Chapter 13 Chapter Thirteen

Three days later, Miss Jaina Proudmoore was walking the streets of Stratholme.This was once a proud city, the pride of Northern Lordaeron.Now, it was a nightmare scene. It stinks.She covered her face with a handkerchief sprinkled with tranquilizing toilet water, and slightly filtered out the unbearable smell.The fire that should have been extinguished was still burning, and Jaina realized that it was the work of some kind of dark magic.The acrid black smoke stung her eyes, while the stench of rotting corpses irritated her throat. They remained in a fallen position, most unarmed.Jaina felt dazed, walking cautiously among the swollen corpses.Tears welled up from her eyes and ran down her cheeks.She sobbed softly in pain, and Arthas and his men did not spare the child, although they thought it was a kindness.

If Arthas hadn't killed them, would the immobile corpses have turned into undead and attacked her?Maybe.Of course, many will.Those grains were indeed distributed and eaten.But does everyone really do? She didn't know, and neither did he. "Jianna—I beg you again, come with me." His voice was real, but his mind was already thousands of miles away. "He ran away. I prevented him from making the whole city his slaves, but—he escaped at the last moment. He's in Northrend. Come with me." Jaina closed her eyes.She didn't want to echo that conversation from a day and a half ago.She didn't want to recall his expression at that time, cold and angry, repulsive, wanting to kill this dreadlord at all costs.Holy Light, that is a demon.

She staggered over a corpse, her eyes popping wide again in terror.It was caused by the man she loved once... still loved, no matter what he did.She doesn't know why, how she can still love him now, but may the Light forgive, she loves him—"Arthas—this is a trap. He's a demon lord. If he has the power to St... Stratholme hides from you, and he's sure to beat you on his own ground, where he's strongest. Don't go... please..." She wanted to throw herself into his arms and hold him by her side.He couldn't go to Northrend, that would be his own death.For all the people he'd killed, Jaina would never want him to lose his life.

"With so many dead," she whispered, "I can't believe Arthas did it." Yet she knew it was him.The whole city... "Jaina? Jaina Proudmoore!" Jaina was startled, the familiar voice jolting her out of an uncomfortable trance.Uther. She turned in the direction of the greeting with a strange relief.Uther had always made her feel a little intimidated, he was so powerful and... er... so determined to the Light.She recalled with some guilt that when she and Arthas were young, they would always make fun of Uther's piety, dismissing him as a pompous hypocrisy.He was really an easy target.But just three days ago, both she and Uther stood up against Alsace.

"You swore you would never turn me down, Jaina," Arthas accused, his voice as sharp as a frozen blade. "But just when I needed your assistance and your understanding the most, you turned against me." "I... you... Arthas, we don't know enough—" "And now, you're refusing to help. I'm going to Northrend, Jaina. I want you with me. Help me destroy evil. Won't you come with me?" Uther noticed Jaina flinching, but said nothing.Despite the sweltering heat of the unnatural fire, he was walking toward her in full plate armor.His appearance was no longer a fear to her, but more a symbol of strength and firmness.Instead of hugging her, he held her arm comfortingly.

"I know I can find you here. Where is he, girl? Where did Arthas take the fleet?" Jaina's eyes widened. "fleet?" Uther snorted affirmatively. "He called up the entire naval fleet of Lordaeron and took them all away. He left only the simplest message to his father. We don't understand why the army obeys the command of the commander without direct orders. .” Jaina smiled regretfully at him. "Because he's their prince, he's Arthas, the people love him. They don't know... about here." A gleam of pain flashed across Uther's rough face, and he nodded. "Yes," he said softly, "he has always been kind to his servants. They know he treats them with sincerity, and they pledge their allegiance to him to the death."

It's a pity to keep him silent.This was the case, at least it had been, and Arthas had deserved this eternal loyalty. "And now, you refuse to lend a helping hand..." Uther rocked her gently, bringing her back to reality. "Do you know where he might have taken them, boy?" Jaina took a deep breath. "He came to me before he left. I begged him not to go. I told him it was like a trap—" "Where are you going?" Uther snapped. "Northrend. He went to Northrend to hunt down Mel'Ganis. That demon lord is responsible for this plague. Arthas failed to defeat him...here."

"A demon lord? That dead child!" Jaina was taken aback by Uther's outburst. "I have to report to Tenaris." "I'm trying to stop him." Jaina repeated. "Then...and when he..." She gestured helplessly to the incalculable number of people around her. of the deceased.For the thousandth time it occurred to her that if she had stopped this...if she had touched Arthas with the right words, if he had been persuaded. "But I failed." I'm sorry for you, Alsace.I'm sorry for these people - I'm sorry for myself. Uther's heavily armored hands fell on her bony shoulders. "Don't blame yourself too much, girl."

She smiled seriously, "Am I being so obvious?" "Anyone with a heart would think so, I know, and I do too." Hearing this, she looked up at him in surprise. "You too?" Jaina asked. Uther nodded, his eyes were bloodshot from fatigue, and the deep pain completely surprised her. "I can't make him my enemy, he's still my prince. But I wonder... can I really stop him? Say something else? Do something else?" Uther shook his head and sighed. "Maybe, maybe not, but the past is in the past, and I can't change my choice. You and I must look to the future. Jaina Proudmoore, you have nothing to do with this... massacre. Thank you for telling me he whereabouts."

She lowered her head, "I feel like betraying him again." "Jaina, you might have saved him—and all those who would follow him no matter what he became." She was stunned by Uther's words, and looked up suddenly. "To what? He's still Arthas, Uther!" Uther's eyes were full of trouble. "Yes, he was, but he made a terrible decision—and we've seen the consequences. I don't know if he'll ever recover." Uther turned to look at the dead man. "We know that the dead can be raised as undead, and those demons are real. What I'm wondering now is whether there are such things as ghosts. If there are, there will be many around our prince." He bowed to her Bow, "Come on, get out of this place, miss."

She shook her head. "No, not now. I'm not ready yet." He looked at her inquiringly, then nodded. "As you wish, Miss Jaina Proudmoore. May the Light be with you." "You too, Uther the Messenger of Light." She smiled at him as best she could, and watched Uther leave.No doubt Arthas would see this as another betrayal, but if it would save his life... then she was willing to take it. The smell intensified until finally Jaina could stand it no longer and stopped to take one last look.She asked herself why she came here; another voice in her head answered.She had come here to engrave these images in her heart, to understand the weight of what had happened.She can't, never can forget.She didn't know if Arthas would recall the past, but what happened here must not be just a footnote in the history book. A crow circled and slowly fell.She wanted to rush forward to blast it away, to protect the poor bruised corpses.But the bird did it out of instinct, it didn't have the conscience to tell if it hurt human feelings.She looked at the crow for a moment, then her eyes widened. It began to enlarge and deform, and in an instant, a carrion bird became a person.With a gasp, she recognized the man as the prophet she had met twice. "you!" He tilted his head and showed a weird smile, as if saying silently, I know you too.This was the third time Jaina had seen him—once when he was talking to Antonidas, and again with Arthas.She was invisible both times, and apparently her invisibility hadn't fooled him once. "The dead of this land will rest for a while, but don't be deceived, your prince will find nothing but death in the cold north." His bluntness scared her a little. "Arthas was just doing what he believed was right." She knew it was true.Whatever he did wrong, Arthas sincerely believed that purging Stratholme was the only option. The Prophet's gaze softened. "That may be commendable," he said, "but his enthusiasm will be the source of his failure. The responsibility now falls to you, young mage." "What? Me?" "Antonidas will not listen to me, nor will Tenaris and Arthas. The leaders of men and masters of magic are deaf to the truth. But I think you may not." The power he exuded was so tangible that Jaina could almost see the powerful, blinding energy swirling around him.He came forward and put a hand on her shoulder.She looked at him in bewilderment. "You must lead the people to the ancient continent of Kalimdor in the west. Only there can you fight the shadows and save the world from the flames." He was right.Jaina looked into his eyes, and there was no domination, no compulsion; just a knowing depth and confidence that seemed to see her right down to the bone. "I..." She swallowed hard, took one last look at the terror created by the person she once loved and still loved, and nodded. "I'll do as you say." And leave my Alsace to his chosen fate.There is no other way. "It's going to take time to get all the people together and get them to trust me." "I don't think you have that much time. Too much has been wasted." Jaina raised her chin. "I can't try and walk away without even trying. If you know me that well, you know that." The Crow Prophet looked a little more relaxed, smiling and pressing her shoulder. "Do what you think you should do, but don't delay too long. The hourglass is emptying fast. Delay means death." She nodded, speechless for a moment.There are so many people to talk to - first of all Antonidas.If there was anyone he might listen to, it was her, she thought.She would testify to the dead, to how foolish it was not to flee to Kalimdor while the people were still alive. The Prophet shrunk and deformed, and became the big black bird again, flapping its wings and flying away.Somehow, when he passed her face, there was no smell of carrion or gunpowder smoke or death in the wind of those black wings, it smelled clean and fresh. It was a breath of hope.