User:Peregrine2976/Fanfiction/The Fall of Azjol'Nerub/Part Eight

Part Eight The hurried departure of Malygos’ domain took them, maybe, half an hour. Ajar’Zarak was relieved when he no longer felt the aspect’s influence. Ordering a halt for the Nerubians to catch their breath, he took this opportunity to carefully inspect the refugees. He made sure everyone was well-fed, ensured that no one was carrying too little or too much, and gave orders that the infirm be cared for at this brief interlude.

As he inspected the last of the refugees, he suddenly straightened and look around carefully. “Where is the Emperor?”

A nearby elite ordered several guards to search the surrounding area. When they returned empty-handed, Ajar’Zarak’s alarm grew stronger. Ordering his elites to fan out and search the countryside, he himself remained with the refugees, trying to ascertain exactly when Anub’Arak had disappeared.

The sun, which had been high over their head at just past noon, slowly slipped down towards the horizon. At last, his elites returned. There was no sign of the recently crowned Emperor.

Cursing silently, Ajar’Zarak had no choice but to order them onwards. They must reach Iceclaw Peak by sundown. He called the refugees to a gathering.

“It is true, what many of you have heard,” he shouted. “The Emperor has gone missing.” Overriding the sudden outbreak of dismayed whispers, he shouted, “I will take temporary command of this expedition until the fate of the Emperor can be ascertained. We go on to Iceclaw Peak!”

Seemingly confidently, but with doubt in their eyes, the refugees prepared to move out. Facing the North, Ajar’Zarak and his elites marched towards the ancient fortress of Iceclaw Peak.

Built during the elder days of his race as a last defense against some unforeseen cataclysm, the fortress was always kept well-armed. But no circumstance had ever been so dire as to force the Nerubian people above ground. In fact, “being sent to the Peak” became a metaphor among the guard, meaning that the Nerubian in question was shortly to be removed from the guard.

Still, the fortress was mighty, and it was nigh impossible to take without extensive knowledge of its pathways and tunnels. Built on the very peak of a mountain that reared up into the sky out of the center of Icecrown Glacier, it was the final defense and greatest stronghold of the Nerubian people.

At last, clearing the final ridge on the path to fortress, Ajar’Zarak beheld the fortress that had been the final hope for the refugees.

And he could not believe his eyes.

On the ground below, thousands of Nerubians dotted the ground. But they were not facing out from the mountain – they were facing towards it. It was clear from where he stood that the Nerubians were laying siege to their own fortress.

“By Sargeras’ beard!” gasped Aran’Jakur. “The fortress has been taken!”

“But by who?” asked a nearby elite.

Ajar’Zarak thought he knew who had taken it. He could feel, almost see, a dominating will emanating from… within the peak of the mountain. He could sense it rippling outwards towards the corners of Northrend. It encompassed the entire continent.

Though his skill with the Legacy Stone was minimal, he held it up and silently demanded that he be shown what had taken up residence within the peak. To his slight surprise, the stone responded.

In his mind, Ajar’Zarak beheld a terrifyingly familiar sight: The helmet and breastplate trapped in an icy coffin. He saw the beginning of it all – he saw the icy coffin fall from the sky like a falling star, saw it smash through the peak of Iceclaw Peak, saw this creature bit by bit gain dominion of creatures both dead and alive… and into his mind, the Legacy Stone put a single title.

Lich King.

He felt the taint of dark magicks coursing through the coffin, felt the indomitable will of this… Lich King… emanating from it. It was-

“Overseer?”

Ajar’Zarak shook himself. Aran’Jakur was looking at him strangely.

“Yes?”

“You… you were convulsing. We thought you were having a fit.”

Ajar’Zarak suddenly realized that he was on the ground. He stood up.

“I’m… I’m fine.”

Staring across at the Peak, he silently challenged this Lich King to send all its might against him. Then he turned to his elites.

“Come… we must aid our brethren!” And so saying, he turned and raced down the steep cliff towards the Nerubian soldiers.

They were well-accepted. The sight of the overseer of the elites, accompanied by thirty or so of his finest, was a welcome sight to the bedraggled Nerubian soldiers.

“What happened here?” demanded Ajar’Zarak.

“We don’t know, revered overseer,” answered the captain who had greeted him. “We simply woke up one morning to find that undead had tunneled up underneath us. The fortress was lost within hours.”

“How long ago?”

“About three weeks.”

“And why was the imperial council not advised of this?”

“We sent messengers by the dozens, overseer!”

“Well, none of them reached the empire… damned Horrors must have killed them.” Ajar’Zarak hesitated. “Have you seen any sign of Anub’Arak?”

“The high councilor?” The captains face registered distaste. Ajar’Zarak almost smiled. It seemed his feelings about Anub’Arak were not so unique as he had thought. “No, overseer. There has been no sign. Why?” “Because,” Ajar’Zarak said through gritted teeth. “The Emperor disappeared earlier today.”

It took the Captain a moment to comprehend. “That cretin was crowned Emperor!?”

At that Ajar’Zarak did smile, however faintly. “Yes, captain, that cretin is indeed the Emperor of Azjol’Nerub… what is left of it, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” this time it was the Captain’s turn to speak sharply.

Ajar’Zarak told him the story. “It seems impossible,” said the Captain, shaking his head. “But I don’t see how it could be anything but truth after what has happened here. Your presence alone very nearly confirms it.” He sighed. “I must get back to my men. Will you join us in taking back the stronghold?”

“We have no choice, Captain. We must.”

“True enough, I suppose. Farewell, overseer.” He smashed his fist against his breastplate in a salute, then hurried off towards his troops.

For the next few days, Ajar’Zarak and his elites joined with the Nerubian soldiers in attempting to retake the fortress, but to no avail. Little by little, the soldiers were killed, until only a third of their original number remained. Most of Ajar’Zarak’s elites had remained alive, however. It was late one night that the final breaking of the siege came. The breaking of the siege, and the breaking of the Nerubian people.

Ajar’Zarak slept uneasily, his dreams again filled with nightmarish horrors. However this time, in addition to the human, the Lich King, and the three powerful entities, he saw also a Nerubian. The Nerubian was in the garb of the Emperor, but from it emanated the same sense of death that permeated the Horrors.

He woke with a start. There were fires outside his tent, and screams. He whipped out his twin katana blades and the Legacy Stone, and he exited the tent.

Almost as soon as his head was out of the flap, two burly horrors seized him. The Stone was torn from his grasp. Then he was dragged towards the edge of the camp, where he was deposited on the ground.

“So, overseer…” Ajar’Zarak started. He knew that voice. But no… it couldn’t be…

“You thought to challenge the will of the Lich King? To remain free of his glorious mastership? You have fallen, as all who fight him will fall.” The voice was hollow, like that of the Horrors, but still Ajar’Zarak recognized it… recognized it as the voice of…

“Anub’Arak,” Ajar’Zarak spat. “How did they take you?” Anub’Arak smiled arrogantly. “I was not taken… I gave myself to the glorious leadership of the Lich King.”

Ajar’Zarak’s ears rang, and his heart pounded. “Why?”

“Because now I am immortal, and because now I can at last have the power that you, a lesser being, have carried for so long!” He examined the Legacy Stone almost distractedly, which Ajar’Zarak now saw he held. “Tell me, how did you discover the secrets of this artifact?”

“You fool!” shouted Ajar’Zarak. “The Stone will only serve to free the Ancient Ones from their imprisonment! You would doom the entire world!”

“Oh no, revered overseer…” Anub’Arak enunciated the honorific deliberately, with sarcasm. “In the hands of the Lich King, this Stone cannot be bent to any will but his own…”

Just as he was about to reply, he heard a great roar. Turning, he saw his elites charging the undead that flanked Anub’Arak. They drove into their midst like a lightning bolt, and the undead seemed to melt against their sudden furious onslaught.

And Ajar’Zarak saw his chance.

Just as Anub’Arak turned, distracted, Ajar’Zarak sprang towards him, grabbed the Legacy Stone out of his startled grasp, and pointed it at him. Just as he was about to unleash the power that would obliterate the traitorous Emperor forever, however, the voices whispering in his mind grew to unbearable pitch and height. Screaming in pain, Ajar’Zarak dropped to the ground. As soon as he stopped using the Stone, the voices dropped into silence again.

Turning, he roared at his elites, who would soon be overwhelmed, “Retreat!” He then ran towards a nearby rock, jumped off the rock and over the heads of the Horrors, and landed amongst his fleeing elites. Together, he and his elites pelted for the hills. The Horrors pursued them, but they were soon left behind by the superbly-running elites.

All night they hid in the lightly forested snowy hills, and when morning dawned, they were finally confident that there were no Horrors pursuing them any more.

Ascending to the top of a cliff, Ajar’Zarak looked sadly upon the shattered remnants of his people. None living were left on Icecrown Glacier. Though no doubt some would have escaped into the hills, like him and his elites, many were dead. Including his brave and loyal second, Aran’Jakur, who had been killed when he had led the attack that had liberated Ajar’Zarak and reclaimed the Legacy Stone from Anub’Arak.

Of two things Ajar’Zarak was certain. One was that he could never again use the Stone. Its power seemed to be growing, and to use it could be perilous. Not just for him, but for the entire world.

The second was that he and his people, though broken, would survive. They would live with fear and pain, in the hilly wilderness, but they would survive.

Deliberately turning his back on the gristly scene, he led his elites into the wilderness to forge a new beginning.

<<< Part VII --- Epilogue >>>