Welcome once again to The Conundrum Effect. Today, I am going to share with you a small bit of fiction that I wrote, concerning my Death Knight Khelandros. Since the split from the Lich King, Khelandros has struggled to find his place within the Alliance forces. He suffers from extreme inner turmoil based on past experiences and crimes committed against humanity, against his family. Over time, Khelandros found refuge and solace with a group of kaldorei Demon Hunters and their Shan’do, Tharion Greyseer. This is from one of the first nights with the Netherbane.
Honor. Loyalty. Duty. Respect. These values were present with Khelandros before he served Arthas. These values are what the Glowember family prided themselves on, almost following them blindly. He had never forgotten them, even in service to the Lich King. There were many times that each of these values had been tested and called into question. And each time, Khelandros proved that no matter what, he was worthy of each of these values. Even now, when he walks through the streets of Stormwind, he is called to prove
himself. Over and over again.
Tired of the constant beratings, the constant mistrust, Khelandros exiled himself to the peace and quiet of Ashenvale Forest. Even when the rain was pouring down and the lightning illuminating the sky, as it did now, Khelandros felt at peace. The rage and fury of the storm taking place in the night sky above were reminiscent of the turmoil within his soul. So caught up with the storm, he never heard her sneaking up behind him.
“You will never redeem yourself, brother.”
Khelandros kept his back to her, still looking to the sky, absorbing all the energy of the storm raging above the tree tops. Finally, he spoke to her, for the first time in years. His voice had changed; deeper, hollow, and tinged with the icy frost which birthed him.
“Redemption is forever out of my reach, my sister. But you… are not.”
Twirling with a quickness and agility that even rogues envy, hefting a huge two handed sword emblazoned with runes burning with a bright blue frost fire, Khelandros brought the edge of the sword down upon the stump where his twin sat. The edge of the sword bit deep, embedding itself into the wood.
For many long moments, as the rain poured down around him, matting his hair in tendrils to his face, Khelandros stared at the stump. Empty. Where his sister had been standing.
“We will meet again, my sister.”