Death Never Dies

by Milton Garby

  "Won't matter?!" Leira sputtered, throwing her hands up in disbelief. "Sara, what about everyone else, huh? Are you just gonna say 'oh well' with them?" Sara didn't reply. "Light damn it, Sara! Listen, I know how you feel about other people! I know how little you care about them. But the world's not just the four of us! We're not the only ones whose lives matter!"

  "You're the only ones whose lives matter to me!" she shouted. "I'm trying to save the world! If I don't do this then we WILL lose! Look around, Leira! LOOK AROUND! Stormwind's gone! Silvermoon, gone! Undercity, gone! If I heard right, then Orgrimmar and Thunder Bluff are gone too. Kil'jaeden's here, he's not going to fall for any tricks, we're out of farms, out of space, almost out of food and water! There isn't enough firepower left on the planet to win this war!"

  "Oh yeah? I'm pretty sure if the Dragon Aspects ganged up on Kil'jaeden he'd go down!"

  "The Dragon Aspects haven't done anything! Nobody has! Everyone always says 'oh we'll shut down these portals', 'oh we'll hold out this city, this town, this castle' and none of it ever works! My plan is the ONLY thing that'll work!" she shouted, head buzzing with volume.

  "Bullshit it is! You're not doing this!" Leira shouted back. "You think you're my only friend, Sara? You think you're the only one in my life?! What about Alex, or Anra, or Hammon? You gonna spare them?" Sara didn't have any response. "Or your parents, huh? Did you think about their friends? Or my parents? What about them, Sara? You are talking about summoning an unshackled Old God onto the planet! Think I'll just let you rip their minds apart?"

  "Oh good to know how much you trust me!" she countered. This wasn't going as planned. This wasn't going as planned at all... "Oh Sara's not really your friend is she? Just stick around the unstable psycho to keep her from going off and murdering everybody, is that how it is?" she spat.

  "That's how it's starting to be!" Leira shouted, and Sara suppressed a flinch. "I'd rather have the fucking Legion burn the planet to charcoal than have an Old God squatting on it! I'm not going to Outland, and you're not going to Northrend."

  Sara lowered her voice into dangerously black territories, trembling with rage. "Leira," she growled, snapping up a barrier around herself in case things got ugly. "You're coming to Shattrath, and you're staying there," she said with grave finality.

  "Make me," the draenei challenged, balling her fists.

  This time Sara did visibly wince, hovering backwards until she bumped into the wall. She looked down, narrowed her eyes, then locked eyes with Leira and snarled.

  She extended her unutterable powers into the warrior's mind...

  It was cold in Dalaran.

  Icy winds blew through the streets and cut into her fur jacket. Sara huddled her hands closer to herself and drew the hood up, floating on. The streets were a lovely shade of purple and the Silver Enclave's buildings all had beautiful sky blue caps. She looked from side to side occasionally, searching for her destination while most of the time she scribbled in a notebook.

  After a moment, she found her destination and hurried into the inn known as A Hero's Welcome.

  Once inside, warmth blasted her with the strength of a dragon. She flipped her hood off and blew out sharply, shaking her head to clear it. Sara approached the bartender. "Hi there," she greeted the old woman. "I'll have a loaf of crusty flatbread, a slice of sweet potato bread, a caribou steak, and uh, two sweetened goat's milks please."

  "Sure thing deary," the older human said, writing down her order. After a few minutes, Sara was about five gold poorer and seated at a table, eating her lunch. Her notebook came out and she continued her work, perfecting the ritual that would change her back into Yogg-Saron.

  The devil was in the details. Her soul was acclimated to a human body. Trying to get it to stick into a body the size of a continent would have her slipping off and nothing would get done! She needed to feed her soul a tremendous amount of life energy, but she had to wonder if there was enough life energy on the planet. And she needed a way to repair the damage done to Yogg-Saron's body, reshape her soul, get enough mana to do it, keep an arcane feedback from tearing everything apart... it was hard work even for her.

  Her thoughts wandered as she ate and worked. Her parents and Leira were safe. That was all that mattered. Now there was nothing holding her back. She was still racing Kil'jaeden and his armies, but they had no idea where she was or what she was about to do. They'd be taken utterly by surprise as Yogg-Saron broke free from Northrend.

  ... Leira's words still hurt. The worst part was, she knew there was some merit to them. Sara wasn't an idiot. She knew there was nothing intrinsically special about the three of them. There was no defining factor that made them more worthy than any other mortal or immortal on the planet. The only reason she was attached to them was because right now, she was a human, with a human brain, and she'd bonded with them during her formative years. There was no other reason to set them apart, to care about them.

  But she did set them apart. She had bonded with them and she did care about them. So what if it made her a hypocrite? So what if she was picking and choosing? She was a god! She could do that if she wanted! She was going to save the world, wasn't she afforded some -

  Snap!

  Sara relaxed, angrily looking down at the pencil she'd snapped. "Damn it." She threw it into her pack and fished out a new one.

  She shouldn't be thinking about them. She had a goal, Sara had to focus everything onto it. What came after would be simple. Focus on the work, that was all she needed to do.

  Eventually, her bread vanished and her steak was half eaten. The goat's milk wasn't as sweet as she thought it'd be, and had a strange aftertaste that may or may not have been her imagination. She'd need to get a room in the inn soon. Sara rested her head and looked around the inn, at the various patrons seated. There was a high elf, a human, a worgen, and even a - wait a second.

  High elf.

  She inspected him. He was on the other side of the inn with his side to her, picking away at a meal of sour cheese. Sara packed up her things and floated up from her seat, approaching his table with a swaying motion not unlike a snake. She arrived at his table and slid into the seat, smile too large for her face.

  "Well well well," she said, and he snapped up to stare at her. For a moment he was confused, and then the blood drained from his face.

  "If it isn't my good friend, Higris," she finished.

  Kil'jaeden

  Bilgewater Harbor was pathetic.

  The goblins had renovated Azshara into a symbol of the Horde, one his armies had taken great pleasure in tearing down. Streets were melted down. Rockets explosively lit. And now, Kil'jaeden himself stood before the capitol of the Bilgewater Cartel, ready to make a firm impression.

  The news of Orgrimmar was already making rounds, he knew that through various scouting spells. But he also intended to show that, despite his title, subterfuge and transmission rituals were far from his only tools. He would destroy Bilgewater through more conventional means.

  It disgusted him. The water was filthy and the air smelled. The fact that the goblins had so little care for the environment did not particularly upset him, it was the fact that their apathy was geared towards an outcome other than his. The Legion sterilized. The goblins festered.

  They were ready, though. Land mines burst under his hooves, guns were mounted to every roofstop, and goblins stood by them with rockets held on their shoulders. A stream of lead and RPGGs flew onto Kil'jaeden as he approached, but all of it either popped harmlessly against his skin or was deflected by his wings. His muscular tail swayed as he approached and, once he was close enough, he held his hands at his waist. Fireballs rippled inside of his palms, then burst along his body.

  The ocean boiled.

  In countless ages past, he had been privy to watching Lord Sargeras trample worlds himself, and he had gotten to watch as forests on the other side of the planet burst into flames, as water boiled for miles around. Kil'jaeden couldn't achieve something so powerful and wide
spread passively like the Dark Titan could, but he was able to magically perform a scaled down version. And so, the seas around Bilgewater churned and frothed as he approached.

  His hands cupped more flame, and he tossed it into the air. The fireballs splintered into smaller ones, then those splintered, then again and again until the sky was filled with flame darts that came crashing down on Bilgewater like hail. Mortals were rent in half. Metal roofs were melted. Weapons were shredded and stored explosives detonated prematurely, a chorus of pops and explosions.

  Kil'jaeden sustained the shower of flame darts, giving the defenders' onslaught no attention. Soon, Bilgewater was a charred crater surrounded by a boiling sea, and everyone within was dead.

  But just to be sure nobody had gotten away, Kil'jaeden levitated himself into the center of the ruined city. He wrapped his wings around himself and began chanting in demonic, gathering the vast darkness of millions of souls. When the spell was ready, he tossed his wings back and roared. The enormous spell burst outwards, shadow energy washing over the surrounding city, piercing through buildings, through shrapnel, seeking out any life it could find and throttling it. He felt a few bursts of power as the spell found survivors, and then it was over.

  The Horde had no capital cities remaining. Time to focus on Moonglade.

  Sara

  She let the cult leader squirm. Higris stared at her - and she noted he only had his left eye remaining, the right under an eyepatch - in disbelief.

  "You," he said eventually, lowering his voice to a hiss. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

  She reclined in her seat and laced her fingers together. "Would you believe me if I said blind luck? I'm here on some very important business." The gears in her head turned, and she winked at him. "Business I think you'll definitely want to get in on. Liking the eye patch, by the way."

  He scowled. "That would be the qiraji's doing. What business?"

  She looked around, then frowned at him. "Too many prying ears. Let's switch over to telepathy." She held up her left hand and shrouded it with purple energy. Lines in his brain linked to her, and she'd refined the technique not to trip any magic alarms. 'There we are,' she thought to him. 'Now. Business. What if I told you I know how to revive Yogg-Saron?'

  He blinked, then frowned. 'You would never think to aid me, after my attempt at killing you.'

  'Well I'm very forgiving,' she lied. 'And besides, I don't hold that against you.' She shrugged. 'I was going to turn on you anyway, you just beat me to it. But things have changed. C'Thun showed me things. And those things led to other things, and wouldn't you know, I now have a vested interest in resurrecting Yogg-Saron.'

  He crossed his arms. 'I don't believe you.'

  'Well of course you don't. So I'll make you.' He stiffened. 'Higris. I AM going to resurrect Yogg-Saron and you are going to help me. One way or another. I can't prove anything to you here, but if we can get some place alone I can demonstrate.'

  He scoffed and responded, 'So you can mind control me without witnesses. Do you take me for a fool?'

  'Yes, but that's nothing personal. Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time there was an Old God imprisoned in Ulduar.' He rolled his eyes. 'It was weak but getting stronger and stronger, and while it could have simply waited to gather more and more strength, it was certain it already had more than enough to escape, so no need to wait any longer, right? Wrong. An expedition showed up and their main fighting force, backed by three Titan Watchers, struck it down. But it had a backup plan, you see. Just before death, it ejected its soul from its body.' Higris jolted upright, his remaining eye wide. 'I see I got your attention. The idea was that the Old God would possess a mortal, and when the world least expected it, it would return to Ulduar and put itself back in its body. Well Higris, it turns out the body it possessed was me.'

  "You lie," he said aloud. "Brazenly so." He switched back to telepathy. 'You are but a shadow of the Masters. A human like any other, thieving the barest portion of their powers.'

  She shrugged. 'That's where you're wrong. But hey, don't just take it from me. Take it from my research.' Sara pushed her notebook, filled with her attempts to perfect the ritual, over to Higris. 'Does look like the work of someone who's lying?'

  Higris was a mage, he'd proven that much in their fight. You didn't get to know polymorphs and counterspells without a hefty amount of research. For a layman, Sara could've scribbled nonsense and passed it off as anything. Higris wasn't a layman. He flipped through her notebook, reading her notes, the various forms the spell had undergone, and frowned. Eventually he reached the end of it and passed it back to her.

  'I still hold reservations over you actually being one of the Great Ones.'

  'So be it. But you do believe what I intend to do.'

  'I do.' The high elf narrowed his eyes. 'On the last page, you made an arithmetic error. Sha crystals have a density of eighty-nine thaums per gram, not eighty-eight and a half.'

  She opened it up and scribbled in the correction. That was embarrassing. 'Noted. So you will aid me then?'

  He bared his teeth and exhaled sharply through his nose. 'This ritual you plan... it could work. It still needs completion, but if it means seeing great Yogg-Saron walk this world then by all means. I will aid you in any way I can.'

  'Excellent. Do you have any of your minions left?' Everything was going according to plan. What a stroke of luck she'd find someone indoctrinated by the Old Gods here in Dalaran!

  'Yes, actually. Everyone with me in Silithus died, but that was not my entire flock. Two dozen, all in Dalaran, half of which are casters of my caliber.'

  'Then gather them. I'll grab a room at the inn, and we can get to work there. I'll be waiting at the top of the stairs.' She pushed out her chair and hovered up. "Oh, and Higris?" She leaned in. "If you betray me, I'll tear your spleen out through your throat," she whispered, sending a jolt of fear and subservience into him before severing the telepathy link.

  Sara floated to the bartender and started talking with her, eventually getting a room to reside in for a few days. She grabbed the key and floated up the stairs, taking a right and a left until she arrived at the corresponding door. She opened it and floated in.

  Sara whistled. Dalaran was a city of opulence, but it never ceased to amaze her. The stained glass windows were framed by vibrant purple curtains, the floor was a checkerboard of polished stone inlaid with gems, the walls' paint was unchipped and even. The queen sized bed had purple sheets embroidered with the golden eye of the Kirin Tor. A colossal dresser stood in the corner, closed, and opposite from it was a bookshelf filled with countless arcane tomes. Next to the bed was a nightstand with a lamp she could tug on and off with a string.

  She shuddered to think of how much it was costing her, especially in war times, but did it matter? Soon, she'd never need money ever again. She could afford this.

  Sara flopped onto the soft, springy bed and flipped open her notebook. While Higris was busy gathering his people, she could at least get something done. This was, after all, her absolute priority. Figure out the ritual. She kept working, and she did manage to figure out a way to get her soul to stick. She didn't need enough life energy to bond with an Old God, she needed enough life energy to kickstart her soul's growth, and then it would take care of itself. It would complicate the ritual, though...

  Knock knock knock!

  "It's open," she shouted. The door opened up and in came Higris, followed by a dozen other mortals of various genders and Alliance races. "Close the door," she said coldly. The one closest to the door, a gnomish man, did just so. Once they were alone, Sara's grin went crooked. "Excellent."

  Her magic washed over them before they had a chance at defending themselves. She paralyzed them and shut off their magic, gently lowering them to the ground. Then she began her work, twisting and reworking their loyalty lines, whispering to them to see how it was going. One by one, they bent to her will, pliable and generous. Sara wasn't going to take another risk. Higris
might be loyal to her now that she was aligned with him, but she wasn't going to bet on his good will. No, they were all going to serve her by force. Maybe he'd expected it and counted on safety in numbers but that wouldn't save him. Nothing would.

  Soon it was done and she relaxed her hold on them. They'd fallen to the floor while she did her work, sound asleep, so now that she was done they sluggishly blinked awake, sitting up and groaning with hands on heads.

  "Now that THIS is all taken care of," she said. "Rise." They stood, facing her with something approaching awe. "I'm guessing Higris invited you all here. So, this is what we're doing. All of us are staying in here, and brainstorming a way to get this ritual done." She held out the notebook and tossed it to Higris. "Let's get started."

  The dozen mortals gathered around her, and they began working in earnest. Fourteen heads were better than one, and with their help the ritual design went along smoothly. At one point a maid came in wondering at the noise, but Sara just said they were colleagues helping her with a magical puzzle, which was entirely true.

  "What if we put a dispersion matrix on the fourth quadrant? It would require redesigning the second spiral though."

  "The channels for life magic need to be here, here, and here, each tuned to fifteen thousand thaums. Any idea on how we can get it that high?"

  "The first stage requires six of you to cast the arcane version and the other six to cast in the shadow version. I've drawn the ordering, it'll rotate counterclockwise."

  Step by step, minute by minute, hour by hour, they worked to complete the ritual. Outside, Northrend's peculiarly long days dragged on until the sky was dark and aflame with aurora. The magic expulsion process was completed. The infusion process was completed. The transplantation process was completed. With everyone blinking and half asleep, with the sun coming up the next day, the ritual was finally, finally complete.