Now that was a waste of a pretty good banana!
"The banana was rotten, Teia. You wouldn't have eaten it," I said quietly.
Well still, she shouldn't have thrown it at you. Now your armor is ruined!
"It's okay. Really." It was just a banana, after all.
The refugees made their way up to the gates and into the streets of the city. Some galloped past, hoping to evade the ugly looks with speed. But most went as slowly and non-threateningly as they possibly could, blades sheathed, helm strapped on... eyes downcast. I was part of this latter group, and it seemed our docility encouraged the mob to be bold.
"TRAITOROUS DOG!" cried one Stormwind guard amidst the jeers and catcalls of the crowd. Aristeia was bristling with indignation at everything but she, like we, could do nothing for the moment.
When we caught up with those who went ahead, we found them crowding at the final bend just before the actual keep; we had the letter after all. Market crowds and the small contingent of guards may have been able to fling insults with rotten fruit, but they were not brave enough to attack the group. But inside the keep were the King's crack troops and we had no intention of fighting.
Suddenly, from one of the houses, a woman ran towards us, arms raised. "Monster!" she cried. "My family... My family was wiped out by the Scourge!" She pounded her fists on the nearest armored chest. A young man (maybe her son) was trying to pull her away.
"Damn you all! Damn you! Bring them back!"
No ma'am... you would not want them brought back. I know that much.
Three months ago, I was brought back against my will. Or, at least, I know I was brought back from some previous life, but my memories only start now from the moment I realized I was lying on a cold stone floor. How long had I been lying there? I don't know... but I gradually began to think that maybe I should get off the floor and try to stand up. I remember feeling something flowing slowly over my body, gradually spreading from my head to my limbs, even before I could do anything but stir. When I finally pushed myself off the ground I was too weak to stand, so I kneeled where I was and brought my head up.
The first thing I remember seeing in that blackness was the bright blue of crystal armor and a cold face peering at me.
"How goes it?" the face quietly asked. I remember seeing two darkly clad ladies nearby.
"She seems to remember nothing," one of them replied, after waving a hand over my face. "But we'll know for sure soon enough."
"Place upon it the trappings befitting a herald of Arthas," said the face. What was left of my clothes were roughly torn off by one of the dark ladies, then the other helped me into my new clothes. Her manner in handling the dark trappings was slow and reverent. When this was done, the Face waved her away and stepped to where I was. I was about to ask where I was—who I was—when his voice boomed in that hollow chamber.
"Alright, that's enough! Listen, death knight... Listen for the voice of your master. He calls you now. Stand and be measured! Rise, for your master awaits your arrival." For the briefest moment I looked into his eyes, and he glared into mine, before he snarled "GO NOW!"
His voice reverberated through me, and before I could even think about what I was doing, I was running down the corridor he indicated. I met other darkly clad figures as I ran. I saw winged creatures and hideous shapes in the darkness. I ran until I felt rain on my cheeks and then stopped. I knew I was outside, but it was taking a while for my eyes to adjust. Gradually, I saw a dark figure leaning over the balcony, gauntleted hands gripping the rails.
I did not feel any sort of terror as the dark figure turned to face me. I felt empty... hollow. I was there but nowhere. All feeling and emotion was bled out of me. All that existed on that balcony was him and his sharp sword. All that existed in my head were a jumble of muttered and whispered thoughts, all meaningless—none that I can make out.
Finally, the thoughts formed into words, "All that I am: anger, cruelty, vengeance - I bestow upon you, my chosen knight. I have granted you immortality so that you may herald in a new, dark age for the Scourge."
The dark figure then beckoned me to where he stood. Again, thoughts coalesced into words… something about the Plaguelands and a Scarlet Crusade, seething anger towards a chapel... at that time, it was not so clear and I made no attempt to understand. I knew I had to obey. I heard his sword’s metallic ring before I saw it.
I faced him, looking at the blade pointed at my heart. I think I felt a twinge of fear then, but I was startled when I heard his hissing voice for the first time coming from underneath the dark helmet. "You will become my force of retribution. Where you tread, doom will follow. Go now and claim your destiny, death knight."
A slap brought me out of my reverie. "Where's my Allan?! Where is he? Where are they? Bring them back!" The woman finally sank onto the cobblestones, sobbing pitifully, her son still trying to pull her away. I reflexively reached out to help her up but young man slaps my hand away, then spits into my face.
Aristeia hissed indignantly.
"Don't you dare," he said. "Don't you dare! You... you and your kind... you disgust me!"
As he led the woman away, from a window above us, another woman shrieked. "Just go away! Leave us alone, will you? Just go away!"
The death knight who was first attacked by the grieving woman suddenly called out, "Column formation, two abreast. Now."
We were well trained, and in the blink of an eye, we were transformed from a band of refugees into a fighting unit once again. I found myself beside him as we rode the final distance to the keep. "Edgar," I asked. "Are you alright?"
"She lost her son and he lost a brother," he said, his voice distant, not even listening to me. "Poor people... I am so sorry."
"How did you know that? She told you, did she?" I asked. Edgar looked confused.
"Hmmmmmm... no. No, she did not."
"Then how did you know?" I asked again. "I'm not sure... I don't know how... I just know." I understood—all death knights had fleeting glimpses of past lives and familiar memories just out of reach.
We dismounted in front of the guards and held our hands up. One of us (the letter bearer) stepped forward and proclaimed that we were seeking an audience with the King and that we bore a letter from Sir Tirion Fordring.
"You are expected!" cried their captain. "But not welcome! Proceed! I warn you to make no attempt to draw your accursed blades!"
As we marched up the long hallway, we heard mutterings amongst the gathered nobles. "Looks like we're going to have ourselves an execution... or several!" chuckled one of them. Aristeia hissed again.
Great! Just great! I thought we were all finally on the same side!
"That's enough, Teia!" I whispered. "Let's wait and see what happens after King Varian reads the letter.”
We watched as the letter was handed to the armored and armed king, and we awaited our doom.
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