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Resurgence of the Light ch 29
🕑 Added 2024-01-20 11:47:38 +0000 UTCSyreian strode through the stronghold that her mate's men had erected. Despite his tendency to make excuses and avoid her, she refused to relent. Though he may be of smaller stature, Syreian knew he was a powerful man, and she harbored no doubt that their offspring would inherit both her towering height and his formidable strength.
In her mind's eye, she envisioned a future with mighty Vrykul warriors wielding the Light, crushing unruly clans and uniting them under a single banner. Naturally, she pictured her own children as the charismatic leaders of this formidable force. If only her obstinate mate would overcome his reservations, embrace their connection, and claim her as his own. Frustration bubbled within her, and with each step, her feet struck the ground with unnecessary force.
The nearby men were startled by her presence, and she couldn't help but repress a sneer at what she perceived as their weakness. Why her mate chose to keep them around remained a mystery – perhaps as mere cannon fodder? She scoffed at the thought. As she continued to stomp about, seeking an outlet for her restless energy, her attention was drawn to the Lightforged undead rangers nearby.
Narrowing her eyes at the Lightforged undead rangers, Syreian couldn't shake the impression that they were nothing more than typical undead abominations. Despite this, she had witnessed their prowess in culling the forces of the Lich King, prompting her to reserve judgment and acknowledge their martial skills. In particular, she held a grudging respect for their leader, notably Sylvanas Windrunner, a warrior of formidable capabilities.
However, one figure continued to elude her – the mysterious Light's Chosen. Despite hearing about this person repeatedly, Syreian found herself unable to locate anyone who fit the description. Resigned to seeking assistance, she steeled herself to inquire about the elusive individual.
Spying a woman who appeared unfazed by her imposing presence, Syreian decided to approach. As she halted before the woman, the stranger raised an eyebrow in curiosity, pausing for a moment before inquiring, "Can I help you?" Sally asked, meeting the gaze of the Vrykul woman standing before her.
"Yes, I keep hearing about this Light's Chosen, but I cannot seem to spot him anywhere. Has he left?" Syreian inquired, a realization dawning on her that perhaps the elusive figure was on a mission or undertaking a task that kept him out of sight.
Sally furrowed her brows in contemplation, wondering about the Vrykul woman's interest in the man. "Why?" she asked, refusing to speculate without more information.
"I keep hearing about this impressive person, so I desired to take his measure for my own," Syreian explained, her motive seemingly straightforward. In the world of warriors, following someone required confidence in their worthiness as a leader, and Syreian was determined to gauge the Light's Chosen for herself.
Sally blinked slowly. "Surely you do not mean to challenge him?" Amusement tinged her voice, and Syreian sensed a trace of it, which only served to irritate her.
"And if I am? Uther has proven himself to be capable," Syreian asserted, her gaze sweeping those in proximity before dismissing them with a disdainful sniff. "Even if the others he surrounds himself with seem to be lacking." Sally snorted in response to her observation, but before Syreian could launch into further criticism, the woman extended her arm.
"There, at the top is where you will find him," Sally stated plainly before turning around, clearly uninterested in the Vrykul woman's intentions. If Syreian wished to challenge someone who could effortlessly smite them all, it was no concern of hers.
Syreian huffed in response to the casual dismissal but decided to deal with it later. Finally armed with the information she sought, she knew where to go to find the elusive Light's Chosen.
~~~~
Ascending the path toward the mountaintop, Syreian couldn't shake the nagging curiosity about the Light's Chosen. Why did he choose to seclude himself in such a manner, especially within enemy territory? Was it sheer confidence that, regardless of what the Lich King threw at him, he would emerge unscathed? If the tales she had heard of his deeds were accurate, it seemed a plausible explanation.
As she approached the summit, distant voices began to reach her ears, stirring questions. Had someone else sought out the man? Suddenly, a commanding female voice cut through the air, demanding, "Stop this at once!" Intrigued, Syreian quickened her pace, eager to witness the unfolding scene.
"You do not order me; you have neither the right nor the power to command me. I should kill you where you stand for your failures. The sheer arrogance you have of coming here and believing you can order me is unfathomable," a powerful male voice responded, laced with unwavering resolve.
As Syreian took the final steps, her eyes fell upon the scene unfolding before her. The one attempting to command the Light's Chosen was none other than Eyir, the majestic leader of the Valarjar, the entity who elevated the worthy to the ranks of Val'kyr.
Her mind momentarily froze in awe at the sight of Eyir's glory. However, that awe swiftly transformed into fear as Eyir began to exude power in response to the Light's Chosen's words. "Insolent human! You dare threaten me?!" Eyir thundered, her power escalating. Yet, with a mere wave of his hand, the Light's Chosen effortlessly suppressed Eyir's formidable might. The display left Syreian both astonished and apprehensive, realizing she stood witness to a clash of titanic forces.
"Kneel." The command of the Light's Chosen resonated, compelling both Eyir and Syreian to crash to the ground. As Syreian knelt, she pondered the reason behind her compliance, a realization slowly dawning upon her.
"You were entrusted with safeguarding this world, and you have failed time and time again. Do you think I do not know what dwells in Ulduar? Of Loken's betrayal? You had one job, just the one, and you all failed miserably at it. Were I the one to have created you and had you failed me so completely, I would destroy you." The stern words of the Light's Chosen reverberated, leaving Syreian feeling chastised, though she knew little of the failures he spoke of.
"You do not—" Eyir attempted to interject, but a single word from the Light's Chosen silenced her. "Silence," he commanded. "Here is what is about to happen. Soon, the attack on Icecrown will begin. Those that survive will have become hardened from the hardships and horrors they had witnessed. Once that has come to pass, you will return, and you will seek out Matriarch Liadrin. Speak to her of the horrors that hide in this world." The directive unfolded before them, and Syreian couldn't help but feel a weighty sense of responsibility settle upon her.
"After which, you will assist her in preparing the mortal races of this world to face those horrors and destroy them once and for all. Am I understood?" The Light's Chosen's words were firm, leaving no room for argument, as cold as the surrounding ice and unyielding as steel.
Eyir gritted her teeth and snarled, putting all her effort into the words she spoke. "Why should I?" Eyir questioned, each word requiring a significant effort.
"Because that is what should've been done long ago," a calmer and more somber voice responded. As the words settled, Alexstrasza calmly walked towards the subjugated Eyir and the unyielding Light's Chosen. The arrival of the Life-Binder added another layer of gravity to the scene, leaving Syreian to contemplate the weight of the impending tasks that lay ahead for them all.
Stepping beside him, Alexstrasza laid her hand calmly upon the Light's Chosen's shoulder, causing the pressure emanating from him to lessen. A grateful smile graced Alexstrasza’s face. "Alexstrasza," Eyir said slowly as she stood up, a hint of confusion and wariness in her voice.
"Eyir," Alexstrasza responded much more pleasantly. A contemplative silence settled over the area as everyone took a moment to reflect on the situation. "Do you think it wise to trust these mortals?" Eyir questioned, directing her inquiry towards Alexstrasza.
"Yes," Alexstrasza responded after a moment. "The mistakes they've made pale in comparison to those made by us. It is time we fix them. So, yes, I will support them and ask for their help to safeguard this world that was entrusted to us," Alexstrasza continued resolutely, locking eyes with Eyir without a hint of wavering.
"Very well," Eyir uttered before disappearing in a tower of Light, returning to the Halls of Valor. Alexstrasza turned towards the Light's Chosen. "A more gentle approach would yield better results; you know this," her tone held a hint of reproach, but in truth, it bore more resignation.
The Light's Chosen remained silent and unmoving, unyielding in his stance. Recognizing that he would not deign to respond, Alexstrasza sighed before turning her attention to Syreian, prompting her to stand quickly and shuffle awkwardly.
Alexstrasza offered Syreian a small, reassuring smile as she approached, stopping before her. "Best not speak of this," her tone remained pleasant, and her smile warm, but the warning in her words was unmistakable. Syreian nodded slowly, swallowing heavily.
A quick glance was spared at the Light's Chosen behind her before Alexstrasza turned her attention back to Syreian. "Best to leave your inquiries for another time, I believe," there was a hint of amusement in Alexstrasza's voice, but Syreian failed to feel it. Another nod followed, and she turned, departing from the scene. The power she had witnessed and the mysteries that surrounded the Light's Chosen lingered in her thoughts as she moved away, leaving her with much to contemplate.
~~~~
Uther stood in the command center, meticulously scrutinizing the plans for the impending attack. His eyes moved across the details, searching for any possible improvements, overlooked elements, or points of concern. However, as he reviewed the strategy once more, a sigh escaped him, realizing that they were as prepared as they could be.
The weight of anticipation settled on his shoulders, and he sagged slightly. The leaders around him shared in the palpable tension, feeling high-strung and restless, waiting for a decisive word from him. Time lingered, stretching with uncertainty. As they hesitated, doubts crept in—would he give the order to attack, or was he waiting for them to take the initiative? The sense of anticipation became a double-edged sword, building a sense of urgency and questioning among the leaders, eager for clarity in their impending course of action.
Uther's self-imposed seclusion had cast a shadow of uncertainty over the leaders in the command center. The palpable presence of their leader had not waned, indicating he was unharmed and aware of their readiness. Yet, the delay lingered, and doubts began to breed among them. Was it truly Uther who hesitated, or were they the ones causing the delay?
Recalling Uther's own words that he was in charge and brought back to lead, a surge of resolve coursed through him. The time for doubt and uncertainty was over. Uther clenched his fists, dispelling any lingering hesitation.
"Guards!" His commanding voice echoed through the room, prompting the doors to open, revealing two men ready for action. Finding nothing amiss, they turned their attention to Uther. "Spread the word. We attack at dawn," Uther commanded. The two men saluted, swiftly leaving to relay his orders, the announcement finally breaking the tense anticipation that had gripped the command center. The decision was made, and the path forward was clear – an attack at dawn.
