Doomsday Prophecy

Jaina was on her way to meet Antonidas. Unlike usual, she hadn't lost her sense of time this time.

A lot had happened in those few months, keeping her very busy and diverting her attention. An Archmage Kel'Thuzad angered the Kirin Tor by becoming obsessed with necromancy that defied the laws of nature. He was severely reprimanded and ordered to immediately cease his experiments, after which he mysteriously disappeared.

Even in this year of calamity, things are happening. The news that comes is shocking. The Orcs who escaped, named Thrall, has declared himself chieftain of the New Horde and has begun attacking internment camps, releasing Orcs prisoners. Durnholde was soon razed to the ground by the power summoned by this self-proclaimed chieftain, and rumors circulate that he has gained a new, more primal power. Blackmoore is dead, but reportedly few mourn him. Although it is still uncertain what the New Horde means to the people here, at least for now, there will be no war.

Then she heard voices, one of them sounding angry. This was unusual, Jaina stopped in her tracks.

"As I told Terenas, your people are imprisoned in their own land. I now reiterate to you—humanity faces annihilation. The Dark Tide are rising again, and the entire world teeters on the brink of war!" It was a loud, powerful male voice, Jaina didn't recognize who it was.

"Ah, now I know who you are. You are the self-important prophet mentioned in King Terenas's letter. I, like him, have no interest in your ramblings." This time, it was Antonidas who spoke. Despite the stranger's eagerness, he remained unmoved. The girl, filled with curiosity, urged herself on. She used invisibility to hide and continued eavesdropping. She approached as quietly as possible and could now see the two people speaking. The one Antonidas mocked as a "prophet" wore a black feather cloak, while her mentor was writing a document.

"Then you should be wiser than that King! The end is nigh!"

"I've already said I have no interest in this nonsense," Antonidas said calmly, enunciating each word clearly, dismissing the other man. Jaina recognized that tone.

The prophet was silent for a moment, then sighed deeply. "Then I'm wasting my time."

Under Jaina's astonished gaze, the stranger's form suddenly blurred, shrinking and changing. In an instant, where the hooded, robed man had just stood, only a raven with feathers as black as night remained. It let out a disappointed cry and soared into the sky, flapping its wings and disappearing.

Antonidas looked at the departing uninvited guest and said, "You may now show yourself, Jaina."

Jaina blushed with embarrassment and had no choice but to dispel the spell and step forward. "I'm sorry, Master, but..."

"Your curiosity is nothing new to me, child," Antonidas said with a light laugh. "That madman was proclaiming the end of the world. I suspect he was exaggerating the 'plague' that's been appearing in Lordaeron recently."

"Plague?" Jaina exclaimed in surprise.

Antonidas sighed and beckoned his apprentice to come forward and shake his branch-like hand. "You should remember that I recently sent some messengers to Lordaeron."

"I thought it was about Orcs."

Antonidas chanted a spell, and they soon appeared in his private residence. Jaina liked it there; she liked its clutter, the air thick with the smells of parchment, leather, and ink, and the old, large chairs. Antonidas gestured for her to sit, then snapped his fingers to summon a large jar, pouring them both honey.

"Yes, that's on the agenda, but the representative I sent believes there's a more serious threat looming."

"More serious than the resurgence of Horde?"

"Orcs can be dealt with readily, but diseases cannot. I have received reports of some kind of plague spreading in the north. The Kirin Tor must keep a close watch on this."

Jaina glared at him, her brow furrowing. She took a sip of her honey. If it was an illness, why not go to Priest instead of a mage? Unless...

"You believe it was essentially caused by some kind of magic?"

He nodded his bald head. "Very likely. Jaina, that's why I plan to send you to those places to investigate."

Jaina nearly choked. "Me?"

He smiled gently. "Yes. You've learned almost everything I can teach you. It's time for you to leave here and put those skills to use outside."

Nathanos sat atop a fallen tree trunk, teasing his two sheepdogs, repeatedly tossing them branches they had retrieved. Everyone present, except him, was filled with worry, with Arthas being the most anxious. Unlike Uther, Nathanos didn't offer him any paternal advice like, "You are a Paladin; you should remain calm." He sensed that Arthas had changed, becoming increasingly sharp and decisive, much like his former self, with only one flaw—a dislike of following others' opinions. If it were the old Arthas, he would have stood firmly by Arthas's side; now, he was merely fulfilling his duty. This change meant their relationship could never return to its former state of friendly banter.

But Arthas still needs his help...

Nathanos smiled involuntarily. Yes, he had received orders, orders from the Prince, that he needed to return to his side and face the hidden threat together.

"Why aren't they here yet?"

The twenty-sixth complaint. Nathanos heard Arthas's angry and desperate voice again. He had to understand why Arthas was like this. When he arrived, he had spoken with Falric, Arthas's captain of the guard who had known him for many years, about the Prince's recent situation.

Terenas had long ago dispatched Arthas and Uther to quell the Orcs uprising. He had heard about the defense of the town of Strahnbrad. Arthas had repelled the Orcs, but had failed to prevent the town's inhabitants from being captured. It was a failed battle, and Nathanos believed the Prince would feel deeply remorseful for it.

He paced back and forth at the crossroads. His breathing was audible in the cold air, and his growing irritation was even more pronounced. "Nathanos!" he finally remembered. "We've been waiting here for four hours, four hours! Can you tell me why Jaina hasn't arrived yet?"

This question reminded him of several years ago when Vareesa had also been complaining about the mage Rhonin for a long time, but the Elf were more patient and waited for three days.

"The monks are usually a little late; they have very little sense of time."

Before he could finish speaking, he heard a garbled roar from afar, like a lion suddenly awakened.

Arthas turned around, weapon in hand. Just as he was about to charge, a slender female figure came into his view over the hill and ran towards him.

Behind them... were two Ogre.

"By the Holy Light! We must help her!"

"No need, Captain," Arthas said, recognizing Jaina. "Let's see if the little girl from Dalaran is suitable to come with us."

Nathanos gave Arthas a strange look, thinking that she could certainly do it, and do it cleanly and efficiently. Jaina spun around with perfect timing and began summoning fire. Arthas thought that if he had any regrets, it would be for those two bewildered, pitiful Ogre. The flames licked their thick, grayish-white bodies, causing them to howl in pain, and what terrified them most was that this excruciating pain was coming from this petite human woman before them. One of them knew to flee, but the other seemed relentless, continuing its pursuit. With a muffled thud, Jaina finished it off with a wave of orange fire, and the Ogre collapsed with a scream, quickly burning to death.

Her fire magic was also quite good. Nathanos smiled slightly; Jaina had answered Arthas with her actions—she could do it!

The woman, draped in a purple runic cloak, dusted off her hands. She hadn't even broken a sweat.

"Thank goodness, they've finally arrived," Arthas said in a drawn-out tone as he walked toward the female mage who had stormed into the camp. "An envoy from the Kirin Tor, they're not too slow."

Jaina Proudmoore sensed Arthas's displeasure but showed no embarrassment.

"There are many things to prepare, Your Highness Arthas. And it seems not everyone is as impatient as you." Arthas turned his head following her gaze and saw the Hound of Nathanos wagging its tail and licking its master's palm.

"Yes," he said, a hint of anger in his voice. "It has been a long time indeed." An awkward silence fell. Then Arthas cleared his throat and said, "Well, I think we should get going."

"Set off? "Nathanos instinctively stood up upon hearing the order, and even Jaina felt it was inappropriate. They had only just reunited; they should at least exchange information to demonstrate cooperation.

"We should let Lady Jaina rest for a while, Prince Highness. We can also hear what the Kirin Tor thinks about the plague that has spread throughout Lordaeron."

"We can talk about it on the way. But we're in a hurry now, Nathanos."

Jaina looked down at the soil and said, "So, Prince Highness, what do you know about the plague we're investigating?"

"Not too many," Arthas had to admit as he walked. "I only just took over this task myself. Uther and I have been fighting the Orcs lately."

She smiled and nodded, but her brow began to furrow. "That's right, although I'm not entirely sure about the specifics yet. That's why my mentor Antonidas, sent me to observe the situation and report back to him. We should go and check out the villages along King's Road, talk to the villagers, and see if they can tell us anything useful. If we're lucky, they haven't been infected yet, and maybe this is just a small-scale epidemic."

This was merely self-consolation! Everyone present understood that if Antonidas himself sensed something was amiss, he wouldn't have sent his most prized disciple to investigate. Of course, King Terenas wouldn't have sent his own son either.

Arthas suddenly changed the subject. "I'm wondering if this has anything to do with the Orcs." Nathanos narrowed his eyes, while the Prince continued, "Quite a few Orcs have already escaped from the internment camp."

"Not everything is related to the Orcs," Nathanos tried to correct his mistake. If it weren't for Terenas's orders, Arthas probably wouldn't have paid any attention to the situation here; he would have focused more on the Orcs. Hearing Nathanos's words, he became even more uneasy. "Of course I wouldn't falsely accuse them; they are worshipping demons."

"What?" Jaina's eyes widened. "I thought the demons had been wiped out long ago. And the Orcs had stopped using that evil magic."

Arthas shrugged. "You can ask anyone here besides Nathanos. While I was protecting and defending Strahnbrad, the Orcs were already plundering the villagers. We fought our way to their camp, but... three people were still... sacrificed."

Nathanos held his breath and listened as always, not just with his ears, but with his whole being, focusing on every word.

"The Orcs offered villagers to the demons, claiming it was just a paltry sacrifice—clearly they wanted more. More people, the children of the Menethil Family."

His breathing was visible in the cold air, and his ever-growing annoyance was even more pronounced.