True Knight

“Arise, Blood Knight of Silvermoon,” Lady Liadrin spoke as she gently tapped each of Keldren’s shoulders with her longsword. Keldren stood proudly and faced his commander.

Lady Liadrin smiled. “This is a glorious day. For today, Keldren Silverblade of House Aravel has received the full ranking of Blood Knight and will receive all the privileges and responsibilities that the title entails.” She sheathed her blade and placed her hand on Keldren’s shoulder. “Serve the Order with honor and glory, fellow knight.”

There was a roar of applause from the audience. Most of the audience were represented by the scores of adepts who dreamed of one day reaching this level of achievement. Some were veteran knights, now equal comrades who wanted to congratulate a new member of their Order. And of course, there was Keldren’s family, the remainder of House Aravel, a noble house that was decimated by the Third War. Matheus and Lhorynna, both great and respected paladins, cheered proudly for their son. Keldren’s uncle Rommir and his family were there as well.

Eventually the congratulations ended and the other elves returned to their work. Keldren was finally alone, eager to leave Silvermoon and begin his career as a blood knight. He was stopped by Lady Liadrin.

“I wanted to make sure before I left that you have received your mount,” Lady Liadrin said to Keldren. “Were you trained to summon your warhorse?”

“Yes, Lady Liadrin,” Keldren replied. “The trainers taught me the proper way to channel the Light to summon Aramis.”

“Aramis?” Lady Liadrin said. “Already named the horse?”

“Surprised?”

“Hardly,” she grinned. “I named my first warhorse when I started the Academy myself. It’s just good to see another elf so eager to be a knight.”

“It is what I am.”

Keldren entered the throne room of Undercity, his permission for an audience with the Dark Lady approved. The large room was illuminated by eerie greenish flames from wall mounted torches. Sylvanas Windrunner was sitting alone. Keldren wondered why there were no guards but he quickly let that thought pass. It would take a sizeable army to penetrate the bowels of Undercity and the Dark Lady was not a simple or easy target. He knew she could easily strike him down with one blast of her shadowy magic.

“Thank you Dark Lady for granting me your audience,” Keldren said as he bowed to her.

“I knew your father,” she responded. “The son of Matheus Aravel does not need to engage me in such formalities. Speak freely.”

“You are gracious, Dark Lady,” Keldren stood tall and addressed her directly making eye contact with the leader of the Forsaken.

“I hear you dispatched Arugal?” Sylvanas asked.

“His defenses were many but I still managed to defeat him.”

“Very well done,” Sylvanas said. “You are on your way to becoming a Master Knight.”

Unable to figure out a way to present his question easily, Keldren decided on a somewhat direct approach. “I am trying, Dark Lady,” he said, “but it is the matter of Arugal in which I wish to speak to you. He revealed some information but I wish to hear what you have to say in regards to his comments.”

Sylvanas leaned back on her throne.

“Arugal knew he could not defeat me in a fair fight,” Keldren explained, “so he used cunning and treachery to catch me off-guard. He questioned my faith in the Light.”

The Dark Lady looked intrigued.

“He questioned how a paladin of Light could serve Undercity, which he felt was the complete opposite of what the Light represented. Then he mentioned a plague…”

Sylvanas peaked an eyebrow. She now knew why Keldren was here.

“You question your loyalty to the Light and to the Forsaken?” she asked.

“Yes milady.”

She stood up and approached Keldren. “If you were not Matheus’ son, I would not bother giving you any explanation. Your defeat of Arugal did not earn the right to question my motives in such a manner. But I will answer you, just this once only because of your father. Just know that you have used up your influence with me and you will from this day forth earn your right to speak with me through your own actions.”

Keldren nodded.

“The plague was designed to crush our enemies,” she explained. “It would not have been used on the Horde and certainly not against Silvermoon. It was an effort to build the army of the Forsaken so we could strike back at Arthas.”

“But how is that any different from him?” Keldren knew he overstepped his bounds the moment he finished the question.

Sylvanas turned to him, anger fueling dark shadows around her. “Do not compare me with that fiend!” she shouted. “I would have you struck down for your insolence.”

“My apologies. I overstepped my bounds.”

Seemingly calmed down, Keldren almost thought he heard her sigh. Sylvanas seemed melancholy, reflecting over past memories. “The torture and suffering I experienced is beyond anything you know Keldren. Every Forsaken you see endured terrible pain. We are not the same people of life. I am not the Sylvanas of old. She died. You cannot question our motives for you have not experienced what we experienced. You still have life.”

She took his hand. Keldren felt the lifeless cold of her touch. “You still feel warmth,” she said.

Letting go, she continued to speak, “I will not allow the Forsaken to be consumed by Arthas again. If that means our tactics must be more brutal and unflinching, so be it. Mark my words: Arthas will pay for his crimes against our people. That is all you need to know about my motivations.”

“I am sorry I questioned you, Dark Lady,” Keldren replied. “As a paladin, you must understand my reservations.”

“That is an issue you must face personally,” she responded. “It is your decision to make. If you choose not to aid Undercity, that is your choice. But if you still question my loyalty to Silvermoon, you must understand when the Horde objected an alliance with the blood elves, it was I who spoke on your behalf.”

“I do know that,” Keldren said and remembered something his father once mentioned regarding Sylvanas.

“Then leave me and do not question me again, for the next time I will not be so civil.”

“Yes Dark Lady,” Keldren bowed as he made his way out of the chamber. As he left, he left behind a parting comment. “You did not fail Ranger-General. Silvermoon still stands and your sacrifice will always be remembered.”

Alone, Sylvanas whispered, “May the Light guide you, Keldren Aravel.”

“You see yourself a holy warrior, eh?” Arugal said, his tone increasingly becoming more mocking. “Of course you do. I can see the very aura of Light shining around you. It is a pity that a knight like yourself could be so deceived and delusional.”

“Your venom laced words will not shake me,” Keldren said in defiance. Still he was wondering where the corrupted mage was going with this.

“You and I are not very different, Keldren Silverblade,” Arugal grinned with evil delight. “Our methods may be different but ultimately, it is the shadows we both serve.”

“Blasphemer!” Keldren yelled and took a step closer, his sword erupting with holy fire.

“That may well be, but I speak the truth.”

“You dare to judge me?” Keldren responded. “You, who dwell in this house of evil? You conduct foul experiments within these walls, twisting men into fiendish worg. You chain the dead souls of this keep to your will, forcing them to serve you in undeath. This very place carries the stench of death and shadow. I am not like you.”

“And who you do serve, my noble elf?” Arugal questioned.

“I serve Silvermoon and the my people. The sin’dorei have been betrayed and battered but we continue to persevere.”

“You serve another,” Arugal interrupted, “and that is why you are here today. Her powers are as dark as mine.”

Keldren stiffened.

“Yes, now you understand?” Arugal began to circle around Keldren, who seemed to be stunned by the simple revelation. The mage kept his distance, keeping a weary eye on the vulnerable elf, slowing reaching into one of his sleeves. “You serve Sylvanas. She is a creature of undeath. The reasons for her existence may be unfortunate but nonetheless, her essence is joined with shadow. How can a paladin of Light such as yourself willingly serve an undead creature freely? Surely, you have fallen to the darkness as well. There is no other explanation.”

“Sylvanas and her people only seek to survive, like the sin’dorei. She is trying to make the most out of a terrible reality,” Keldren spoke though his determination seemed to fade.

“So, she is a victim and benevolent in her ways?” Sarcasm stroked Arugal’s words. “You are a blind fool. Do you not know of the plague Undercity is preparing as we speak?”

“What plaque?” Keldren asked with genuine confusion.

Arugal laughed. “She seeks to spread a plague across the continents, killing every living creature. They will arise to serve Undercity. How is she any different than Arthas?”

“You lie.”

“Ask her yourself,” Arugal challenged Keldren, taking steps behind the elf, close enough to almost touch him, “that is if I allow your undead spirit to leave Shadowfang Keep alive!”

Arugal pulled out a dagger wrapped in shadowy mist from his sleeve and plunged it into Keldren’s back. The dark blade sank deep, breaking through plate armor and sinking deep into the paladin’s back past his ribs.

Keldren stumbled to the ground dropping his weapon as one of his lungs collapsed. As his breath escaped him, he tried desperately to pull the wicked dagger from his body. Arugal stood over him grinning with satisfaction. The mage was preparing a spell that would finish the elf.

“Light give me strength,” Keldren faintly spoke. A shimmering glow formed around him as Arugal’s shadow blast struck his prone body.

“No!” Arugal shouted as he cast another blast which was again absorbed by the shimmering aura. He began to back away as Keldren managed to get up on his knees, the dagger finally pulled from his back and in his hands. The mage could already see the wound mending as Keldren mouthed a silent prayer.

Knowing the hopelessness of the situation, Arugal turned and ran but every step he tried to make to escape the paladin became a struggle. He was compelled to finish the fight. Arugal knew Keldren’s mastery of Light had prevented his escape.

The Lord of Shadowfang Keep turned around to face Keldren and he tried to counter the blow but the paladin ran his brightly burning blade through his stomach. Arugal stared into space almost in a trance as his life ended. He collapsed on the ground, lying in his own pool of blood.

Keldren stood over him, tightly gripping his sword. Victory was at hand but now Keldren had to speak with Sylvanas herself. He did not relish the thought.

The worg fell, clutching his wounded chest as dark blood poured out. With one last lingering agonizing howl, the foul beast died.

Keldren Silverblade surveyed the large room to make sure there were no other enemies around. The hard decayed floor was littered with worg bodies, minions of Arugal, a powerful mage and Lord of Shadowfang Keep. Keldren was sent by Dalar Dawnweaver to end Arugal’s reign. It was a commission that trickled down from Lady Sylvanas Windrunner herself. He could not refuse such an order.

After wiping his bloodied bastard sword on the fur of a fallen worg, Keldren tightened his grip on the blade that was once again shining brilliantly with holy energy. He began to move towards the hallway on the other side of the room and marched towards his final confrontation. He could hear the rushed footsteps and the raging howls rushing towards him. Arugal was trapped and he knew it. These worg were the last remnants of his defense.

Earlier in the evening, Keldren maneuvered his way into the fortified keep. The worg were no match for his martial skills. The undead that roamed the cursed halls were also consumed by the unleashing of holy light. Dalar knew a paladin of Keldren’s skill could cripple Shadowfang Keep. But was Keldren strong enough to challenge Arugal himself?

As Keldren made his way down the dark hallway, two worg charged into him. Spinning and using the momentum to strengthen his attack, Keldren’s sword split the first worg in half across the torso. The creature did not even have time to cry out as its innards and blood splattered the hallway wall. The second worg, already in a frenzy, tackled Keldren and they both fell hard onto the ground in a jumbled mess of claws, fur, arms and legs.

The fearsome creature’s jaws were only inches away from Keldren’s face, snapping wildly. Only the elf’s sheer determination and strength kept the worg from tearing its fangs into his throat. Unable to use his large sword in a prone position, Keldren reached under his tabard and pulled out a silver object. Gripping the worg’s neck with one hand, Keldren shoved his holy symbol into the beast’s mouth. The sharp edges of the symbol tore deep gashes in the worg’s mouth, choking it. The worg fell backwards and tried to delicately remove the impaled holy symbol from his mouth. This gave Keldren the opportunity to ready his sword. The blow was sure and swift and the decapitated head of the worg rolled away from him.

Stoically, Keldren continued his march towards Arugal. The hallway took him to a winding flight of stairs that led him to a tower. The locked heavy door at the end caused only a slight delay to the inevitable. Keldren shattered the hinges of the door causing it to fall. A thick cloud of wood splinters and dust filled the air. Once the air cleared, Keldren saw his final adversary.

Arugal was standing alone carrying a large ornate staff. “Silverblade, you have defeated my soldiers and now you come for me. Very well, I welcome the challenge but let us speak first,” he said to Keldren.

Arugal’s arrogance didn’t escape Keldren. Even cornered, the mage believed himself to be the superior.

“Speak then and ready your soul for tonight your reign and terror ends,” Keldren replied as he pointed his glowing blade.

Keldren stared long and hard at M’uru. The naaru was surrounded by an eerie reddish glow, overwhelming the soft blue light that it normally emanated. Three blood elf mages stood around the perimeter, channeling their red beams of arcane magic to keep the naaru immobile. The red glow pulsated as the mages slowly and steadily siphoned the power of Light from M’uru for future Blood Knight use.

So focused on the naaru, Keldren failed to see Knight-Lord Bloodvalor walk up to him.

Placing a hand on Keldren’s shoulder, Bloodvalor spoke. “To many what we do is distasteful,” he said, “but sometimes in order to survive, we must put aside our ideals.”

“But if we cast out our ideals,” Keldren replied, “what are we fighting for?”

“Power.” Bloodvalor gazed upon the new Blood Knight Adept. “We fight for power and to claim what is rightfully ours. We blood elves are the heirs of power and nothing will stand in our way. The Scourge, the Alliance, nothing shall stand before our destiny.”

Keldren looked up again at M’uru again. The iridescent glow was fading. The mages saw this and eased off on their mana tap.

“But why not try to learn to receive the Light freely?”

“Because these are desperate times,” Bloodvalor explained. “The Sin’dorei need to be strong now or Silvermoon will fall again. Besides, why beg for power when you can just take it?”

Keldren thought he heard a small sigh escaping Bloodvalor’s lips. “House Aravel is the rare few that still channel the Light freely Keldren. Not everyone has that ability. We need the Order to maintain peace and to protect our borders. And without this naaru, that would be impossible.”

“And power without discipline can be dangerous…”

Bloodvalor angrily stared at Keldren, “I will not be lectured by an Adept about how the Blood Knights should be run.”

“My apologies, Knight-Lord,” Keldren bowed. “I overstepped my boundaries.”

Relishing his authority over the young elf, Bloodvalor crossed his arms and stared at Keldren with a condescending stare. “Your ability to channel the Light has made you weak. You are starting to show signs of mercy,” he said with relish, “and a lack of respect to authority. Maybe I should have your Adept status stripped?”

“What is going on here?” It was a feminine voice I recognized, strong and commanding.

Bloodvalor stiffened as he heard the voice behind him. He turned around and with a respectful bow said, “Lady Liadrin. It is nothing. I am just disciplining an Adept for his insubordination.”

Lady Liadrin looked past Bloodvalor and gazed at Keldren. “That will be enough, Knight-Lord. I’ll handle it from here.”

“But madam…”

She tilted her head as if surprised. “I said, that will be enough.” Bloodvalor’s shoulders slumped and whatever strength and courage he had mustered up against Keldren vanished. Lady Liadrin added, “Return to your post Knight-Lord.”

“Yes milady.”

Bloodvalor slinked away, his ego bruised. Lady Liadrin kept her eye on him until he disappeared from her view, then turning her attention to Keldren so was now looking back at her.

“I assume your father is doing well?” She smiled.

“Yes, he’s fine,” Keldren answered.

“And your mother?” she asked. “I really should visit her. It’s been so long but my responsibilities keep me here.”

“She is doing well and she would be very pleased to meet up with you again.”

“Your parents still hoping I will change?” Lady Liadrin smirked.

Keldren nodded, his lips forming a smile. “My parents are romantics. They are almost irritatingly hopeful. They will not lose faith that you will return to the Light.”

“Your family almost makes me want to believe but my path is set now,” Lady Liadrin responded as she turned her gaze to M’uru. The eerie red light pulsated as if responding to her statement.

“Is there no redemption, even for the sin’dorei?” Keldren asked.

“Time will tell,” Lady Liadrin chanted. “Time will tell.”

(Events take place pre-2.4 patch of the game, prior to Kael’thas’ taking of the naaru M’uru from the Blood Knight headquarters.)

The rays of the bright golden sun pierced the window of his private room at the estate, signaling a new day. The gloom of night faded away and the heat of the new dawn nudged Keldren awake. Every morning started the same for the young blood elf. Sitting up and stretching out his limbs to loosen the tightness brought upon by sleep, he gave out a big yawn. After combing through his long platinum hair with his fingers, Keldren cracked his neck left and right. And then the calmness of the morning was stirred as something sinister roared in his mind.

The hunger was starting again.

Keldren quickly sat on the carpeted rug next to his bed and crossed his legs. Placing a hand on each of his knees, he closed his eyes concentrating and focusing. The hunger beckoned. Each blood elf had their own methods of subduing the hunger. Some chose to clear their minds of all thought. Others focused on a specific object, like a crystal or gem.

Keldren focused on the Light. It was something his father Matheus taught him. His words echoed in his mind as Keldren tried to suppress the fel energy flowing through his veins.

“The Light is creation my son. Fel magic belongs in the Darkness. But always remember, the Darkness is measured and defined in relation to the Light and can be suppressed. Focus on the Light’s healing powers and you can overcome anything.”

With partially opened eyes, he stared at the blood-tempered ranseur leaning against the wall. Only two days ago, he had presented the magnificent polearm to Knight-Lord Bloodvalor as proof of his achievements, promoting him to Blood Knight Adept. He was well on his way to becoming a full-fledged Blood Knight. It was ironic considering how House Aravel, his family, disapproved of the very order. Yet, it was his own father who recommended that Keldren should join its ranks.

Keldren closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. The discipline, the focus and meditation finally soothed his craving for magic. Every day he had to mediate in order to suppress this craving. The alternative was unpleasant in Keldren’s mind. Siphoning ambient magic from creatures or the environment itself did satisfy the addiction but there were many dangers. Without proper control over the addiction, many blood elves had become twisted by the fel magics coursing through their veins becoming the Wretched. And to someone committed to the Light, stealing magical energy from creatures seemed very reprehensible.

With a soft sigh, Keldren opened his eyes and stood up. The craving was finally gone, at least till the next day. Strapping on his chain mail armor, he left room taking the ranseur, his symbol as a knight, and headed downstairs.

The Aravel Estate was befitting of the noble family of their stature. Not the highest ranking noble house with great influence over the politics of Quel’Thalas but also not the weakest, House Aravel settled at a comfortable median. The estate itself was elegant without being ostentatious. Bright sunlight flooded past the many large windows that lined the great marble floor of the main hall. Keldren felt the gentle warmth of the morning sun and sighed, walking towards the dining hall.

In the dining hall, he found his father and his mother, Lhorynna enjoying a pleasant breakfast. The delicious aroma of crisp bacon, eggs, fruit and fresh baked bread reminded him just how hungry he was after the morning mediation. Keldren’s stomach growled in protest.

Lhorynna glanced over to her son, who was now standing next to her seat and smiled. “Have the Order’s training become so rigorous that they are now starving their students?” Her long vibrant auburn hair was up, shaped in a popular style. She had noble, comely features and radiated an aura of elegance.

Keldren leaned over and kissed his mother on the cheek. “They feed us plenty of food for our body but my soul remains hungry.” Leaning his ranseur against a wall, Keldren sat down next to her and began filling his plate. “It’s good to be home, even if it’s only for a day.”

“Having difficulty living at the Academy?” Matheus asked.

“No, the living conditions are fine,” Keldren answered, “but I believe I am the only one amongst my peers that do not siphon the Light from M’uru. I still don’t understand why you wanted me to join the Blood Knights. Neither you or mother joined.”

Matheus sat quietly, sunlight gleaming on his loose silvery white hair. He stared at his son, who was his identical image when he was once young.

“Your mother and I had to take a stand,” he said, “but we also understood Silvermoon needed healing. Healing could not be achieved with a schism. That is why I asked for you to join the Blood Knights; to be House Aravel’s representative and to be a messenger of healing.”

“Doesn’t it seem a bit hypocritical for me to call myself a Blood Knight when we oppose all their evil methods?”

“I do not believe the Order to be evil Keldren,” Matheus responded. “Just misguided. Besides, I am not asking you to change into them. I am asking you to change them into you.”

Keldren stared at his father with a puzzled expression.

Matheus continued, “We could completely separate ourselves from the Order. But how would that solve anything? What would that accomplish? Nothing would change. But, if you could represent the Light, I mean truly represent the Light like a true paladin, there is hope that some would be inspired to change.”

Keldren was beginning to understand.

“A paladin accomplishes nothing hiding away in some monastery. It is self-serving, for a paladin is born to serve the Light and his nation. You must surround yourself in Darkness so that you can be a beacon of Light.”

Keldren pondered on his father’s words and then smiled. “Quite a speech. How long did you practice it?”

Matheus chuckled, “Since you joined the Order. I’ve been waiting for you to ask the right questions.”

Lhorynna glanced back and forth between her husband and her son. “Now if you two are done, I’d like to get back to breakfast and spend some quality time as a family.”

“Yes, Dear.”

“Yes, Mother.”