Hope

How many days has it been? Jaina lay in the rocking chair in her room, eyes closed in meditation. She hadn't left Dalaran since returning. She still couldn't believe Arthas's massacre of the city; what kind of person could do such a thing? Because of this, she was forbidden from leaving Dalaran, only temporarily. Antonidas personally issued this order to protect her, though Jaina suspected her father Daelin, was also involved. This morning, a Kul Tiras naval the Necklace was delivered to her. Jaina was stunned. The silver the Necklace bore a miniature anchor— the Heart of Kul Tiras! Jaina would never forget this the Necklace, and she knew what it meant, but she was still puzzled as to why her father would give it to her.

During this time, she was completely "isolated" from the plague. Antonidas forbade her from participating in any research, and even barred her from entering the library, allowing her only to study the knowledge she already knew by heart.

A raven stood before her window. Jaina was surprised that she could only pass the time by observing this ominous bird. She stared at it for a moment. Suddenly, her eyes widened.

The bird began to transform and grow. In an instant, a raven transformed into a tall, standing figure. Jaina gasped. Although she had witnessed such transformations several times before, she still found it unbelievable. Standing before her was the prophet she had met twice before.

"It's you!"

The prophet's face was veiled; Jaina could only see a mysterious smile on his face, as if silently telling her, "It's a pleasure to meet you." This was the third time she had seen him—the first time was when he was talking to Antonidas, and the second time was when she was with Nathanos.

"The end is near for this land. The dead will awaken, and the fate of many will be changed."

His blunt words sent a chill down Jaina. "A lot has indeed happened, but the people here are still able to control the situation." This was true, yet it chilled her to the bone. The news of Arthas's purge of Stratholme troubled her once more.

The prophet's tone softened. "The Prince's determination is admirable, but in the end everyone will abandon him, and he will fail." He paused, then continued, "Actually, it's not just him; there's someone else who's the same. He's smarter than anyone else and knows how to hide his true nature. I also searched for that person with high hopes, but the people he cared about held him back."

"You mean Nathanos?"

The prophet nodded. "You witnessed my conversation with him. Of all the people, he was the only one who didn't think I was crazy, and of course, you were too."

"Then why didn't you remind him and ask him to help you?" Jaina pressed.

"Help me?" The prophet said the two words with interest, as if savoring them, then nodded. "Yes, he did help me, bringing you before me. Hope has fallen on you, young mage."

"What? Me?"

"Antonidas and Terenas look down on me. Human rulers and magic masters all turn a blind eye to the truth. But I think you won't."

Jaina could almost see the energy swirling and flashing violently around him, incredibly powerful. He took a step closer and placed his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at his eyes, a pair of deep blue eyes, with a puzzled expression.

"You must lead your people to the ancient western continent of Kalimdor. Only there can you fight the darkness and save the world from the flames." The prophet reached out and picked up the Necklace, Heart of Kul Tiras, that Jaina had placed on the table, and personally helped her put it around her neck.

"This is destiny, Daughter of the Sea. Nathanos did not have the same innate advantages as you, nor could he persuade his lover Alleria to leave Quel'Thalas, so he could only stay here and accept his final fate."

As the prophet finished speaking and prepared to turn and leave, Jaina, standing behind him, suddenly asked, "Will he die?"

This question made him stop walking towards the window, and after a long while he answered, "Yes! But death is the beginning of his life."

Jaina stared at him, not understanding what he meant, but the prophet's words were true. Those eyes held no dominance or threat, only a profound and unwavering insight into the world; the truth was firmly imprinted in Jaina's mind.

"I..." She swallowed hard, finally recalling everything that had happened recently, and then nodded.

"I will do as you say, but it will take some time to gather the others and convince them to believe me."

"I don't think you have that much time left. You've already wasted too much."

Jaina lifted her chin. "I have to try. If you know me well enough, you should know that."

The Raven Prophet seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, smiling as he patted her shoulder. "If you feel it's necessary, then act, but don't delay too long. Delay will have fatal consequences."

She nodded, speechless. Too many people needed to know this news, especially Antonidas. Jaina didn't think she could persuade her stubborn mentor, but with Nathanos, she believed she could give it a try. That man had witnessed countless deaths and possessed great foresight. He must have been well aware of the consequences of stubbornly clinging to this continent and refusing to retreat to Kalimdor.

The prophet's form shrank, transforming back into a jet-black raven, and she soared into the sky, her outstretched wings rustling in the wind. For some reason, the air currents from her black wings brushed against her face, smelling pure and fresh.

That was the breath of hope.

Nathanos walked the streets of Stratholme. This city, once a source of pride and glory for northern Lordaeron, was now a living hell.

The stench was unbearable. Many corpses had been cremated on the spot, but to little avail. Even after so much time had passed, piles of cremated bones still littered the city; not a single house had escaped destruction. Nathanos couldn't fathom how thoroughly Arthas had destroyed it. The putrid stench mingled with the thick smoke, irritating his eyes and throat.

Some corpses lay piled together, preserved in their death poses, most unarmed. Nathanos felt a sense of disorientation; he saw children. Arthas and his soldiers, with their flawed "purification," had spared not even children.

Will these now motionless corpses rise up and attack others? Probably, but will every single one? There must be some of them who didn't eat the contaminated grain.

"Nathanos, I beg you, don't go see it. You'll never be able to get over it." Alleria's voice echoed in his mind, so fervent, yet it couldn't stop him from witnessing this scene. He also refused his lover's company, wanting only to walk alone on the charred streets.

Nathanos closed his eyes. He didn't want to think about his conversation with Arthas almost ten days ago. He had told Arthas to leave and get reinforcements, but instead, Arthas had come here to slaughter innocent people. If he hadn't been told to leave then... Nathanos suddenly felt that he was partly responsible for the tragedy here.

"Arthas, this is a trap. He is a demon you cannot defeat on your own land, how can you possibly exact revenge in Northrend?" Nathanos murmured. The Prince, thousands of miles away, could not possibly hear him, and even if he did, it would change nothing.

"So many people," she murmured. "I can't believe Arthas would do such a thing." But she knew he had. An entire city...

"Nathanos? Nathanos Marius!"

Nathanos jerked his head, jolted awake from his sorrowful thoughts by a familiar voice. It was Larein! He turned around, unexpectedly feeling a sense of relief.

Larein strode over hurriedly, but the Paladin armor he wore made Nathanos very uncomfortable.

"I saw the Ranger-General Alleria outside the city, so I guessed I would find you here."

A flicker of pain crossed Nathanos's face. "You were sent here to clean up this mess?"

"Yes, not just me, but Kasha is here too, and so is Bigal, you should remember him. We are... searching for survivors."

Nathanos didn't ask them how many people they had found; it was something he didn't always know the answer to.

"I never expected Prince Arthas to do something like this." Larein took a deep breath. "The Silver Hand has already decided to petition King Terenas to revoke the Prince's Paladin status."

"It doesn't matter," Nathanos said coldly. "He probably abandoned the Holy Light a long time ago."

Larein nodded slowly, then looked at his close friend with considerable concern, "Hearthglen..."

"It's all in the past." Nathanos's attitude surprised Larein. "I won't talk about it anymore. I want to forget it, but it's impossible. No one can forget. I'm getting married, Larein."

"Really?" Larein exclaimed. "With Alleria Windrunner? Congratulations, Nathanos."

"Yes." Nathanos nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "It may be rushed, but we all think it's time. I will go to Quel'Thalas with her next, and maybe live there from now on. I swear I will never leave her again."