Stolen Thunder: A Journal of Shaaira Severance

[◎Raineigh◎]

Icecrown Citadel, Northrend
Year 27

It was harder for me to come out here than I thought it would be. I don't even know how long it's been since I've set foot in Northrend again, but I still remember the day I left it "for good" like it was yesterday. Had I known then what I do now, I would have stayed. I would have fought harder to save him. Yet here I stand, a seemingly single mother on a ghost hunt for answers.

All because I had to listen to you...you idiot Paladin.

You'd finally broken free of your father, though you'd let him break you at all is something that I will always blame myself for. I should have been with you, should have fought against you wanting to protect me. Maybe then, you wouldn't have been forced into that Death Knight shell.

And yet, I loved you still...past the still heart and pale flesh.

So, I made you let me come along to confront your father. I remember the Argent Tournament. I remember the thrill you felt to find others who accepted you, and were willing to help you prepare. I remember a special night we spent in the throws of passion.

Then I remember waking up in Silvermoon. Without you.

I still have the letter you wrote me, to tell me to wait for you in Silvermoon, you'd find me again. And you know...I did. For months...until I had Zaerith, whom looks and acts just like you now. Part of me thinks you knew I was pregnant all along and wanted to protect us. The other selfish part of me wishes I had died here...with you.

But my stubborn heart cannot give up faith that you're still alive out here...and so I returned, leaving our daughter in the care of The Circle, so that I could bring you back with me.

[◎Raineigh◎]

Icecrown Citadel, Northrend
Day 2, Year 27

I hadn't counted on this being so large...or the sheer number and force of the Scourge that call it home. I also hadn't counted on just how many different wings and things resided just within a Citadel. It's a behemoth...but I will not let my faith be shattered.

I found myself a group of explorers planning on making way into the Citadel for whatever their reasons were. I didn't take names, I didn't take stories. They didn't matter. I would heal their wounds and ensure survival, but I wanted no mortal attachment should they fall.

We were lucky to be escorted by Lady Sylvanas Windrunner when we entered. Hordes of the Scourge walk these halls, and though I expected as much, I wasn't prepared at all for the sheer strength of them all. We had to find our way around shutting down a forge of sorts for souls, which I had no problem disabling once the rogue found the blueprints. I think I was just at ease because your soul was not one of which that I had found.

The adventuring, however, took more out of the group than they could handle and they decided to set up camp for the night. I'll continue my searching in the morning, however. I'll find you, be it body or bones.

[◎Raineigh◎]

Icecrown Citadel, Northrend
Day 8, Year 27

The time keeps dragging by, and yet, I haven't found so much as a trace of you. I found another group of adventurers who wished to examine the Quarry with Lady Sylvanas, and so I decided to tag along for the sake of maybe finding a trace of you. After hearing the rumors of Horde heroes being kept as slaves, my heart couldn't help but flutter at the chance that it may have been you that I could find.

And yet...through everything, you were not there. Not so much as a lock of hair from atop that platnum head of yours. I refuse to be discouraged though, and so when we heard Frostmourne was just within our grasp, we took it.

I won't lie, I was surprised to see Uthar Lightbringer, and even more surprised to hear his words. He seems to think that whatever shreds of Prince Arthas that are still sentient within The Lich King seem to be the only things keeping Azeroth from being overrun by the Scourge. Furthermore, he mentions that even if we are to kill him...there must always be a Lich King to rule them to keep such an atrocity from happening.

I don't give a damn about Azeroth anymore. I want to get you, and we'll take our child, and perhaps relocate to Nagrand. I've always loved the peaceful scenery.

I digress. I was incensed by The Lich King's gall in his refusal to face us now as we stood before him. No, he ran and allowed his lackeys to pick up the slack. We were victorious, as you could have guessed. I am writing this, so it proves death has yet to claim me. However, death did claim one. A dark ranger whom traveled in the shadow of The Banshee Queen.

As I sit here now, knowing that we had to run from our final battle, I find myself physically sick to my stomach at the cowardice. Sure, I have lived to fight another day, but for what reason? Because there was a small chance that I could have been claimed? That he may have been more powerful than I? That is not who I am, and I am tired of always being forced to turn away.

I will find you Zeak. I swear it.