A Frozen Memory

This story takes place between my girlfriend's and my own characters. The mentioned characters are Clarene Callahan, and Lucius Callahan who unfortunately has a split personality by the name of Dravian, who's memory this pertains to. Fan Fiction of WoW and scene through RP. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! Dedicated to the love of my life, Clara.

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1. A Frozen Memory

          The evening finally began to fade, the sun rising slowly, it’s ray of light flowing over the untouched snow, the valley quiet with only the soft whispers of the winter’s voice. The valley had been a place that he had grown to feel a plethora of emotions, anger, hate, victorious, longing, sadness.. It was a place that he could always catch the morning sun, warming the frozen wasteland even against all odds, the overlook Lucius now sat on always giving the best view..

(( The song he is playing http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UVI_B8AWI5Q))

 

         As he sat holding his silent guitar in his hands, he held his eyes closed feeling the warmth of the sun finally rising to meet him from his vantage point, his sudden humming broke the silence of the scenery as his fingers began to move, nimbly and by memory along the neck of the guitar, fingertips plucking lightly on the strings with ease. She sat behind him, hidden away in the brush and trees that would normally hide the path to this very overlook, her large eyes blinking slowly as a soft smile formed on her face as he began to hum and play. The ghost pains he had gifted her, the worries of her and him that they now shared forever slowly began to melt away as she felt him pour himself into the song. The plucking of the strings become more and more confident and his low gravelly voice rising along with it, light feet moved as she crept out of her hiding place, signaling to the elder wolf to stay behind. She stopped behind him and looked over the peaceful and majestic scenery of the valley below, the bitter cold of Icecrown becoming forgotten as the sun crept against her frostbitten cheeks, her smile never faltering as she looked at her husband then to the valley, finally closing her eyes and joining him.

          The sunlit valley below came to life as the sun rose, the winds of the ruthless night becoming forgotten as white snow hares sprinted from hidden homes, running along the freshly fallen snow. The rays of the sun flowed along, almost as if chasing the rabbits that ran. The signs of a long forgotten battle finally beginning to awaken as the light brought life to the true scene below. The remains of ancient armor and weapons, hulking forms of long destroyed siege tanks and catapults, and the remains of unnamed heroes lay, frozen in time and forgotten by a society long since washing their hands of the deadly North and the costly war once fought to protect them.

          “..Hallllleluuujah..” Lucius finally sang, along with his humming, his eyes opening slowly to look down at the ravaged lands, the banner of the Knight of the Ebon Blade catching his eyes as it blew tattered in the cold wind. “…Halllleeluuujah.” He sang again, fingers still nimbly moving along the strings, his wife Clarene still humming behind him. “..Hallle-leluujaah..Halleleluu-luujah..Hall-leee-luuujahh..Halleluujah.” His eyes closed once more as his mind began to remember that time, so long ago.

          “My lord!” The Ebon Knight yelled over the hordes of undead below, the overlook that Lucius and Clarene had been sitting upon now transformed into a scouting encampment, several death knights in leather and light armor scanned the valley, unfazed by the numbers of the dead they witnessed. “..We must call in the Crusaders to support our forces; they are buried to well in!” The commander of the small force frowned, a rare gesture to break the usual stoic demeanor he generally held, taking the spyglass from his sergeant and peering through.

 

         The battle raged on, the valley below, nestled beneath the foothills of the mighty Icecrown Citadel had been chosen and tasked to the Knights of the Ebon Blade to be captured and held, providing a staging point for their forces to strike deeper against the Lich King’s defenses. The sheer walls and narrow path’s however had led to a stale mate, the hordes of the mindless undead, led by death knights still held strong within the Lich King’s grasp, had buried and fortified themselves deeply, trenches were dug and siege weapons positioned to rain hell upon the advancing army. “..Call them in.” Dravian spoke after seeing yet another wave of Ebon Knights rushing forward and scattered by the entrenched army, already cold bodies falling to the ground, limbs raining through the sky. “..Let us hope they aid…This time.” His lips curling in a snarl as he fell silent, handing back the spyglass and turned, a sharp whistle bringing his undead horse to him as he leaped into the saddle, taking her reins into his hand. “..I will join the front, continue reports and send them as you see fit.” The shriek of his undead mare echoed as he disappeared into the tree line.

 

         Lucius opened his eyes once more, looking over his shoulder to Clarene with a sad and mixed expression before turning back to the valley, knowing full well that his memory and thoughts had echoed inside her mind, the rune he had placed upon her body linking her mind to his, forever. “Where are they?!” The giant of a death knight roared, his mighty rune blade cleaving into the head of a nearby scourge. “..Commander Dravian, you said they were coming!” The sun had begun to fall, and the nightly snow fell in curtains, licking at the torches set out to at least provide light. The battle raged for two more days since the call for aid had been sent, the Ebon Blade’s forces cut nearly in half in that time, the battlefield littered with corpses, allies and enemy alike, but still the scourge came, pouring from the trenches in untold numbers.

 

          “..They have forsaken us.” Dravian spoke flatly, his own rune blade arching forward as he twisting on the toes of his leading foot, dancing out of the way of a scourge battle axe and struck the killing blow, severing the head completely. “..We will do it ourselves, without them.” He murmured to himself before turning to the group he had inherited after the death of their previous leader a night ago, his cold and emotionless voice rising above the garbled and moans of the charging minions of the Lich. “Hear me! Hear my voice!” Those that his voice reached brought lich-fire eyes to study him, those beginning to retreat stopped in their tracks, glancing over their shoulders. “..We are the forgotten! We are the lost! We are to be used as tools of the living, placed to fight a battle that they could not spare –living- souls upon!” His voice filling with rage and life as he continued, his hand rising to a small group of scourge, their forms freezing as he channeled his frost abilities, striking out with his rune blade to shattered them. “..We will no longer fight for –them-! We will no longer bow our heads and wish for a place amongst their world! We will cleave and take our own piece, and claim victory..Today! Tomorrow! ..Months, years, centuries from now! We will remember our brothers, those that have lost their lives for the sake of the living! Those that will continue to live on, to form a new life!” The death knights eyes focused on him, bodies tense or striking out to keep the makeshift defensive line held firm. “..Will you follow me?! Will you fight for the new life we have been granted!?”

 

           The giant death knight beside him suddenly burst into a battle cry, the others soon joining him in unison to form one beastly scream, and followed their commander. Stubbornly and almost crazed they fought through the waves of scourge, ignoring the impacts of the siege weapons that scattered their forces. The battle cry slowly turned into screams of crazed men, striking and cleaving, limbs parting from bodies only causing mere pause, those falling only when legs became cut from beneath them, hands still gripping at scourge and dragging them down with them as they clung to the fury Dravian had awoken within them. They fought through the field and clawed their way into the trenches, the inside becoming a pit of hell and conflict. The morning sun rose, and the sounds of battle had long since faded hours ago, the remains of what many historians now think of as a minor battle within the War of the North stood quiet. Slowly the warmth of the sun’s rays crept through the crimson stained snow, shining against the midnight armor of fallen knights and meaty remains of lost scourge. Dravian sat silently atop a small hill, the tattered banner of the Ebon Blade blowing in the dying wind, his arm severed, and armor crushed and shattered. Silver lich-fire eyes surveyed the scene with no emotion, his expression stoic until he saw the banner peak around the bend near the beginning of the valley, the holy symbol and sign of the Argent Crusade, brought a knot to Dravian’s stomach, the remaining forces of his own knights followed his gaze slowly shaking their heads at what they saw.  

          The sun seemed to glisten off the polished and untarnished golden armor of the lead rider, his helmet and banner-men following close behind him as he guides his almost as shiny warhorse through the body littered field, stopping just short of the small hill as Dravian rose. His own armor, black and dull, shattered and torn as the impact of a siege weapon torn his left arm from his body, face ripped and stained crimson from blood not his own. The Crusader lifted the visor of his helmet, looking down at Dravian with barely hidden disgust. “..You are relieved of command here, Death Knight..Your men and yourself are to report back to where you belong…We shall do what you seem incapable of achieving in fortifying this valley.” His silver lich-fire eyes didn’t even blink as he strode down the hill, rune blade flashing outwards and striking the Crusader’s horse and dropping it dead to the ground, pinning the Crusader beneath its weight. “..You are welcome, fool.” Slowly he turned and limped toward his own waiting mare, swinging up into the saddle gracefully even for only possessing one arm, and nudged her forward, ignoring the shouts and commands to stop, the rest of the Crusade forces moving from his path as he rode away from the valley, his only remaining men following in sober silence.

 

 

            Suddenly Lucius began to sing again. “..La lalala la la..” pausing. “..La lalala la la..Hallllleluuujah..” His fingers picking up the speed as he finally stood, moving to the edge of the cliff, and looked down over the ruins of his most memorable battle. “..Hallllleluuujah…Halle..Halle..Luuujah..Hallleluujah..” Closing his eyes again and letting the song fade, he glanced over to Clarene, offering a small and sad smile, holding out his hand as she moved to stand next to him, curling her fingers around his. “..May they all finally fahnd th’peace they sought..” His voice spoke softly as he took the flowers held in Clarene’s other hand, lifting them and letting the wind carry them over and down towards the valley below. “..My brothers..My comrades..May the Light embrace you finally in its hold..You earned your rest.” Dravian spoke through Lucius, his head bowing, the brim of his hat covering the cold tears beginning to run down his cheek.

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