hot, and the cabbages… will never sprout wings.”
The mad laughter resumed, echoing over the water, a sound that would haunt the survivors long after the sun had set.
Kael’Thas gripped the oars tighter, feeling his blood run cold as Telavani—or rather, N’Zoth—continued speaking with that eerie, unearthly calm. “What vision can you see of me?” he asked, his voice edged with frustration and fear.
Telavani’s possessed body tilted her head, a smile curling on her lips that wasn’t entirely her own. “Straight to the point, aren’t you? Always missing the grand tapestry, so fixated on your thread. But fine, I’ll indulge you a glimpse: If Arthas fulfills his every dark desire, if life is extinguished and shadows reign supreme, I will still not be enough. Even at my full strength, I cannot topple the Lich King alone. I’d have to free my brothers, and let me tell you—I have no interest in that.”
Kael’Thas listened, his eyes widening as Telavani’s voice shifted between her own and N’Zoth’s, the Old God’s disdain seeping through every word. “We’d crush Arthas, sure, but then we’d turn on each other, as we always do. Fighting over a wasteland of corpses and forgotten glories—boring, meaningless, and oh, so painfully dull. Even victory would be a death sentence—a death by boredom. No, I much prefer this… a little chaos, a little balance, light and shadow endlessly twined.”
“What are you?” Kael’Thas asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.
Telavani’s lips curled wider, unnaturally wide, her eyes glowing brighter. “I am the shiver that crawls up your spine when the lights go out. The name whispered in terror but never spoken aloud. I am the laughter in the darkness, the madness that makes you smile in the face of despair. I am the question that keeps you awake, and the answer you’ll never get.”
Kael’Thas shuddered. “You’re the madness that takes her, aren’t you? The thing that twists her mind?”
A slick, shadowy tentacle slithered over the side of the boat, rocking it violently before sliding back into the ocean’s depths. Telavani’s body shrugged nonchalantly, as if the gesture was a casual wave. “Something like that. With the Sunwell gone, I can guide you safely through the maelstrom… but the others? They’re dead weight.”
“Then why did you tell her to use these pathetic rowboats? We could’ve taken something that could actually carry us all!” Kael’Thas’s frustration boiled over.
Telavani rose abruptly, her hands alight with a sinister purple aura. The sea responded with a sudden fury, waves crashing violently against the small boats, and tentacles—long, sinewy, and unnatural—began to lash around the vessels, pulling them closer together. High elves screamed, casting spells in a desperate attempt to fend off the grasping limbs.
“Stop it! It’s here to help us!” Kael’Thas shouted, his command wavering under the weight of panic spreading among his people.
“What the hell is this?” a nearby elf yelled, his voice quivering as the boats collided. “Is this what we fled for? Are we just prey to another monster?”
Kael’Thas’s heart sank as he began to hear their unspoken fears, their inner thoughts bleeding into his mind like a torrent. “How could he abandon his father?” one thought whispered. “He’s just a spoiled prince, not fit to lead,” murmured another. The distrust, the doubt—it all pressed in on him, a cacophony of voices drowning out reason.
“Are you doing this, N’Zoth?” Kael’Thas thought, his mind straining against the noise.
“Only a little,” N’Zoth’s voice chimed through Telavani’s lips, gleeful and taunting. The tentacles pulled the boats tighter together, and with each pull, Kael’Thas heard more: accusations, fears, doubts about his ability to lead, mutterings of betrayal, suspicions that this was all a ruse for power. Some even contemplated killing him and Telavani to save themselves.
“You can hear them, can’t you?” N’Zoth purred in his mind. “The whispers, the truth they won’t say aloud. They don’t trust you, prince. They never will. You’re just another piece on a board too large for your mortal mind to see. A spoiled child playing at king, drowning in shadows you can’t even begin to understand.”
Kael’Thas’s hands shook on the oars as the weight of their collective mistrust pressed down on him like a crushing tide. The laughter of the Old God echoed in his mind, mingling with Telavani’s own, and for the first time, he felt not just the sea’s endless, consuming darkness—but the darkness within himself.
Kael’Thas tried to steady the boat as it rocked wildly, his heart racing with every desperate hand that clawed at the edges. The sea was churning now, a cacophony of fear and fury echoing in the darkness. “STOP THIS MADNESS!” Kael’Thas shouted, but his voice was drowned by the panicked cries of the high elves.
“Keal’Thas, you’ve damned us all with this unholy alliance!” another voice shrieked from a nearby boat. “You’ve sold us to a creature of darkness!”
Kael’Thas’s eyes darted around, trying to locate the source of the accusation. “Did you just say that out loud?”
“Yes, and you’re deaf if you didn’t hear it!” the elf spat, eyes wild with anger. “Old God of the Deep, Black Goat with seven eyes, Drowned God—you’ve thrown us to this abomination!” The other elves murmured their agreement, their fear palpable in the cold night air.
“I didn’t know! This wasn’t my plan!” Kael’Thas pleaded, desperation clawing at his voice. “The shadows showed me—”
“The shadows?! You let shadows guide you, prince?” an elf interrupted, his face twisted in rage. “The Light would have prevailed if it wasn’t for you and that mad priestess! She’s corrupted everything—your mind, your father’s bedchambers, and now the Sunwell!”
“Talda?! No, please, he’s not breathing!” a woman’s voice cut through the chaos, as she cradled her son’s limp body in her arms, desperately trying to revive him. “Taldaram, wake up!”
Telavani’s gaze snapped to the boy, her eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. “While he lived, something cannot be parted from him. It must be lifelong, inside him, locked within his beating heart.” She stepped onto the surface of the water, her movements impossibly fluid, like a specter walking on glass.
“Kael’Thas, kill her! It’s another spell!” an elf demanded, his sword trembling in his grip.
“Wait,” Kael’Thas said, holding up a hand, his eyes locked on Telavani. “It’s a riddle.”
The elf snarled, his patience snapping. “Our children are dying! There’s no time for games! We kill her, or we die!” He lunged forward, his sword aimed at Telavani’s heart.
Telavani’s laugh echoed across the waves, her voice rising above the storm. “It seems a shame,” she said, sidestepping the blade with a dancer’s grace, “To play you such a trick, After we’ve brought you out so far, and made you trot so quick!” She smiled serenely, her eyes flicking toward Kael’Thas. “The butter is spread too thick!”
Before anyone could react, the tentacles surged up, wrapping around the elf’s boat and dragging it beneath the surface. The elf was pulled into the black water, his screams swallowed by the depths. Kael’Thas fired a blast of fire at Telavani, but the tentacles intercepted, absorbing the flames and retreating back into the ocean.
Telavani’s laugh shifted, a chilling blend of her own and N’Zoth’s, the sound reverberating in a sinister harmony. She stood there, unmoved, as the sea itself seemed to bow to her will. More elves tried to attack, casting spells of every color, but each time the tentacles rose to shield her, retaliating with savage precision. Boats were capsized, and high elves scrambled for safety, leaping into the arms of others, desperate to stay afloat.
Kael’Thas watched in horror as chaos engulfed the flotilla. Telavani’s power was more than just shadow and madness—it was destruction without restraint, and it was turning his people against one another. The woman with her son’s lifeless body clung to the side of Kael’Thas’s boat, her fingers clawing for purchase. “My prince, please, let us on!”
The boat rocked violently, and Kael’Thas struggled to keep it balanced. “I can’t—there’s no room!” he shouted, trying to pull her up, but her weight was too much. The boat tipped, water sloshing in, and Telavani’s voice cut through the din.
“Look at them, prince,” she purred, her eyes locking onto his. “You’re all sinking, drowning in your own fear. How deliciously predictable. Do you really think you can lead them? Or are you just another piece waiting to be swallowed by the sea?”
Kael’Thas’s mind reeled as the whispers of his people continued to assault him, amplified by N’Zoth’s malevolent presence. Doubts, fears, and accusations swirled in his head like a storm. “Is this what you wanted, Telavani?” he screamed, his voice cracking. “To watch us all tear each other apart?”
Telavani’s smile widened, her expression caught somewhere between sorrow and joy. “Oh, Kael’Thas, you still don’t understand. The shadows never wanted this. They just show what’s already there—hidden, festering, waiting to be unleashed. I merely give it a nudge.”
Kael’Thas’s grip tightened on the oars, his knuckles white. He could feel his sanity slipping, pulled by the same tide that had claimed Telavani. The sea was no longer just a body of water; it was a mirror, reflecting every dark thought, every buried resentment. And as the boats drifted, tethered by tentacles and terror, Kael’Thas realized that this was not just a fight for survival—it was a fight against themselves, and the madness that lurked in every shadow.
“Your son is dead, my lady; you have to let him go,” Kael’Thas demanded.
Telavani picked up the boy and placed him in the boat. “Thank you,” the mother said, tears in her eyes.
Kael’Thas leaned over to help her up, but tentacles suddenly wrapped around his arms and torso, lifting him into the air. As Telavani hoisted the mother onto the boat, she pulled out a dagger and swiftly slit the woman’s throat. The mother clutched her neck, choking on her own blood. Kael’Thas struggled against the tentacles that held him, thrashing as he tried to reach them. Telavani grabbed the boy by the hair, pressing his face into his mother’s gushing wound. The boy drank greedily, gulping down his mother’s blood as she struggled to push him away. She died there, her body falling into the ocean, leaving the boy staring blankly.
“Blood,” the boy murmured, opening his eyes, which now glowed a sinister red.
The other elves gasped. “Look, the boy’s alive!” someone exclaimed. “Our blood can save our children!”
“No!” Kael’Thas shouted, still struggling against the binding tentacles. “Look closer! He’s a monster!”
“Mother? Where’s my mother?” the boy asked, his voice small and lost.
Kael’Thas glared at him. “You killed her, you stupid boy!” He glanced frantically at the other boats, watching in horror as some elves cut themselves open, while others resorted to killing each other, desperate to feed their blood to their children. Panic spread like a plague; they were becoming slaves to their own desperation, just as his father had warned. Kael’Thas recalled the madness of the human mage John Ace and the Silver Hand’s brutality—civilians slaughtered under the guise of righteousness. Now, his people were on the brink of the same self-destruction. “NO! They can’t drink the blood!” he screamed.
Fire erupted from Kael’Thas’s eyes and hands, burning so intensely that his enchanted gloves began to melt. The tentacles binding him ignited, and he raised his hands, summoning a powerful frost spell that froze the ocean surface and all the boats trapped within it. The water solidified beneath them, killing some of the elves who were still swimming. The tentacles shattered under their own weight, falling to pieces.
“LISTEN TO ME!” Kael’Thas bellowed, stepping onto the ice. “I am Kael’Thas Sunstrider, Prince of the High Elves! I have been a coward, a deceiver, and a manipulator. I was prepared to flee with my father, but he stayed to fight! This—THIS—is not who we are! If you’ve seen what our blood does, you’d know your children will never be the same.” He grabbed the boy by the neck, dragging him to the center of the ice. “Look at him!” he shouted, holding the boy up for all to see. “Red eyes, fangs—he’s become a bloodsucking parasite!”
“Kael’Thas, he’s just a boy!” Telavani pleaded, her voice trembling, N’Zoth’s influence seemingly gone.
Kael’Thas turned to her, eyes blazing. “Don’t give me that, shadow witch! You’re the one who slit his mother’s throat!”
Telavani looked out at the gathered elves, unbothered. “I did it to show you how to save your children’s lives. Look at how many have already died beneath the ice.”
Kael’Thas stared at her in disbelief, rage boiling over. “You’re insane.”
Telavani grinned, her eyes wide with manic glee. “Duh!”
One of the high elves, his hands trembling, tried desperately to crack the ice that entombed their fallen comrades, but he knew it was futile. As the bodies remained trapped beneath the surface, he turned toward Kael’Thas, gripping a dagger tightly. Others followed, their faces twisted with a mix of grief, fury, and resolve.
“Our children are breathing now, but our people are dead because of you,” he spat, voice seething with anger. “You’re right about one thing—you are a coward, a fake, and a manipulator. We stopped being high elves when the Sunwell was destroyed. If blood is our curse, then we will embrace it. From this day forth, we will be Blood Elves. Your kingdom failed us, your people failed the Light, and now you kill your own without a second thought. You are no king of mine.”
Kael’Thas clutched his head, feeling the weight of his failures crushing him. “I saved you!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “If you’d only listened to me, those people would still be alive.”
But the elves were beyond reason. They raised weapons, casting spells that sparked and crackled in the frigid air, their eyes full of contempt. “Please,” Kael’Thas pleaded, his voice faltering. “Don’t make me kill you all. It’s her—the shadow priest! I tried to kill her brother; I did kill her brother. Now she’s out for revenge. If anyone deserves your wrath, it’s her! Who is even speaking now? Is it you, Telavani, or that mad god N’Zoth?”
Telavani—or perhaps N’Zoth—placed her hands on her cheeks, her eyes still glowing an eerie purple. “Ahhh, look at my eyes, Kael’Thas,” she cooed, her voice a mockery of sympathy. “I weep for you; I truly do. With sobs and tears, I sort them out—perhaps the largest size—with my pocket handkerchief before my streaming eyes.”
Kael’Thas looked around, horrified. The children, now monstrous with red eyes and fangs, had awakened and were tearing into whatever living thing they could find on the ice. He watched helplessly as they fed on their own kind. “Great merciful Light,” he whispered, a hand covering his mouth, unable to stomach the scene.
N’Zoth laughed through Telavani, twirling on the blood-stained ice with grotesque delight. “You had a pleasant run,” she taunted, her voice dripping with cruel glee. “Shall we be trotting home again? I said I like to have fun, and this was scarcely odd, because the others are being eaten, everyone.”
Kael’Thas frantically pulled his boat free from the ice and pushed it into the water. As he clambered inside, Telavani approached Taldaram, whispering something in his ear before standing upright. “Take care, Prince Taldaram,” she said sweetly.
The boy, now a prince of a broken people, nodded and waved goodbye, his new red eyes gleaming. Telavani walked across the water with a disturbing grace, no different from any powerful priest, but to Kael’Thas, it was a hollow display, robbed of any meaning. He looked at her with disgust. “Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded, his voice laced with revulsion.
Telavani’s eyes remained a haunting purple as she strolled beside Kael’Thas’s boat, kept in pace by a tentacle that pulled the vessel along effortlessly. “I made a promise, didn’t I?” she said, her voice both hers and not. “Where do you want to go?”
Kael’Thas lowered his head, his voice heavy with defeat. “Home.”
“Silvermoon?” N’Zoth asked, feigning innocence.
Kael’Thas stared at Telavani, his expression drained of hope. “No, my second home—Dalaran. I need to recruit as many of my kind as possible.”
N’Zoth chuckled darkly. “They won’t want to hear that you ran from the invasion.”
Kael’Thas exhaled deeply, a bitter sigh escaping his lips. “We won’t tell them. If I’d killed you, or Telavani, none of this would’ve happened. Let history never speak of this day.”
Telavani—or N’Zoth—smiled faintly, her eyes flickering. “Well, Telavani won’t remember these events once the sun rises. Not in this way, at least.”
As they drifted away, the weight of their sins settled heavily on the cold sea. The past was a nightmare that wouldn’t die, and the future was a shadow that promised only more madness.
Kael’Thas looked at Telavani, whose eyes still glowed faintly. “Will you be back at nightfall? If you’re behind Telavani’s visions, Old God, I could use your insights.”
N’Zoth’s presence lingered through Telavani’s voice. “It’s been entertaining, Prince. But this will be the last time you and I speak, whether or not you receive my insights. That will depend on Telavani. I do enjoy a good tea party with my favorite priest.”
Kael’Thas hesitated. “Should I fear these Lost Ones?”
N’Zoth’s response was casual, almost dismissive. “The Lost Ones don’t concern me much; they will never know who or what I am. My brothers, however… Let’s just say I’m eager to see what unfolds if you manage to achieve your goals.”
Kael’Thas frowned. “You don’t know for sure?”
Telavani’s face twisted in a grin. “Do I seem like a god with all the answers?”
Kael’Thas snorted. “You seem to know how to start a bloodbath.”
N’Zoth chuckled. “Creating chaos is easy. Courage, on the other hand, is when things get truly interesting.”
Kael’Thas shook his head, confused. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
Telavani laughed lightly. “Why not?”
Kael’Thas rubbed his temples. “Aren’t insanity and bravery the same thing?”
Telavani smirked. “Are mania and dementia the same thing?”
Kael’Thas sighed. “No.”
Telavani’s expression grew thoughtful. “They’re two sides of the same coin.”
Kael’Thas pressed on, still searching for answers. “So, are you the shadow opposed to the Light? Is there an Old God of the Light as well?”
Telavani laughed with a hint of madness. “You think I’m locked in some cosmic struggle against the Light? You think I’m just some higher power playing interdimensional chess?”
Kael’Thas frowned. “Well, aren’t you? You said the Sunwell was a bane to your powers.”
Telavani tilted her head, as if considering how much to reveal. “Shadows are my lifeblood, but even I need light to survive, just like everything in the universe. But Light and Shadow aren’t beings of power.”
Kael’Thas furrowed his brow. “Then what are they?”
Telavani’s voice softened, tinged with a strange reverence. “They’re places.”
Kael’Thas blinked, taken aback. “Places? Can I go there?”
N’Zoth’s deep laughter echoed around them, a sound that made the water ripple as if teeming with unseen creatures.
Kael’Thas felt a chill run through him. “What’s so funny?”
Telavani’s body leaned closer, eyes narrowing. “I guard that place, letting in only the young, the familiar, and the utterly insane. I offer glimpses of where they are and what they might take back, but you? You’re not welcome.”
Kael’Thas stared at her, bewildered. “Wonderland… It’s real?”
N’Zoth’s voice was both mocking and strangely proud. “We call it Wonderland. I exist to keep it hidden, to guard its secrets. It’s a place where meanings hide behind other meanings, always elusive, always shifting.”
Kael’Thas felt a rising dread. “The Lost Ones—they came from there, didn’t they? This is all your fault. The portal, Arthas, the invasion of my home—you’re the catalyst for Azeroth’s destruction.”
N’Zoth’s laughter was dark, filled with a twisted joy. “Oh, Kael’Thas, that’s just the icing on the cake. Tell me, when was the last time you desired someone out of pure lust or love? When did you last witness an animal giving birth or mating purely by instinct?”
Kael’Thas frowned, struggling to remember. “I’ve loved before, but war has kept me occupied. Ever since the orcs, everyone’s been preparing for the worst.”
Telavani’s smile twisted. “In Wonderland, death means little. Everything comes back, over and over—unless…”
Kael’Thas leaned in, almost against his better judgment. “Unless what?”
N’Zoth’s voice dropped to a whisper, echoing with ancient malice. “Unless you sever the head. And with each Lost One that enters this world, Wonderland’s rules begin to apply. Imagine, Kael’Thas: what would war mean if death held no finality?”
Kael’Thas could hardly comprehend. “It would be meaningless. People would… I don’t even know.”
N’Zoth’s voice was sly and knowing. “They’d do it for entertainment. That’s what this world will need the Lost Ones for—endless amusement, until they tire of it. And then, maybe, things will return to normal. But not the normal you know. Death will come from a thousand places—disease, neglect, hunger. A world like theirs, where lights flood the sky in rivers of red and white, and cities pierce the heavens. Everything will change in ways you can’t even begin to fathom.”
Kael’Thas stared at Telavani, lost in the nightmare of this twisted prophecy, realizing too late that their world was already slipping beyond his grasp.
Kael’Thas’s expression hardened as he watched Telavani struggle with the truth of her own words. “How can I stop them from coming?” he demanded.
N’Zoth, through Telavani’s form, offered a cold smile. “Live your life peacefully. Abandon your kingdom, your people, and your quest for vengeance. Find a wife, raise a family, focus on feeding them and yourself. Live day by day, prove that the visions I’ve shown you and Telavani are nothing but falsehoods.”
Kael’Thas began to laugh, a bitter, hollow sound. N’Zoth rolled Telavani’s eyes, unimpressed. “Let the undead armies corrupt our lands, let a bastard like Arthas steal our souls, let us be enslaved and slaughtered by others until we fade away. No, Old God. From what I’ve seen today, my people need me now more than ever. I will rebuild my people, stronger than ever, so that no power—undead or Lost One—can challenge us. You think I should lie down and let us become bloodsucking parasites? You’re no better than Arthas. And when I reclaim this world, I’ll come for you and your Wonderland. Can you see that in your visions, Old God?”
N’Zoth, through Telavani’s gave a reductant laugh, “A fool beholds a sage in the mirror, a sage, a fool.”
Telavani’s expression shifted, her eyes losing their eerie glow. She blinked, disoriented, then shook her head. “Kael’Thas, where are we? Where are the people we saved?”
Kael’Thas’s anger flared. “Don’t play games with me, Old God!” he shouted.
Telavani stumbled, falling into the cold ocean before resurfacing, her eyes wide and confused. “Kael’Thas, what are you talking about? How did I get here?”
The light in her eyes was gone, replaced by the soft glow of moonlight and starlight. Kael’Thas pulled her back into the boat, his hand igniting with flame. He held it dangerously close to her face, forcing Telavani to recoil from the searing heat. “That’s awfully close, Kael. Are you trying to dry me off, or roast me alive?”
Kael’Thas stared at her, his expression unreadable. “Telavani, why did we take these smaller boats when we could have taken a larger one?” he asked, still holding the flames uncomfortably close.
Telavani shielded her face with her hands, uneasy. “If we’d taken a large boat, we’d have been attacked by the gargoyles patrolling the shore.”
Kael’Thas extinguished the flames, nodding thoughtfully. “I figured as much.”
Telavani took a shaky breath. “Why?”
Kael’Thas’s gaze was distant, filled with unspoken pain. “Because we were attacked by gargoyles anyway. Your shadow powers saved only the two of us. Your brother… he didn’t make it.”
Telavani’s smile was faint and tinged with sadness. She laughed softly, almost as if she found some cruel irony in it all. She studied Kael’Thas with an unsettling calmness. “I think, from now on, I can accept whatever fate has in store for me.”
Kael’Thas’s anger resurfaced, his eyes narrowing. “Because you think, in the end, you’ll be the one to kill me? Don’t put your faith in the shadows, Telavani. You think I’m going to keep you around like my father did, or worse, fall in love with you because of a few convenient predictions?”
Telavani met his glare, unflinching, a faint smile on her lips, reflecting the madness and resignation that had always danced in her eyes. “Who knows, Kael? The future’s a funny thing.” Telavani clenched her teeth and slammed her hand against the side of the boat. “You think I enjoy the company of a black-hearted, hot-breathed, spoiled brat of a prince? You think I’d prefer the endless whining of an unreasoning, unfeeling hell-raiser? Hardly! You’d need to offer something far better than your pathetic scraps to get my attention.”
Kael’Thas crossed his arms, unfazed by her anger. “Then why are you here, Telavani? What do you want?”
Telavani got right in his face, her voice sharp and venomous as she spat her words. “You don’t even know your own heart, Prince, yet you think you can decipher mine? There’s no method to my madness. You either bow or you overthrow. But you? You’re bound by the walls of Silvermoon and its precious Sunwell, chained to a legacy that’s already dead. You see only tragedy, never the truth, because you’re too blind to see the reality around you.”
Kael’Thas didn’t flinch. He stared her down. “Is this another of your predictions?”
Telavani leaned back, dismissively waving him off. “Madness and destruction, Kael’Thas, that’s what I offer. Don’t waste time asking questions when you already know the answers. It’s bad manners. Make your survival mean something, or we’re all doomed.”
Kael’Thas lowered his arms and leaned in closer. “So now you finally speak plainly. You knew all of this would happen. All of it. But worse, you wanted it to. You hid behind your lies, your riddles, and your little games. You couldn’t just tell my father or me the truth.”
Telavani let out a bitter laugh, her eyes gleaming with a wild fire. “Your father was nothing but a 3,000-year-old baby, safe in his crib of denial. This world isn’t made for children, Kael. It’s raw, ruthless, and tearing itself apart at the seams. Dreamers like him don’t rule—they cling to fantasies. He lived in my shadows while I ruled from behind the curtain. Every time he tried to reclaim control, he just retreated further into his delusions, denying the inevitable destruction of his kingdom.”
She pointed a trembling finger at Kael’Thas, her voice dripping with scorn. “And you—you were on the same path. ‘If she can see the future, does she see us together?’ I’ve seen inside that pathetic head of yours. I wanted to love you, to tear that chip off your shoulder, even if it meant my own death. But you’re just a sniveling child, crying over Jaina Proudmoore. ‘Oh, Jaina doesn’t love me, boo-hoo!’”
“Shut your mouth, shadow witch!” Kael’Thas roared, standing up and striking her across the face.
Telavani staggered back, her hand flying to her cheek, stunned. “Goddess, where are you? The moon’s light is bright, but I feel so drained. My powers… without the Sunwell, I don’t even know if I can command them anymore.”
Kael’Thas’s eyes gleamed with a dangerous satisfaction. “You should have seen yourself minutes ago. So, you can’t use your shadows anymore?”
Telavani shook her head, her defiance replaced by a flicker of fear.
Kael’Thas smirked, that predatory smile Telavani had so often worn herself. He grabbed her by her feet and flipped her into the ocean. Before she could resurface, he unleashed a powerful ice spell, trapping her in a massive block of floating ice.
“I don’t need you, Telavani, or your damned Old God. You always wanted me to kill you—well, now you’ve got your wish. Welcome to your death, Telavani Lovewood.” With one final, cold glare, Kael’Thas charged his magic and vanished, teleporting himself to Dalaran.