It was supposed to be so simple. Just a favour; a bit of work Vittani had asked Traejan to accompany her with.
But Vittani had her own pull there in the Caverns thanks to her time spent learning from the Bronzeflight and Tahlran by extension. They didn't just undertake a mission, she'd shown him the war. The first. The horrors of the War of the Ancients. Demons pouring out in numbers that seemed inconceivable to him. Things were bad on the Broken Isles, but this was in its own class. The histories, even those penned by ancestors who had lived through it, didn't do it justice when you witnessed it with your own eyes.
And after that, Traejan understood why she felt so strongly about getting into the fight. His motivations had always been greed and power. It was less “save the world" and more “how to profit from saving the world". Of course, he wasn't blind or so cruel that he didn't grasp the weight of what they were doing. He was helping to preserve a better world for his children and family to live on in. But he never truly understood how literally world shattering that had been.
But that was fine. That he grasped.
Then, they went to Hyjal. The presence of the Scourge left him puzzled. It wasn't all ignorance -- plenty of knowledge had been altered after his death. Indoctrination, of sorts. Arthas Menethil was his King. Arthas Menethil had led the Scourge through Quel’thalas and in doing so, Traejan lost his life. But through the Lich King’s power, he gained another. While others balked and served unwillingly, Traejan had been loyal. He owed his King. His service, as he envisioned it, repaid a debt. A debt he'd be paying as long as he existed. And that was fine.
But Hyjal.. Hyjal rattled him to the core. Scourge in Kalimdor. His King nowhere to be found. Necromancers bellowing about the Master that was not any he was aware of. The powerful Lich that yelled a rallying cry. The Legion would prevail.
Things started fraying and unraveling then, even with Vittani's explanations and assurances. She'd done her best. And when they were through he smiled and said, “I'm okay.”
In the morning, he smiled and said, “I'm fine. Go to work with a clear head. I'm fine.”
But nothing could have been further from the truth.
He'd tried to work, tried opening his Gate to Acherus as usual, but he couldn't. Instead, he used his generator. Traveled to Icecrown. He didn't venture into the Citadel, where the new King reigned. But he was close. The Halls of Reflection were open and abandoned. But it had been a place the former King had visited. It wasn't so much that he was lamenting that loss, but the place felt.. warm, somehow. Familiar. When he sat down on the steps leading to the elevated throne -- he would never assume he ever had the right to actually sit in it -- he was already lost in his thoughts.
Traejan had brought books with him and enough alcohol to kill a mortal man. Hours, he spent there. Pouring over readings while he drained that supply. By the time he'd written Rosefica he was already cracking.
Talking illuminated some things. Good, bad, and in between. He was well aware that he was a mess and that she had to see him in that state. Drunk enough that he couldn't see straight after a while. Not that he did a thing to stop it. He only could regret that she'd had to witness it.
But Rose was doing her best and for a moment she'd almost gotten through to him.
Even before he'd learned the truth of things he'd been suffering. Even through his joking and enthusiasm about everything. His new power, his new purpose. Profits. He didn't know why he was suffering despite all that and his family too until he realised it then. The lies. His life was built on them. Lying to the Horde and the Alliance was easy. He had no qualms about it. But he'd lied to Vittani. Rose. Even Aegnas. There were the ones Vittani caught him in and others so natural and so well-covered he didn't think she even suspected.
She didn't know truly how dangerous it could really get for him. She didn't know how, despite that, how irresponsible he was. Drinking used to be.. recreational. Or something needed when things went sideways and he'd sit with Rose and forget about their troubles over brandy. Sharing fine wine at home with Vittani.
Now? Now it was hard to get through the day without. He was functional, but it removed his inhibitions where he might have been more cautious. If Vittani or the others knew how bad it was, they never mentioned it. He'd gone into and survived enough battles not to think anything of it. And even after he'd been injured he knew he probably wouldn't change.
But none of it was their fault, even if they said nothing.
He saw Rose happy. Engaged to be married. She didn't call on him for late night talks; she had Eridan for that now. Aegnas.. he wasn't sure. But he had doors opening for him he hadn't before. Everyone seemed happy. Which wasn't to say he wasn't, but there was something that made him feel like he couldn't face his own thoughts anymore. He didn't resent the others at all; he only wondered why he wasn't as happy as he should've been himself.
Undeath was all he had in absolute certainty. He would never be able to survive if he ever found a way to be alive again. He'd be begging to be turned again at once. Now even that was shaken and it felt like the ground he considered his foundation was getting ready to open up and swallow him whole.
What he'd been seeking in the Halls.. he wasn't certain. Answers? Reassurance? But the King had no time for such things, nor did Traejan think for a moment that he might be so special as to receive His attention. The echoes of ghosts and malevolent old energies lingered in that place, but it told him.. nothing.
But Rose had reassured him. And he was going to be willing to try. Even if he didn't feel like being a burden, he wanted to try.
And then, when he was already down, life found another way to kick him when he was vulnerable. He could sense it when she'd first gotten hurt, could feel it through their link. See through Vittani's own eyes, even. If Rosefica hadn't been there, he wondered if he would've been able to move or if he'd just sit there, too stunned and panic-ridden to act swiftly. And that was before she was cut off from him entirely. No matter how much he tried to find their link there now there was only silence.
It was a blur after that. Dalaran. Writing to Telarion. The distant way Rosefica’s voice sounded to his ears as she helped guide him as to what to do next. His thoughts were too puzzling, too hard to sort out and put together.
Only when he overheard what Tactician Tinderfell had said that he found his anger again. His drive and his rage, all drawing from his frustrations and worry. He'd hit Tahlran, as he felt the Dragonsworn deserved, but he could see the guilt and misery in the other man's eyes. His own desperation mirrored back at him.
“She took off a ring and placed it in the ground nearby, as a marker to begin a search, it seems, but Lord Lightrend, I ought to warn you…” Tinderfell sighed heavily, bearing the weight of being the messenger here.
“Not all those cliffs are entirely sheer, from the top to the water, and where she fell from--... She could have sustained injuries too severe from the fall alone…”
A warning. But.. more than that. He didn't have to try to read between the lines much to see it. What Tinderfell didn't want to say. What Tahlran didn't want to give voice to either.
Let's not kid ourselves -- your wife is most likely dead.
This was war. Death, as he knew intimately, was a part of it. It was the diplomatic way of saying it, but someone as experienced as the Tactician was likely as familiar as he was when it came to the odds of a happy outcome to situations this dire.
Traejan Lightrend always put up a fight. Stubborn to a fault. But when he tried to reach for that.. there was nothing. Emptiness. The words echoing in his mind. The look of utter devastation on Tahlran’s face..
He didn't realise he fallen until he'd hit the ground. Hard. Sitting there, on the spot. His eyes looked dull and he said nothing.
If Vittani was dead, the last things he'd said to her had been lies. He'd never see her again. The dreams and hopes they'd had would be utterly dashed. Had that been why she'd talked to him about getting properly married or reiterating how much she loved and needed him? Had she sensed this somehow? There was a certain sense of finality to it that he'd noticed.
It wasn't as if he didn't want to fight. He wanted to rush outside and fly to where she'd last been seen. He wanted to call in ghouls.. other Knights under his command. Whatever it took. He wanted it more than anything.
Paralysed, frozen to the spot. No pleading with his father or anyone could fix this. The faces of the hunters held only despair and an uncomfortable truth. And Traejan couldn't move.
Is this what feeling truly broken is like..?
If anyone was saying anything at all, it too felt distant. He was detached. The only thing he could do was reach for his belt and his flask, draining it of its potent drink. That was clear when he dropped it beside him, empty.
He wasn't even sure if he'd said the words aloud or not.
