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(A/N: I have to come clean to all of you, sometimes I don't even wear pants...........Sometimes I wear shorts.)
Jaina was not a happy woman.
Well, technically she was—but not at the moment!
The past few weeks had been one problem after another.
She had originally planned to stay in Stormwind for an extended time, not only to spend time with her fiancé and her frenemy Alleria, but also to get to know her future home.
A trip that had instead only lasted a month.
Unfortunately, the situation in the north of Arda had been deteriorating more and more lately, with problems regarding the Black Mages, the vile new Plague, Beastkin activity, and growing political tensions.
Jaina was understandably worried—not for her home, though. She knew Kul Tiras was well defended and possessed both a powerful sea fleet and a formidable air force.
What worried her was Dalaran.
Dalaran had recently forgone its neutrality and entered the northern stage once its leaders could no longer ignore the prominent Black Mage presence, as well as the magical nature of the Plague.
Antonidas himself ordered teams to be dispatched both to investigate the situation and hunt down any Black Mages. In fact, this was a rare time when mages and the Church were working together toward a similar goal.
But when the dispatched teams returned with results similar to those of Church personnel, Antonidas—being a ruler himself and knowing far better how dangerous Black Mages could be—began pressuring Terenas to cut his support of Alterac.
If Terenas was forced to back off, then combined with the Church and Dalaran, other nations could also be brought along to side with them to eradicate Black Mages—such as Stormwind, Ironforge, Stromgarde, Aerie Peak, and Kul Tiras.
Unfortunately, Terenas had been very stubborn regarding his past actions, and King Aiden himself was adamant about his sovereignty and refused to back down.
Jaina knew the best thing they could do was find concrete proof of Black Mage activity in Alterac, which would give their side justification to take more drastic steps. Without such proof, war would be a foregone conclusion—among other disastrous outcomes.
After returning to Dalaran, Jaina began using her own talents to help the situation, whether by investigating the Black Guilds or researching the Plague.
She might not have been as monstrously talented as Alastor when it came to magic, but she was still a genius in her own right—especially with Alastor's help in advancing her knowledge and capabilities.
Even if she did not formally hold the title, she was now an Archmage in both power and knowledge.
She did receive some good news, however, when one of Stormwind's SI:7 agents delivered her a vial sent personally by Alastor—a suppressant capable of halting the Plague within its recipients while also preventing its spread through normal means.
By the Aspects, she loved that man. No matter how bad the situation, she could always trust him to pull through in some way, even when he didn't have to.
She quickly delivered the vial to Antonidas, who was shocked upon seeing its effects before laughing proudly at witnessing his greatest student pull through once again.
News of the suppressant spread quickly, and many people were eager to hear of it after the northern fiascos. At the very least, effective quarantine zones could now be established.
Not to mention that Plague victims could be safely approached—and kept alive—until a cure was found.
Dalaran, Kul Tiras, Stromgarde, and—surprisingly—Gilneas as well began production and distribution of the suppressant.
Jaina herself led a large convoy filled not only with the suppressant but also with supplies directly into Lordaeron from Dalaran.
This allowed her not only to help distribute aid but also to take a firsthand look at the situation in the largest human kingdom—and perhaps uncover clues leading to the Black Mage leadership.
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Jaina and her convoy arrived in the town of Darrowshire. She ordered her men to distribute supplies while she headed to the town hall to meet her contact.
Her eyes widened as she was pleasantly surprised to see who stood beside the town's mayor.
"By the Light, I did not expect it to be you, lass!" Uther himself looked surprised before laughing happily. He dismissed the town's mayor to oversee the supplies while he spoke with Jaina.
"The feeling's mutual, Lord Uther—but honestly, a pleasant surprise nonetheless." Jaina smiled as she shook hands with the legendary paladin before they both sat at the hall's table.
"I've brought supplies as well as large contingents of the suppressant medication, ready for distribution in all areas you might need. Other convoys will handle the remaining affected regions."
"Thank the Holy Light. I truly owe you a great deal for this, Princess Proudmoore. We were desperate for good news."
"Think nothing of it—and if you must thank anyone, thank Alastor. He's the one who created the suppressant and will likely produce a cure once he resolves some matters in the south."
"So it's Alastor, huh? Then I really do owe that boy a lot. He's done much for our nation while remaining on the other side of the continent, keeping the monsters there at bay."
Jaina frowned slightly in confusion.
"I understand your concern, but I doubt a few Warherds will pose much trouble for Alastor. If anything, I'm certain he's already broken them at Stranglethorn Vale."
Now it was Uther's turn to look confused as realization dawned on him.Oh, sweet Light… she doesn't know.
"Lady Jaina, you are aware of the latest news from the south, right?" Uther coughed awkwardly, trying to ease into the topic.
"Perhaps not the latest. I've been busy with my research and then leading the convoy. Why? Has something happened?"
"Princess… I don't quite know how to say this, but—Grimgor Ironhide has resurfaced."
"WHAT!?" Jaina dropped her goblet, staring at him in shock as Azeroth's green boogeyman resurfaced in her mind.
"Fear not!" Uther said quickly. "From what I've heard, Alastor himself has faced him with his army."
"HE'S WHAT!?" Jaina paled at the thought of the man she loved—her fiancé—facing the most violent and destructive Orc warboss in recorded history.
She was moments away from placing someone else in charge of the convoy and taking the fastest transport south.
Great job, Uther, he scolded himself. You just told her her future husband is facing the Orc with the highest hero kill count in history.
"Jaina, you don't need to worry. Alastor and his forces have already repelled them. In fact, Alastor faced Grimgor on equal footing—the first in history to do so."
"I understand your concern, but by the time you reached him, the matter would likely already be resolved. Have faith in the lad. I may not have known him as long as you have, but he's reliable."
That finally calmed Jaina somewhat. She sighed and nodded, knowing it was better to focus on her duties and trust Alastor to overcome this challenge as well.
"Thank you, Uther."
"Think nothing of it."
Finally they went back to discussing about the situation in Lordaeron and Jaina frowned at what she heard by Uther.
The Church and Menethil family were in a very strained relationship due to recent events if not for Arthas the two would have cut off any cooperation and went along with their own agendas.
The Northern battlefield being led by General Abbendis due to insufficient support was not able to fully hold back the Warherds which caused havoc in the area between Lordaeron and Quel'thalas.
The Plague had also begun appearing in cities but Uther reassured now with the suppressants they could begin effective quarantine procedures and contain the Plague allowing the Church to put all of it's resources in rooting out the Black mages.
They both eventually decided to temporarily travel together to the convoy's next stop, the city of Darry where Arthas was also headed from what Uther last heard.
Jaina did not know how to feel about potentially meeting Arthas unlike Alastor she was fairly certain she knew the reason why Arthas had become estranged.
It had taken some time but she eventually understood that the way Arthas looked at her was beyond that of a friend and maybe for a time there could have been something between them.
But then she met her fellow apprentice Alastor and it wasn't long before she took a liking to him which eventually transformed into genuine love.
Effectively destroying any chance of a relationship between her and Arthas.
Her mother had told her that she had no reason to feel guilt since she did not have anything going with Arthas at the time beyond friendship nor did she give him any so called "hints".
But that didn't stop Jaina from feeling a bit bad since she did consider Arthas a good friend and hoped with the passing time he would heal and move on with his life.
Maybe even give her and Alastor his blessing?
(A/N: Believe me this is for character development! I'm not deliberately pouring gallons of salt on the wound.)
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Uther and Jaina's forces were traveling along the road to Darry when suddenly the convoy came to a halt.
Inside her armored transport, Jaina frowned as the window connecting to the driver's seat slid open.
"Lady Jaina… you might want to see this."
Her frown deepened as she exited the transport and saw that Uther had done the same from his own vehicle. Together, they looked ahead.
Up ahead stood the city of Darry, home to millions.
It was burning.
Black smoke rose thickly into the sky.
Expecting the worst, Jaina ordered the convoy into defensive formation. She took a contingent of battle mages alongside Uther, who led his own force of paladins and priests, as they advanced toward the city.
They expected an attack by Black Mages, demons, or even Beastkin—but when they reached Darry, they instead saw Arthas.
He and his forces stood on a cliff overlooking the burning city.
"Arthas!" Uther bellowed as he strode forward, Jaina only a few steps behind him. "Boy! What happened here!? Was there an attack?"
"Master? Jaina?" Arthas looked at them in surprise, but he couldn't meet their eyes.
Jaina noticed that Arthas's soldiers and knights appeared similarly uneasy, while the priests and paladins among them looked openly angry as they stared at him.
A bad feeling settled in her chest.
Uther waited for an answer—but it came not from Arthas, but from the lead priestess amongst Arthas forces.
"Lord Uther, there was no attack from Beastkin or Black Mages. Prince Arthas ordered the town burned while everyone was still inside."
The priestess spoke Arthas's name with disgust. Uther stared at her in shock, then silently called upon the Holy Light. He felt no falsehood.
"ARTHAS!" Uther roared. "Is this true!? Why would you sentence millions to death!?"
"I had to!" Arthas protested. "The Black Mages had infected the city's grain supply with the Plague. Darry was a major trading hub—there was no time to separate or identify the infected. If trade resumed, the Plague could have spread to other cities… even the capital."
Jaina stared at him in disbelief.
"Are you insane? You were informed that we were coming with supplies—and with large quantities of ready-to-use suppressants."
"Even if separation took time, we could have dosed the entire population. The suppressant isn't harmful to the uninfected. The city could have been quarantined and the contaminated grain destroyed."
Arthas's expression darkened. "And what proof did we have that they worked? As far as I know, this was the first shipment bound for Lordaeron. We couldn't be sure they were effective."
Jaina's annoyance flared. "Of course they work. The suppressant was made by Alastor—"
Something snapped inside Arthas.
"WHY ARE YOU SO OBSESSED WITH ALASTOR!?"
His outburst echoed across the cliff.
"Do you even hear yourself!? You act as though Alastor can do no wrong—as if every word he speaks is the Light's own gospel!"
"Why should I place the fate of my people in the hands of a foreign prince!? He isn't even royal by blood—just a stray the King of Stormwind took in on a whim!"
"Is he even human!? He displays inhuman abilities constantly, and instead of questioning it, you all worship him!"
"So tell me—WHY should I trust my people's lives to a fake royal who is the furthest thing from one of our kind!?"
The moment Arthas stopped speaking, he realized what he had done.
The damage was irreversible.
Paladins and priests behind Uther—and among Arthas's own ranks—glared at him openly. To them, Alastor was the Church's newest Saint, admired for both his character and conduct.
The mages behind Jaina glared just as fiercely. Alastor was revered within the magical community for his immense contributions and mastery of the arcane—contributions that had revolutionized mage training and drastically reduced casualties among apprentices and low-ranking mages.
Even Arthas's own soldiers and knights averted their gazes, unable to reconcile the prince they once admired with the man before them.
But the worst were Uther and Jaina.
Uther stared at Arthas as though he no longer recognized his student.
Jaina's face, however, turned completely cold. She withdrew a suppressant syringe from her robes.
"Do you know how this was made?"
She didn't wait for a response.
"Alastor created it because he was worried about the people of the north—and because he felt a sense of responsibility through his ties to the Church and to your sister, Calia."
"But the main reason… was you."
Arthas felt as though he'd been punched in the gut.
"That 'freak' and 'stray' still considers you a friend. Not once did he stop wondering if he had done something to upset you."
"He believed this could help the north—and serve as a peace offering to you."
"And this is how you see him in return?"
Her voice dripped with disdain.
"You are not worthy of his consideration."
Something inside Arthas cracked.
Uther spoke quietly, his gaze fixed on the burning city.
"Do you regret it?"
Arthas looked at his mentor in confusion.
"Tell me you regretted it. Tell me you truly believed this was the only way—that you didn't slaughter millions simply out of arrogance."
Arthas wanted to say he regretted it. Wanted to cling to the approval of the man he idolized.
But Uther could sense lies—and worse, pride still festered within him.
"…Someone had to make the hard decisions."
Uther closed his eyes.
"No. You made the decision that best suited your pride, even when better alternatives existed—if only you had asked for help."
"You were once my pride, Arthas. When your father brought you to me, many of my brethren advised against accepting you—seeing only a pampered prince."
"But I believed I saw something greater."
"I believed you would become not just a great king, but a warrior who embodied the Light—bringing justice and honor to Azeroth."
"You proved me wrong, Arthas. So very wrong."
Uther's shoulders sagged as disappointment overtook him.
"Master, please—try to understand. I only did what I thought was best—"
"I am no longer your master," Uther said firmly.
"Arthas Menethil, I, Uther Lightbringer, hereby declare you excommunicated from the Church of the Holy Light and the Knights of the Silver Hand."
"Until you cleanse the innocent blood from your hands through your actions—and strengthen your spirit—you are no longer worthy of the title of Paladin, let alone brother of the Silver Hand."
Arthas stood in despair, unable to beg.
Uther and Jaina turned away, leading their forces back toward the convoy. The paladins and priests who had followed Arthas joined them without a backward glance.
Even his soldiers remained silent—believing the judgment just.
The fracture widened.
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Arthas and his remaining forces took refuge in a neighboring town, where temporary lodgings were arranged. Arthas sat alone in a spacious room, slumped on the bed as the day replayed endlessly in his mind.
Yet despite everything, as though guided by an unseen hand, his thoughts twisted toward a single name.
It's his fault.
If he hadn't existed, no one would have eclipsed you.
Your mentor's respect. The princess's love. The people's adoration. Your destiny.
All stolen by him.
Arthas's thoughts spiraled as the voices grew louder. His lips trembled as he uttered a name he had sworn never to speak.
"…Malak."
The room seemed to darken.
In an instant, a pale, amber-eyed man stood before him—the leader of the Black Mages—smiling.
"I need power," Arthas whispered. "How much can you give me?"
"Enough to make you a demigod in your own right," Malak replied smoothly. "All I ask is your help in bringing enlightenment to Azeroth."
He extended his hand.
"So… do we have a deal?"
Malak already knew the answer.
After a moment, Arthas clasped his hand.
"Deal."
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