Prelude

[Jinjinn]

Prelude


Chapter 1


The imp glanced over to the corner of the dilapidated shack eager to see if his “master” had yet made any progress. This time things were different. This time the old hermit was finally dead.


“Well, that sure took you long enough,” the tiny demon said mockingly.


From across the table the labored breathing of the high elf had begun to abate, a look of bliss played across his young face. “That was delicious,” the elf said to the imp. “His life, his soul, completely consumed... and look!” Holding out his arm to his sulfurous companion he opened his hand to reveal a small purple crystal.


“Excellent,” the imp responded, excitedly jumping about the small one room hut, “Now you are ready for her.” The tiny being hopped up on the rotten table next to the elf and added with a maniacal grin, “Though it would be a shame if your wife finds out.”


“No,” the quel'dorei replied, “The succubus can wait until tomorrow. Mastering this new technique has left me fatigued and besides, I can't be away for too long. I don't want to draw suspicion.”


“Later then,” the imp interjected. “We have very little time left. You must learn how to call her forth.”


The elf quickly bundled his belongings back into his pack giving special care to the shard he had just created. Looking back to the imp he said, “Chouri, your services will no longer be required today,” and with a snap of his fingers the demon began to fade from sight.


“Hey, wai...”


Finally alone, Al'uen pulled a rune from his cloak, mumbled a silent incantation over it and likewise faded from sight, leaving behind a corpse as the only witness to the budding warlock's crime.



The young mage's studies had met with many setbacks during his time at Dalaran. For example, at a state dinner to honor King Menethil, a spell Al'uen had cast to levitate candles above the banquet table faltered in the middle of dinner causing burning tapers to fall upon those in attendance. Despite his drive and ambition, as well as his people's natural affinity for the arcane arts, Al'uen simply did not possess the aptitude to be a great mage. His instructors recognized his shortcomings yet his passion for the art always persuaded them to allow his studies to continue. What his teachers failed to notice was that many of his accomplishments, meager though they may have been, were secretly bolstered or outright performed by his closest friend, San'thiel Sunbow, one of the shining stars of the Violet Citadel. Not even Al'uen himself knew this. Though many people humored him, few held high expectations for him. His wife, however, was an exception.


Ka'lia was a simple woman whose concerns rarely amounted to anything greater than mundane matters such as what color of flowers she should plant, or how much time she should spend visiting the Sunwell. Her world was the beauty of Quel'thalas. Her world was complete. What happened beyond its borders was none of her affair. At home in her eternal spring there was nothing that she needed save her husband. Though apart, she took solace in the knowledge that once Al'uen permanently returned from Dalaran, her home would be made only the more beautiful for his great mastery of the arcane arts. Many months would be spent separated from her beloved, but the recent birth of their son had given her a physical testament of their love, and a piece of him to cling to during his time away in a foreign land.



"..ait of minute!"



Banished back home by his new master's whim, Chouri found himself upon the steps leading up to a massive and nearly complete dimensional gateway. The Stair of Destiny would introduce Al'uen's world to a level of destruction unseen there for millennia. The Shadow Council sent many demons into Azeroth prior to the opening of the portal, hopeful that they would find parties interested in their goals, as well as those easily tempted by the lure of power and conquest. Those that accepted were given instructions, those that refused quietly disappeared.


Like many of his kind, Chouri had been drawn to Dalaran due to its extensive and pervasive magical aura. There he found no shortage of potential allies. At first he had hope to dig his claws into San'thiel Sunbow. His exceptional ability to wield arcane energies made him a tempting target for the imp, but his humility and purity of heart gave Chouri cause to be concerned. Hopeful that he might find an exploitable weakness, the imp continued to follow him from afar and watched as San'thiel furthered his studies at the Citadel. It was during one such moment of surveillance, while San'thiel tutored Al'uen in the art of portal creation, that Chouri first took notice of the one who would become his new master.


The imp saw in the floundering mage a pride that he knew he could use to his advantage. Chouri knew that Al'uen's misplaced confidence in his own talents could be turned against him. All the imp needed to do was trick the unsuspecting mage into believing he was more powerful than he imagined himself to be. Such a ruse would open the door to revealing himself to his new master. In fact, it was in the literal opening of a door that Chouri made his move.

"And that," San'thiel said, "is how you open a portal to Stormwind."

"Thank you, my friend. I think I can manage doing so by myself now," responded Al'uen with a sheepish grin. "I only wish I could have figured it out the first time."

Chouri watched as the more talented of the two mages left his friend to reflect upon the lesson and practice in the privacy of his chamber. Al'uen began to chant the words of power that would reopen the shimmering dimensional gateway to the human kingdom far to the south. Within moments the portal reappeared, but quickly began to waver only to fade seconds later. Chouri slipped from the shadows and jumped behind the portal as it was about to collapse. The portal was gone, but standing before Al'uen was the grinning imp.

"Master, Oh Master, what is it that you wish of me?" the imp said obsequiously.

"What?" Al'uen replied incredulously. He quickly began to chant a spell for protection, but before he had a chance to finish, Chourli interrupted.

"You have pulled me by your great power from the Twisting Nether. I am yours to command."

"My power brought you here?" the befuddled mage asked.

The imp smiled, his prey took the bait.

"You must be a warlock of great renown amongst your people." Chouri continued, "It will be an honor to serve you."

Al'uen shook his head, "I am no warlock, you fowl demon. Begone, before I call for the guards to deal with you."

Apparently the mage had more resolve than the imp had given him credit for. Chouri dropped his act. "No... you aren't a warlock. You are a mere apprentice mage, and not even a very good one at that." The imp approached the mage and with a wicked smile he continued, "There is no place for you in the world to come save perhaps for in a mass grave, but you do have potential if properly cultivated. I can show you wonders you've never imagined in your wildest flights of self-delusion. I can teach you magics that can turn the mightiest titan into a sniveling child at your feet." Al'uen listened on intently to what the imp was saying, "You can remain an infective wizard condemned to casting minor glamors on the burnt remains of your homeland, or you can become a master warlock and bring order to the chaos that my kind will bring to this world."

Al'uen was aghast. "I am an elf of conscience. I would never ally myself with the forces of evil."

"An elf of conscience?" the imp asked rhetorically. "I have watched you long enough to know that you are no such thing. The only reason you have never challenged those who've stood in your way is because you know you are too feeble to overcome them. But what if you could?"

The mage, ashamed at the revelations occurring in his head, looked down at the floor of his chamber and remained silent.

"So what will it be, elf: mediocrity or glory?"

The elf knelt down to ground and looked at the imp face to face. "How do we begin?" he asked.

Now two months later, Chouri had succeeded in getting Al'uen to take life and soul for the sake of furthering his craft, but time was running out. The invasion was soon to begin and his superiors where pressuring the imp for effective agents to infiltrate the infrastructure of Azerothian society. The ritual for summoning a succubus would secure Al'uen's commitment to the path of the warlock, but the imp knew he needed something more from Al'uen if he was to be made into a reliable pawn for the Legion. The warlock's spirit needed to be broken.

Looking back towards the Stair of Destiny, the imp gave a sigh. "Back to work," he exclaimed rather exhaustedly. He needed to return to Dalaran before his master did, and he still had much to prepare.


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Chapter 2


The Hall of Doors was the name given by students to the large chamber located at the base of the Violet Citadel. It contained the majority of Dalaran's dimensional portals to sites throughout Azeroth. It was also the focal point of most teleportation recall spells that targeted the city of mages. Traffic through this hub was busy at all times of the day, so no one took notice when Al'uen faded into view. The young warlock nervously surveyed the chamber. Since beginning his fel studies under the tutelage of Chouri, the warlock lived under constant fear of being exposed. He had no desire to be deported back to Quel'thalas with dishonor as his only claim to fame. He reached his hand into the simple woolen bag slung across his shoulder. A cold crystal point danced across his finger tips. He had done it. The life of an old forgotten hermit was now his to do with as he wished. Soon he would have a new and far more powerful, not to mention beautiful, minion at his disposal. Oh, and what wonders she would show him.

It would be a shame if your wife finds out.

The imp's words echoed through his mind. He turned his thoughts to Ka'lia. For weeks Chouri had revealed more of the Burning Legion's plans for Azeroth, and with each horrible prophecy of doom Al'uen became increasingly aware that his wife could never be at peace in such a world. At first, he doubted the imp's revelations, believing he had been tricked into thinking there was no hope save through his deal with the demon. But when Chouri, escorted him on a dangerous trek through the region known as the Black Morass, he saw first hand that the imp spoke the truth. The Dark Portal was nearly complete, and the size of the forces that could pass through its span would be formidable. Al'uen came to believe that the only way he could ensure stability to the lives of his wife and son, was by being part the new order as the old one was swept away. He was not convinced his wife would agree with his logic.

The secret warlock made his way to the Grand Staircase that lead up the main spire of the Citadel. He needed get to his chamber before San'thiel arrived there to offer his insights on frost nova spells. Stepping on the landing of his floor, he peered down the hallway to see if the way was clear. He didn't fear being noticed, since students were free to come and go as they wished, especially students who were foreign guests such as himself. What worried Al'uen was the possibility of letting loose a slip of the tongue that might shed light on his activities. He approached the door to his chamber, unlocked it and entered.

"Hello there, Master," a voice said from within, venom dripping with every syllable.

"Chouri!" the elf said with no little surprise. "How? What are you doing here?"

The imp jumped upon the warlock's bed and made himself comfortable. "I told you that we were running out of time. I've decided to accelerate your progress."

"How can you be here? I dismissed you," the elf demanded.

The imp cackled wickedly. "What power you have over me has only been what my true masters have permitted. You have done well enough up till now, but my superiors are not yet convinced of your commitment to our cause. They want you to summon your succubus immediately."

"Is that all?" Al'uen asked, "Fine then, let's get this ov..."

"Not so fast, little elf," Chouri interrupted, "There are some prerequisites that must be met before she will ally herself with you." The demon sat up and grinned, he wanted to savor the next few moments. "The initial ritual for summoning a succubus requires the heart from a being capable of great goodness or selfless love. You will need to carve the living heart out of the individual's chest, and with the soul shard you gained from the that old fool in the mountains, you will call her forth and force her to submit to your will." The imp looked his apprentice up and down as if sizing him up. "So, do you think you have what it takes, little elf? Can you rip the still beating heart out of a pure, innocent soul?"

"W...well...certainly," Al'uen stammered. "I suppose," he added reluctantly.

"Will you do it or not!" the imp shouted angrily.

The elf thought about the tough choices those in the new order would have to make on a daily basis. If we was going to be a survivor, he too would need to make difficult decisions that would ensure his dominance.

"Yes. I can. I will," the warlock declared with conviction. "But it will take me some time to find the appropriate sacrifice for the ritual. Leave me for tonight and tomorrow..."

"That won't be necessary," the tiny demon exclaimed while jumping off the bed. Walking over towards the warlock's wardrobe, the imp made a grandiose flourish towards its doors. "I've taken the liberty of finding the perfect subject. Consider it my gift to you." The moment the imp had long waited for was at hand. "Go ahead," he said as he tapped on the wardrobe door, "Open your present."


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Chapter 3


In the two months since Al'uen first began his journey down the path of a warlock, he had been shown things both beautiful and terrifying. Under the guidance of the imp, Al'uen had performed acts of such great depravity that he hardly recognized the elf he once was in the person that he had become. He understood that a time would come when the last vestiges of the life he once enjoyed would soon be wiped away completely. As the warlock opened the door to the wardrobe, he realized that the time had finally come. The subject: a thing of beauty. The object: heart wrenching terror.

"Ka'lia?"

The elf stared blankly into the wardrobe. Crammed into its bottom was the body of his beloved wife. Without the doors propping her up, she slowly spilled on to the cold stone floor of the chamber where she lay unmoving.

"What have you done, Chouri?" the elf screamed half crying at the imp?

"Ooh, I just slipped her a little concoction made of scorpid venom to make he more..." the imp paused and with a chuckle continued, "manageable." He rummaged through a small sack he kept swung over his shoulder and pulled out a tiny vial. "Here," he said making his way to the unconscious woman, "this should wake her up." The imp poured a few drops from the vial into her mouth and within moments she began to stir. Al'uen knelt down, scooped his wife up into his arms, carried her over to the bed and laid her down. Opening her eyes, she glanced upon her husband's face.

"Al'uen!" she exclaimed with joy, with no trace of slumber remaining. "How? What am I doing here? Did you learn a new spell to bring me to you?" She sat up in the bed and threw her arms around him. "Now we need never be apart again," she laughed with delight.

"No, you flippant little woman," the imp interjected, "Your husband, my master, bid me bring you here. He requires a suitable sacrifice."

Ka'lia let out a startled cry upon seeing them imp and threw herself even more closer to the former mage. Al'uen simply sat there staring into Ka'lia's eyes, his expression devoid of any emotion. He thought back upon the last few weeks and his plans for the future. In all his imaginings he never envisioned a scenario in which his wife would be by his side. She would never be able to hold on to her simple pleasures in a land overrun by violence and chaos. Even the type of order the warlock hoped to maintain would be insufficient for her happiness. Despite this realization, he never allowed himself to dwell upon how it would be that he and his wife would go their separate ways. His son, he believed, would always been safely cared for under his protective watch, but his wife...

"Al'uen?" she asked with trembling voice, "I'm scared. What in all of Quel'thalas is happening? Why won't you speak to me?" She looked back to the imp then, returning her gaze to her husband and with a lump forming in her throat, she asked, What did this creature mean by sacrifice?"

The warlock sat speechless and cast his eyes upon the floor.

"What I meant was," Chouri added, eager to fill in the missing pieces of the story for the frightened wife, "is that my master here needs to rip your heart from out of your chest so that he can replace you with a much more agreeable woman." The imp laughed wickedly. Walking closer to the bed he reached his tiny hand under the pillow and pulled out from beneath it a long serpentine bladed dagger. "Right, Master?" the imp asked as he offered the cursed tool to the silent warlock. Al'uen stared long at the blade, but did not receive it.

"Don't think about it, just do it," the imp demanded, "Quick and easy. You can deal with your guilt later." The imp grinned a wicked smile. "You could even let her punish you for it later if you like," Chouri added.

"Al'uen," Ka'lia said pleadingly, now in tears, "I love you. I don't know what hold this tiny monster has on you, but I know you are strong enough to break free. I've always believed in you. Please don't do this horrible thing!"

The warlock lifted his gaze from the dagger with a start. "Break free? Believed in me?," the elf said questioningly to his wife. "You think I am so weak as to be enslaved by this tiny beast?" Al'uen asked motioning to the imp. "Where's your faith in me now?"

"It's such a shame," the imp added shaking his head back forth. "How degrading."

Standing up he turned and towered over his frightened wife. "You are just like the rest of them! Aren't you?" Al'uen was now roaring with anger. "You've pitied me! You've humored me this entire time! Haven't you?" Grabbing his wife by her shoulders he shook her violently. "HAVEN'T YOU!" Releasing her he dropped his hands to his side. Opening his right one he turned it towards Chouri. The imp gleefully slipped the dagger into the welcoming palm of the warlock, whose rage-trembling fingers promptly clutched down around the hilt of the blade. "I've been a fool," the warlock confessed, "to think any of you would appreciate what it was that I needed to truly excel in this world!" Looking towards the imp, he continued his rant. "Chouri has shown me the way to greatness, a level unsurpassed by any of the mages of this world, and I will have it!"

"That's it," the imp added encouragingly, "believe in yourself. Don't let anything get your way!"

Forcing himself on top his wife, Al'uen pinned her back upon the mattress. Holding his left hand over her mouth, he waved the dagger over her eyes with his right. "It's so easy," the warlock said with calm returning to his voice, "I understand now. To have it all, you have to be willing to lose it." The look of serenity that chanced upon his face just moments before was replace by a wicked smile. "Despite your pity, my dear sweet wife, you will help me to achieve greatness after all!" Raising the dagger high above them, he kissed his wife upon her forehead and whispering into her ear he added, "This is probably going to hurt a great deal." Rearing back he channeled all the force he could muster and thrust the blade towards Ka'lia's chest. The blade came down upon a frosty blue field of ice, ricocheting off to the corner of the room, instead.

Standing in doorway was San'thiel Sunbow with text books in one hand, the other outstretched towards the bed. "Al'uen," stammered the master student, "by the Sunwell. What do you think you are doing?" Separated from his wife by an impenetrable shield of ice, the warlock stood up and faced his best friend.

"Ah, my tutor comes to the rescue once more, eh?" Al'uen replied in mocking tones. "Except this time he's working his magics to foil me." The imp regarded his master and chuckled. "Yes, San'thiel, I know what you've done for me over the years. You gave our superiors the impression that I was more capable in the arcane arts that I actually was." Looking back towards his wife who had backed herself into the wall as far from him as she could, he gently ran his fingers over the shield of ice that had extended well beyond the surface of her body. "Like her," he continued, "you pitied me." Growing angrier he shouted, "You never considered me your peer! I was never your friend! I was just a charity case for you!"

"No, Al," San'thiel interrupted, "I have been your friend for years. Your rage and this beast," the mage motioned to the imp, "have clouded your memories of the truth. If you only let me..."

"NO!" the warlock screamed. "I have been shown the truth of things to come. When the Dark Portal opens MY time will finally be at hand, and I will be the master then."

Before the warlock allowed for any reply, Al'uen threw his hand forward towards mage releasing a dark green bolt of shadow. For seconds that seemed like an eternity, horrific images assaulted the mage holding him in panic and pain. When San'thiel returned to his senses he found himself on the floor with the warlock's hands wrapped around his throat choking the breath from him.

"You will NOT deny me my glory!" the enraged warlock shouted manically.

Freeing one of his hands that had been pinned under his back, San'thiel managed to invoke a word of power. Through his gasping breaths, he launched a bolt of pure ice and cold into the body of his friend, knocking him backwards on to the ground. With the warlock's movements hampered, the mage was able to fire off several more volleys as Al'uen struggled to get back to his feet. The best the frozen elf could manage was to balance himself unsteadily upon his knees, before collapsing back to the ground. His wounds began to bleed as frozen clots began to thaw.

"You've gone mad, Al'uen," the mage shouted boldly, "I shall not allow you to harm your wife, me, nor anyone else ever. Neither will you rise to greatness, you broken fool." Walking over towards the body of his collapsed friend, San'thiel began to cry. "I should have seen this coming. I could have prevented this."

"Yes," the warlock groaned, "but too late." Al'uen pushed himself up from the floor back on to his knees. He reached a trembling hand towards the mage. As San'thiel reached to help his friend up from the ground, an arc of fel energy bridged the gap between the two elves, connecting with the chest of the mage. His stance began to falter and he fell to his knees. The warlock stood up on steady feet. His wound twinkled with green light as they began to seal shut. With each passing moment, the warlock grew stronger as the mage grew weaker.

"Fool!" Al'uen laughed as the green arc between the two continued to drain the life from his friend. "My talents as a mage were lacking--I admit--but now at the end you learn that my abilities were best suited for another discipline." The mage could not recover. He had not the strength to voice another word of power. He was dying. "You will NOT stop me," the warlock continued, "and soon I will complete what you inter..."

The beam of energy came to an abrupt end. Al'uen stood in place silent and unmoving, his mouth agape. Looking down, he could see protruding from his chest the twisted, warped blade of a dagger. So focused was he on draining the life from his former friend, that the warlock did not notice how his wife had crept up behind him to plunge the implement of her doom deep into his back. Al'uen collapsed to the cold hard floor and died. Ka'lia too fell to the ground along with her husband and sobbed inconsolably.

Near death, San'thiel could barely make out the tiny form of the imp approaching the would be sacrificial victim from behind. He tried to reach out to warn her, but he was still too weak to communicate anything aside from a pained grunt. Despite his fears, the small demon seemed to do nothing more than whisper a few words into the broken woman's ear before fading from sight. He watched on as her tormented expression gave way to a blank featureless slate.

"Wha.. what did it .... say?" San'thiel finally managed to ask after several recuperative minutes.

The taciturn widow did not respond at first but slowly broke from her stupor to face the the mage. "Sorry, about your husband, ma'am ," she said quoting the imp, "but there's always your little boy."


====================================


Months has passed since San'thiel had last returned home to visit his family. Though he wished this stay would be one of festivity, he came instead on urgent business. He had a promise to keep for the widow of his friend. Approaching the gates of his estate, he was welcomed by his wife. She was expecting his homecoming and knew why he had returned. San'thiel gently handed over to her the small bundle he had been cradling in his arms.

"So tiny," she said to her husband.

"Yes," he replied, "so innocent."

Looking deeply into the eyes of his wife, he embraced her. "I love you dearly. Always remember that, no matter what the future holds." Glancing at the bundle in his wife's arms he added, "Love our children as we have loved each other. Nothing can sunder what we share." San'thiel kissed his wife farewell and then invoked the spell that would return him to the Violet Citadel.

With the bundle safely in her arms, the woman made her way back up the path leading to the house. She entered and made her way to the nursery where her young daughter lay sleeping in her crib. Unwrapping the bundled blanket that kept its occupant secured, she placed Al'uen child next to her own.

Without waking, the hands of the two infants found each other and clasped together.

"There, Mahre," the loving mother whisped quietly, "you've got a baby brother to watch after now."