Judgment Ritual

"This is bad." Illidan began to panic. He hadn't felt this way in a long time, but now he couldn't help it. Nathanos was completely still. Fel energy wasn't working well. Illidan had tried 65 times already, and he dared not increase the power any further, fearing that it might harm Nathanos. But there was no other way.

"What can I do now?" The Night Elf sat beside Nathanos, somewhat dejected. He could only wait for Nathanos to wake up. "You'd better wake up soon, or my plans will be ruined."

The chicken drumsticks were tender and crispy, with a hint of chili in the meat. They were probably sprinkled with Quel'Thalas wine—oily but not greasy, and tasted absolutely delicious! This was his mother's cooking; Nathanos never imagined he'd be eating something so wonderful. Alleria placed a glass of fine Silvermoon City fruit wine on his left.

"Thank you!" Nathanos took the drink and downed it in one gulp. The taste was exactly the same as he remembered, even better. Humanity seemed to have forgotten everything Alleria had done for him. He had forgotten that she had abandoned him at this very spot where he was eating. He couldn't recall anything Alleria had done. He only remembered their earliest memories together—their vows.

'Don't leave me, Alleria. No matter what happens, no matter what, don't leave me.'

'I never will, Nathanos. I never will!'

Everything had returned to normal. The only thing Nathanos found hard to accept was his cousin Stephan. He had grown much taller, or rather, more mature. He wore a silver-white suit of armor bearing the insignia of Lordaeron, and his sword was brand new. On his left shoulder hung the insignia of a Guards Knight, a very high rank. Nathanos was surprised. He remembered Stephan's dream was to become a knight and have his own castle; it seemed he had already achieved his dream.

As Nathanos observed Stephan, he noticed that everyone's eyes were fixed on him, even those eating. Their smiles, though genuine, were somewhat stiff and made him uncomfortable. Another strange thing was the seating arrangement. Why was he sitting in the place his father usually sat, while his father himself sat to his right? It was as if he, not his father, was now the owner of Marius Farm. To put it more bluntly, they now appeared to be in a master-servant relationship; he was the master, and everyone else, including Alleria, was the servant.

"Why are you all looking at me?" Nathanos couldn't help but ask.

"Because you are a hero, my love." Alleria's gentle voice echoed throughout the room. She took Nathanos's hand, and her sweet smile dispelled the human's doubts.

Many people have said this about him, but it always sounds a bit strange. Nathanos nodded slightly.

"I didn't do anything."

"No, my dear. Capturing Arthas is an unforgettable feat. All of Lordaeron and Quel'Thalas praise you."

What! Nathanos couldn't put those two words into words, but his expression spoke for him.

"Lord Uther is judging Arthas in Stratholme, and I've heard that King Terenas is going there too."

"Absolutely insane!" Nathanos dropped his food and frantically rushed outside. No one stopped him; it was as if everything between him and the door had been moved aside. He pushed the door open with all his might, intending to gaze at the gates of Stratholme in the distance. But the first thing he saw wasn't blue skies and white clouds, nor forests and meadows, but white brick walls and banners of all colors filling the sky. There was also the cathedral, the crowds gathered outside, the Silver Hand knights maintaining order, and the man Alleria had spoken of being judged.

Although he kept his head down, hiding his face behind his cascading, bone-grey hair, Nathanos knew who he was without needing to look closely.

"Arthas!"

The man whose name he bore was now bound hand and foot, enduring the scorn of the crowd. He knelt facing his father, Terenas Menethil, with Arthas's mother and sister Jaina standing on either side of the King. Besides them were many other prominent figures known to Nathanos, such as Admiral Daelin Proudmoore, Prince Kael'thas of Quel'Thalas, and Antonidas, leader of Dalaran, and his apprentice Jaina. Were all these people present? Some had even risen from the dead, just like him.

Is this a good thing or a bad thing?

Nathanos shook his head, scolding himself for having such thoughts. Of course, it was something to be happy about; they were all alive, and nothing could be more gratifying.

"We have gathered here to ensure that justice is served!"

The impassioned voice forced Nathanos to look up, and there stood Uther, the Lightbringer!

"Beneath the great Kingdom of Lordaeron, evil is brewing unnoticed, seeking to steal hope, stifle life, and destroy civilization." The Lightbringer's speech stirred the crowd, and the countless shouts made Nathanos uneasy. The sounds were chaotic, but one could still make out that they were demanding the trial of Arthas was kneeling on the ground.

"By the Holy Light's protection, when the tide of death swept through Lordaeron, the heroes of Lordaeron stood at the forefront, halting the coming of destruction. They successfully repelled evil and captured the one who brought calamity alive." Uther stared at the back of Arthas's head. In his eyes, Nathanos saw no disappointment or remorse, only hatred. The Paladin seemed to have forgotten that the Fallen Prince had once been his apprentice, or perhaps he was unwilling to admit it, as it would tarnish his reputation. But whatever the reason, Nathanos refused to believe it. He knew Uther; the leader of the Order of the Silver Hand was neither one to shirk responsibility nor one to be heartless. He shouldn't even be here, judging Arthas here. He should be in the church, silently praying, beseeching for the redemption of Arthas's soul.

This Uther is not the Uther from Nathanos's memories.

Nathanos tried to step forward, weaving through the crowd. As he approached the judgment seat, someone spoke again, but this time it was not a living person, but a dead one.

"I did nothing wrong!" Arthas roared, raising his head, his face even paler in the sunlight. His appearance pained Nathanos, as if he saw himself reflected in him. "I crushed the Cult of the Damned, I defeated Mal'Ganis, I destroyed the Scourge Undead ..."

"Enough! Do you think what you've done is glorious?" The voice belonged to Muradin Bronzebeard, King Magni's brother, who should have been missing long ago. "Look at the state you've become! I told you to stay away from that sword, but what have you done!"

"That's our only hope, the hope of defeating Mal'Ganis."

"At the cost of your soul?" Uther demanded.

Nathanos was stunned by the question. His mind flashed back to his experience at Felwood, after Illidan defeated Tichondrius, when his Malfurion had asked him the same question.

"I... I am still me!" Arthas shouted with all his might. "I am still Arthas. The whispers of Frostmourne tried to control me, but I defeated them. I am not a monster. I still have my own reason!"

The Prince's struggle stirred Nathanos's heart, fueling his hatred for Arthas. Arthas had slaughtered Stratholme, murdered his father, destroyed his kingdom, invaded Quel'Thalas, killed him, and transformed him into a grotesque creature. The Prince's crimes were countless and unforgivable, yet...

... But none of that has happened yet. Lordaeron is still here, Terenas is still alive, Uther is still alive, Stratholme as prosperous as ever... Everyone is here, the kingdom has not been corrupted by the Undead, it remains pure as ever. Only Arthas has changed, but only his appearance has changed; his heart remains the same, he has not become a butcher.

"Stop talking!" Those five authoritative words interrupted Arthas's defense. Cruelly, it was his father— King Terenas— who spoke.

Nathanos was curious to know what he would do with Arthas, but his presence here, sitting upright on the trial bench, seemed to have already indicated his stance.

"Continue, Sir Uther."

There was no blame, no angry rebuke, just a simple command to the inquisitor. So cruel, Nathanos could almost feel Arthas's pain—his pain was his pain too; those they cared about... no longer cared about them.

"The Holy Light will bring those who have fallen into darkness back to the right path." After Uther uttered these words, several burly Paladin began to approach Arthas. Nathanos knew they would invoke the Holy Light upon the Prince, but unlike the Paladin ascension ceremony, this time the Holy Light would tear Arthas apart.

The ceremony reached its climax with the shouts of the people, and no matter how Arthas struggled, he could not dim the Holy Light above his head. He began to become frantic and shout, but to no avail.

"I don't!"

"Enough!"