Transformation: In which a choice is made

"You had better explain, Naaru," I said, my voice dark and threatening. "You were supposed to save her, so there is only once choice between those two."

Chromie winced at my harsh tone, glancing up at the Naaru floating serenely above us and I felt a heavy hand on my arm. Sebbat's hand, no doubt trying to keep me from doing anything rash. The chiming voice in my mind was once again calming, but I was not so easily soothed this time.

{Purah Bloodblade, as one of the undead, you know that the connection to soul and body is tenuous at best. Yrovi's soul is shattered, pieces of it already swallowed up by the Twisting Nether. I have the power to make it whole again, but if I do, the undead body will reject it. Her body will be a corpse, an empty shell, and her soul will move on.}

My face fell as I knelt by her side. Surprisingly, Chromie patted my arm, comforting me as she could. "Don't lose all hope, Purah. A'dal did have another idea..."

{Yes, which is why I called you. Though death is not a terrible end, as all things must die in time, Yrovi was not meant to find this kind of death, not now. As you said, Chronormu, Yrovi's timeline has been tampered with, and this was not supposed to be her fate. The other side of this coin, then, is to change her timeline again, to prevent this from befalling her.}

The gnome-dragon nodded. "Precisely. Yrovi was not meant to come into contact with whatever it was that sucked in her soul. There is a very good chance that I can alter her timeline to ensure this fate does not occur, it's just... well..." Chromie's face fell.

"What is it, Chromie?" asked Tyra, the worry obvious on her face. I stared down at the warrior, wanting anything except her death. "Tell us."

The dragon sighed. "I'll do another sweep of time, just to be sure of my calculations, however..." she paused again, wincing. "However, from what I can see, the only way to ensure that Yrovi never meets this fate is to go pretty far back in her timeline. Far enough that I'd be changing more things than just this unfortunate end. In fact, there's no telling what may happen if I meddle in her fate, or the repercussions it will have in all of our timelines, since Yrovi has touched us all."

So that was the choice, then, I thought to myself. Either she dies, or she is never here. But A'dal had said the choice was between... It hit me then, like a punch to the gut, just what the Naaru and the dragon were saying. "Oh, gods..." I groaned.

Sebbat and Tyra understood it too, as I heard gasps from each of them in turn behind me. Karrim grunted and turned away, seemingly disgusted with the whole affair. Cobb, on the other hand, seemed strangely still. It's so damn hard to read him, I can't even tell if that fool warlock even understands what A'dal has said.

"Let her die. The Yrovi I know wouldn't want to live again. She was a proud member of the Forsaken," Karrim said coldly over his shoulder. "I wash my hands of it. If any of you lot need me for anything, you know where to find me." He moved away and then disappeared in a flash of light, teleporting away.

"Damn him for leaving like that!" Tyra said angrily, but Sebbat gestured for her to calm herself.

"Karrim is a true Forsaken, Tyra, and cannot understand the position the rest of us are in. There is little room in his heart for compassion. Besides, I think this has hit him harder than he expected. He told me once that Yrovi had given him the willpower to be more than just a tool for vengeance. She taught him to enjoy his life after death, to explore and learn and become a better mage, not just for the glory of the Dark Lady, but for himself. I think the thought of her being gone for good frightens him a little, and he cannot bear to stay here any longer."

Tyra seemed satisfied, but I wasn't. I sat beside her and held one of her bony hands in my own, wondering if the pain in my chest would ever ease. What would I wish for her? No, that's not the question I should be asking... What would Yrovi want for herself? I thought of the days we would ride through the plaguelands, where she would tell me stories of her youth in Lordaeron. I thought of the days that we would fight, side-by-side, slaughtering Scourge, reveling in our power and skill. Of the stories we traded over the campfire of our experiences with the Lich King and how we escaped his power to be free again... Free again.

"There are worse things than death, you know," Tyra finally said, quiet. "I have seen terrible things, and terrible fates for men and women who fight the wars of this world. As a healer, I often must try to save them from their own foolishness, pull them back from the brink of death, even revive those who have passed beyond the reach of simple healing or the skilled touch of a field medic... and I've come to realize that death is probably pretty peaceful." I saw a single tear on her cheek before she wiped it away. "Yrovi was strong, and brave, and bold. She didn't fear death, or undeath. I think she'd want to go out fighting, like any good warrior, but I also think she'd enjoy peace."

With that she looked up to A'dal and nodded, and I knew she had told the glowing being to make her soul whole again and let her pass on. I found myself hating her for it. Sebbat and Cobb still hadn't made their choices for Yrovi. It suddenly seemed so wrong that this was how her final fate was determined, by us and not her.

Sebbat shook his head. "While Yrovi would no doubt like peace, I think she would like life better. Yrovi was always curious to me. I found her fascinating, her interest in life, in protecting others. As a Druid, I wanted to nurture that in her, and she spoke to me of her life and how she sometimes missed it." He turned to Chromie and continued, "If you can alter her history so that she does not die in the first place, I think she would be pleased."

The tauren's words echoed in my own heart. To live again... what I wouldn't give to feel my heart beating, and the air in my lungs, and the sun on my face. "I agree," I found myself saying. "Yrovi wasn't afraid of anything. And she'll find peace. One way or another. As you said, A'dal, all things must die, and humans in particular have such short lives. Let her live hers as she was meant to." I realized, then, that I would never meet her if she lived, and part of me regretted my words, but I didn't say anything more. I would rather she live and be happy having never met me, than have her die like this, in the darkness of that evil, her soul shredded and marred, even if A'dal can make her whole again. I would rather have never met her, than have her die like this.

I realized that it was Cobb's decision that would determine her fate. He realized it, too, it seemed, as his eyes were shut tightly. His imp minion tugged lightly on his tattered robes in concern, his squeaky voice uttering words I couldn't make out.

{He would have you hear his words, Purah. Will you listen?} Surprised, I turned to look at the warlock, and for the first time I saw the undead man as more than just a rotted, walking corpse. There was emotion in his eyes, one I knew was echoed in my own, and one that I was shocked to find there: Love. Love for Yrovi. Love that ran so deep that it was beyond the reach of the numbness that came with undeath. There was fear there, too, though, and I was afraid of what he'd say.

{I don't know what to do, Purah.} The voice wasn't the chiming of the Naaru. It sounded young, and scared, and... almost fragile. It was nothing like what I expected. {I know that you love her. I do, too, though she would never have... well. It doesn't matter now, does it? Karrim and Tyra say to let her die, to find everlasting peace, and I want to. I want her to feel happy again, but...} the voice in my mind trailed off as Cobb looked away, his yellow eyes glazing over, his hand clutching the soulstone he had used in the failed attempt at saving Yrovi.

"But you fear what will happen if she dies... If you know that her light, her energy, is gone from the world forever."

He nodded. {The thought of Yrovi not existing in the world makes it a much darker place. She was meant to help others, to protect others, just as she has helped and protected each of us. How many will die if she's not in the world in some capacity or another? I would have fallen in to madness without her guidance.} He turned to the Naaru and the gnome, his voice silent again. I looked at him with a new respect, not realizing just what kind of mind he had, the thoughts and emotions locked inside a body long past repair.

{It is decided, then.} A'dal's chiming voice finally said. Cobb and I looked at one another, and I could tell we both hoped we made the right choice. Tyra turned away, unable to watch, and Sebbat did his best to comfort her.

A little fearful, I moved back as Chromie reached out and touched Yrovi's pale face. The gnome-dragon shimmered and Yrovi seemed to fade in and out as the time-traveler adjusted the timeline: pale bones were suddenly covered with flesh that changed from deathly pale to rosy and lively, and her golden eyes, almost dark, flared with life again, changing to a hazel hue that fluttered open and blinked, seeing me. She smiled, though it seemed sad.

{You had better say your goodbye. The timeline is changing and all of you will be changed with it.}

I leaned down and looked her in the eyes. She seemed confused, and suddenly very fragile. "I love you, Yrovi Greenfield of Lordaeron. Remember that, always." I brushed my cold lips against hers, now red and full of life. I was surprised and pleased to feel her return the gesture and whisper "I'll remember."

Cobb shuffled closer as she sat up, my hand supporting her as she stood, still fading in and out as the time-stream started to take her back. She stared down at hands that were whole, then looked up to A'dal. "Thank you." She whispered, and turned back to us. "Thanks to all of you." She looked at Cobb as she said it, and reached her hand out to him, which he took gently. "Don't ever be afraid of who you are, Cobb."

Sebbat and Tyra nodded to her in farewell, and she turned to me one last time, her eyes shining with tears. "Where I go, you can't follow, death knight, but it doesn't matter. Part of me will be with you, always." She placed a warm hand on my chest, over my heart. "Remember that you are not the Lich King's and never will be again. Remember that undeath is just another way of saying a second chance. Remember..."

She was gone, as was Chromie. I stood under A'dal, the Naaru's light cascading down all around me, and felt the sorrow wash over me. I embraced it, letting it fill me, knowing that it was an emotion I shouldn't be able to feel, and loved the fact that I still could, no matter how painful it may be.

{The only gift I can give you now, is a memory of her to keep. Because she never became one of the undead, when you leave my light, you will forget you met her, forget she was once your ally. Think of how you want to remember her, and go with my blessings.}

Sebbat and Tyra left first, sad, but content. I thought of all the moments we had shared together, all the times we found peace in each other's company, and I found it impossible to choose only one. I realized that I didn't want to remember her as I had known her, that it would be an insult to consolidate our friendship into a single moment.

"Let me remember her as she left, as a living, breathing woman, rather than the Forsaken I knew. Let me remember her parting words." I felt the chiming song in my mind, and closed my eyes to see her living face imprinted on my mind as clear as if she stood there now. If I was still capable of tears, I would have shed them.

Cobb nodded as well and we turned to go. I glanced at him, wondering what memory he chose.

"None of 'ya business, what the Master chose, elfy," his minion said, voice high-pitched and grating. I considered kicking the little demon, but simply shrugged and nodded to the warlock. He summoned his fel charger and rode slowly away towards the lower city, his eyes blank, his hand still clutched around the soulstone. As I watched him go, I felt tired and worn.

I glanced back one more time to the glowing chamber of the Naaru. A'dal hung there, serenely, the swirl of light the Naaru created illuminating the city. It felt so strange to be standing here... I was supposed to be in Northrend, wasn't I? I had tasks to complete...

I shrugged it off, the feeling slowly passing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chromie entering A'dal's chamber, and wondered what she was up to, and if she was the reason I felt befuddled. Damn bronze dragons, always meddling in the affairs of the mortals. As I lifted off into the night sky, I stared up at the stars and thought they were beautiful, and wondered why my lips felt so warm, and the echo of a woman's voice sounded in my mind.

...Remember.

((And that's that! Yrovi will get a few new stories that deal with her human self and Purah and gang will get different stories, too, now that Yrovi doesn't exist in the same way as before. That's not to say that they'll never meet again. I mean, Dalaran is neutral, you know!))

Transformation: In which a Naaru calls a Gnome

The chiming voice was soothing, calming, and warm. It filled my mind, and pushed back the dark thoughts and feelings that had nearly overwhelmed me... feelings that I thought I had completely overcome. It seems that the Lich King had trained me too well.

{Bring her to me} it chimed again, a little louder, as though to drown out my dark thoughts of death and blood.

I obeyed, leaning over her to gently scoop Yrovi up. Sebbat, Tyra, Karrim, and the still slightly shaken Cobb followed close behind me to the central chamber in Shattrath. There, hovering above the dais, in bright, shining glory, was A'dal. It was A'dal's chiming voice that urged me forward with Yrovi in my arms. The Naaru's voice was more obvious here, and yet not overwhelming. A little spark of hope flared in my cold heart.

I placed her beneath the great Naaru and bowed my head low. "Please," I said, quiet, pleading. "Please. Save her. If you can, save her. She deserves your mercy."

The light from the floating being of Light pulsed a bit and radiated down onto Yrovi's prone form.

{Mercy? An interesting word to use, Death Knight. Interesting, but fitting, perhaps, for one such as you. Yrovi had mercy, too. She, unlike so many of the Forsaken, clung to old memories of love, kindness, and hope. Through her strong will, she did not dispair, did not turn fully to the darkness of vengeance and hatred so common amongst the undead.} The song-voice turned a little sour, slightly off key, as though sad. {And she will need all her willpower now, as her soul has been shredded and pulled into the Nether by some old power.}

I clenched my fists and shut my eyes tightly. No wonder Cobb could not pull her soul into his crystal... it is beyond the reach of any mortal, now.

"Please!" I pleaded again, more urgently, knowing every minute that passed could be her last. "If there is anything you can do, great Naaru, do it! She means a great deal to us. To me."

I hadn't wanted to admit the truth about my feelings for her. I hadn't wanted to admit that she made me feel alive, and whole, and truly free. I hadn't wanted to admit that she made me feel love again. It shouldn't have been possible. I shouldn't have wanted it so badly. Yet... here I was, practically on my knees before a being that should make me cower in shame, begging for aid. Me, a Death Knight, a former member of the Scourge, an undead killing machine, begging...

{Let us see what can be done, then, Purah Bloodblade, though you may not like the choice that must be made, and it will not be you alone who will make it.}

The chiming in my mind grew louder then and seemed to spread out, into the world and beyond. The air grew still, then almost warm, and then hot. I closed my eyes, feeling the pressure build and wondering what the Naaru had done, when I heard a tiny pop and the heat and pressure vanished.

A high-pitched, bubbly voice spoke out, "Goodness, A'dal. If you needed to see me so badly, I wish you'd find another way to call on me. That was a bit uncomfortable." I spun around quickly, my runeblade finding its way to my hand automatically, before I realized just who it was.

"Chronormu," Sebbat said, his voice deep and full of respect. He nodded a greeting to the tiny gnome dressed in white and bronze. My eyes grew wide, as I had only heard stories of the well-known dragon of the bronze flight. Somehow, I had expected someone taller... and more... male.

The little gnome giggled quietly and returned the greeting, then turned to each of my comrades in turn. "Tyralina, hello again! And Karrim and Cobb still together, I see... huh, strange. Or is it not? Sorry, I do lose track of timelines now and again." The two undead glanced at each other, obviously wondering if the dragon-gnome was speaking of the past before they met, or of a future event yet to come. She turned to me then, a small smile on her face. "Oh. Purah Bloodblade. We meet at last. Or, have we met before?"

I shook my head, wary of the dragon. "No, we have not, though I am hoping that if A'dal brought you here, it is to help Yrovi." At the mention of the undead warrior's name, Chromie glanced past my legs to see the comatose Forsaken. "Oh, dear... what happened? This doesn't seem familiar to me at all..."

She pushed past me and knelt by Yrovi's side. "This wasn't meant to be in her timeline, A'dal. Someone or something has meddled with her." Chromie was silent, then, her head tilted up slightly as though listening to something. A'dal's voice, no doubt, speaking words mere mortals aren't meant to hear. My eyes narrowed in distrust as my inner voice grew bitter. I knew, deep in my heart, that I had no right to ask grand favors of creatures like the Naaru or the dragons. I had done horrific things in service of the Lich King, and I had not been a brave soul in life, either. I had a great deal of blood on my hands. Still, Yrovi had done heroic things, great things, in service of the Argent Dawn and the Horde...

{Listen now all friends of Yrovi. You who are her closest friends and allies must make a choice and it must not be made lightly.}

The chiming seemed a little off key to me, as though unsure. I turned to stare up at the Naaru's glittering form, my mind set and prepared.

"What choice, great one?" asked Sebbat.

A pause as the chiming nearly stopped entirely. {You much choose if Yrovi lives... or truly dies again.}

((Fail for me. Not only did I initially use the triangular-shaped brackets for A'dal's voice (which cause the text to dissapear, since it's used for HTML code) but I didn't save the Naaru's speech, so I had to write it again. Also, I totally realized that the first part of Transformation was written in third person perspective instead of first, so I'll have to go back and fix that, too. The story is nearly finished, and I'm really pleased with it, surprisingly. Most of the stuff I write I end up disliking at some point (like Brothers, which I'm actually in the process of reworking entirely), but I'm really digging this one.))

Transformation: In which healing fails

Sebbat, changed into a living tree, swayed back and forth, chanting quietly, his amber, bark-covered limbs glowing brightly with the power of his healing magics. Yrovi lay on the ground at his roots, bathed in the green light. Tyra, a Sin'dorei paladin, had joined the druid in his work, and the golden power of the Light flowed and intertwined with the power of nature.

I watched, silent, worried. Though I could tell that both of them were pouring all their power and knowledge into helping her, she didn't awaken... she didn't even move. I sat quietly, unmoving, my gaze unwavering, with the patience that only the dead have. I didn't even stir when I was joined on each side by familiar Forsaken.

"No change, then?" asked the one on my right, his voice gravelly. I said nothing. He shrugged a bit, and watched our leader and the paladin work. His companion glanced my way, but said nothing... though this was not unusual, since he was missing his jaw. Karrim and Cobb, a mage and warlock, one rarely seen without the other. The warlock's imp minion opened his mouth to speak, but, thankfully, Cobb silenced him with a kick. The last thing I wanted to hear was that screeching voice, no matter what it was meaning to say.

Slowly, the glow from Sebbat and Tyra faded, and I could see sweat beading on the lady's face. Even Sebbat appeared ashen, his usually golden leaves almost grey in the starlight. Yrovi still hadn't moved.

The paladin approached me, her face wary. "Purah," she began, and my gaze shifted from the comatose warrior to her green eyes. She winced and took a half step back, but continued, "We don't understand... Everything we do, every spell we use, all the power we pour into her body and soul is simply absorbed. Nothing we do seems to work. I'm... I'm so sorry."

She moved to lay a hand gently on my arm, but Karrim blocked her, shaking his head. He knew me well, and knew that the last thing I wanted was a comforting touch. I felt cold inside... empty and dark, and I could feel my eyes unfocus as her words set in. "Nothing?" I stood slowly, feeling a dangerous strength build inside, and though Tyra was tall, I still stood over her. "Nothing?" My voice was nearly a whisper, but it hit her with force, and she took another step back, her expression worried. My fingers twitched near my runeblade's hilt.

"Enough, 'Rah," the undead mage said, quickly moving to block my path. "We'll find something that will help, some way to bring her back, pull her out of this..."

I didn't notice that Cobb had pushed past us, his tattered robes sweeping the stone as he shuffled quickly over to Yrovi. His imp cowered a bit, but followed obediently after. The jaw-less warlock pulled out a ceremonial dagger, one that had seen a great deal of use, from the looks of it, and used it to cut open Yrovi's arm. I wanted to stop him, but if Sebbat and Tyra couldn't save her, then I'd let him try, no matter how terrible the magic.

She had no blood to bleed, but the athame didn't seem to need actual blood for whatever spell the warlock was hatching, as a stream of dark magic pulsed between him and Yrovi as soon as the cut was made. His yellow eyes glazed over and flickered, and what was left of his face contorted into a grimace of what appeared to be pain. I knew something was wrong when even his imp began to keen. He shuddered, then, and collapsed to his knees, but still the spell continued, unwavering, through his sheer force of will.

I moved to stand at his side, and though I wasn't fond of Cobb, or his magic, I placed a hand on his bony shoulder to steady him. He seemed lost in his spell, whatever it was, and reached into his robe to pull out a light-purple crystal, a soul shard, I realized. The magical bind that linked him to our warrior pulsed and brightened, swirling up and into the crystal. It filled it with light... and then vanished, the spell broken. Yrovi remained still, and Cobb seemed exhausted with the effort. The soulstone was dark.

His imp coughed and sputtered, clutching at its neck, "It... it was too powerful... the thing, the blackness that has her. I couldn't pull her out. I couldn't..." The voice was forced, and less grating than usual, and I guessed that Cobb had spoken through the little demon. I squeezed his shoulder in silent thanks, though the demon looked irritated.

"You tried, at least. For that, I thank you," I said quietly, so that the warlock alone could hear. I felt as I had when I had died. I could feel nothing but pain, and my mind was clouded with grief. Cold gripped my heart and turned it to stone, just as it had when I had been raised from the dead to serve the Lich King... and then, I heard a gentle chiming in my head, and a warm light that melted my frozen heart again, pushing back the cold.

{Bring her to me.}