Dizziness, nausea, and mental confusion—this was the reality of their prisoner life for nearly a millennium, as they desperately resisted C'Thun's whispers, year after year, day after day, until finally, time seemed to lose all meaning. They no longer knew if they were truly lucid, or if they had long been brainwashed by C'Thun and turned into his servants.
Fortunately, Ahn'Qiraj did not seem to be C'Thun's "temple" from the beginning; everything here had a great restraining effect on the evil god. If not for this, the Night Elves during the Ancient War of the Shifting Sands would have faced more than just the Nerubian army, but a tidal wave of the Dark Empire unleashed by C'Thun.
It was precisely because of this that three pitiful Guardian Dragons were tormented for a millennium under C'Thun's overwhelming, twisting whispers.
However, such imprisonment was still unbearable. After a millennium, all three Guardian Dragons felt their spirits reaching their limit. If they didn't escape this accursed cage soon, they feared they would become slaves to darkness…
Just as despair gradually spread, C'Thun's ceaseless whispers abruptly ceased. The three Guardian Dragons experienced a moment of peace, which allowed them to catch their breath and begin to assess their current predicament.
Malyndia took a breath, withdrawing the little power she could still manipulate. Although she sensed a change, she still couldn't clearly perceive the situation outside, so she turned to ask her companion.
"Kaylesta, what exactly happened? Can you sense the situation outside the temple?"
Kaylesta (later referred to as Kayle) tried hard to sense the outside world, but still to no avail. He shook his head and said helplessly, "No, everything is still so blurry. Although C'Thun's power seems to be diminishing, something is still obscuring my senses."
"Perhaps this is another one of C'Thun's tricks, to make us drop our guard so he can invade our minds." Arygos, in his Gnome form, held no hope of escape. Their power was sealed by C'Thun, preventing them from even returning to their dragon forms, and they had been forced to remain in mortal forms for a millennium.
Malyndia remained silent, but also began to gather her strength, preparing to rest for a while and then continue to see if she could break through the cage.
"Don't try. We've been trying for a thousand years. If we could have escaped, we would have long ago," Arygos said, leaning against the wall, looking utterly resigned. "That fellow's power is not on the same level as ours. If it weren't for this temple sealing him, even the Guardian Dragons might not be his match."
Kayle sighed. Although Arygos's words were harsh, they were indeed true. A thousand years ago, they rushed deep into the temple, regardless of their own safety, to hold back the Nerubian army and C'Thun, buying time for the armies outside. When they fell into C'Thun's hands, they thought death was the only outcome, but they never expected that the evil god would not kill them directly, but instead trap them in the temple and torment them for a millennium.
This was certainly not out of mercy on his part. Kayle knew very well that the other party had captured the three of them simply to keep them alive and witness the Dark Empire descending upon Azeroth, destroying everything they had once protected.
And if they succumbed to C'Thun's tyranny, the Eye of Thousand Eyes would certainly be more pleased to drive them to personally destroy what they loved. Such distortion was the best food for the Old Gods.
"If you truly gave up hope, then you wouldn't have maintained your last bit of strength for this millennium, ensuring you weren't corrupted by C'Thun," Malyndia snapped at Arygos. This guy might look dejected, but in reality, he was more afraid of death than she and Kayle. It was precisely because the three of them supported each other that they barely managed to survive this past millennium.
Arygos ignored Malyndia, squatting in the corner by himself, seemingly lost in thought.
Kayle felt some of his power return and said to Malyndia, "Let's try again. C'Thun's power has hardly diminished in a millennium; instead, it has been constantly growing. This abnormal change must mean something has happened."
At this point, a longing for freedom gleamed in the eyes of all three Guardian Dragons: death seemed insignificant in the face of a millennium of imprisonment and torment.
—But very quickly, they changed their minds.
As Malyndia and Kayle's power extended over the cage, before they could even probe for its weaknesses, they were repelled by an abyss-like aura of death. That tidal wave of death energy slammed into the cage, instantly startling Malyndia and Kayle.
They stumbled back a few steps, their faces pale, as an emotion called fear began to involuntarily well up within them. It wasn't that they were cowardly, but rather an uncontrollable primal reaction of all living beings when facing "death."
Seeing this, Arygos immediately sprang up from where he was huddled. His Gnome voice let out a somewhat comical yet shrill cry, "Damn it, I told you two to behave!"
Though his words were sharp, Arygos continuously channeled his magic without a moment's pause, calming Malyndia and Kayle's minds to prevent the two unlucky souls from truly breaking down from the fear of death.
Fortunately, he hadn't wasted his power on probing the cage, which left Arygos with enough strength to protect Malyndia and Kayle from the threat of death. However, this also left him utterly exhausted, collapsing onto the ground.
The three Guardian Dragons' faces were almost equally pale. They now looked at each other, having lost their last bit of self-preservation, becoming fish on a chopping block.
"Crack!"
A sound like shattering glass echoed as the unbreakable cage set up by C'Thun shattered with a crash. A figure walked with unhurried steps into the inner chamber where the three Guardian Dragons were imprisoned.
Sensing the terrifying aura emanating from the figure, they immediately understood that the source of the fear, as if truly facing death, was this handsome, unfamiliar man before them.
"Now we're in trouble," Arygos muttered, still unable to stop his incessant chatter. "A formidable character has arrived. It seems we're going to meet our fallen comrades today."
-----------------
Arthas frowned, staring at the three disheveled figures before him. Watching their bodies tremble slightly for unknown reasons, he did not rashly approach the three Guardian Dragons, who might have been corrupted by C'Thun. His soul perception quickly swept over them, and only after confirming that their minds were mostly their own did he finally relax his cold expression.
C'Thun truly "cherished" these three little ones he had captured. The cage he set up would likely be difficult for even the Guardian Dragons to break from within. Arthas had to exert some effort to destroy the prison from the outside. He discovered that, in addition to the accumulated shadow corruption over the years, there was also a faint trace of deathly immersion on the three Guardian Dragons, and only then did he realize that the faint fluctuations mixed in C'Thun's power when he broke the cage earlier had come from them.
Knowing that being struck by his power, even if only incidentally, was not pleasant, and these three were already injured. If not for their true forms being Guardian Dragons, creatures with strong vitality, it would be hard to say whether they would be alive or dead now.
Of course, this couldn't be blamed on Arthas. He wasn't sure where those faint consciousnesses originated, and to avoid any hidden traps left by C'Thun, he simply crushed them directly. Moreover, although the three Guardian Dragons before him were not in good condition, it was not a difficult task for Arthas.
He raised his hand and summoned warm Holy Light, which brushed over the Guardian Dragons' chaotic bodies, purifying the corruption within them—though this purification process was not pleasant. Having been trapped in the Old Gods' cage for so long, the shadow energy within them had actually taken root long ago, only they hadn't noticed. Perhaps after returning to their kin, Alexstrasza and Ysera could have detected and purified this corruption, but without Arthas, Malygos, who would likely still be in a state of madness, would certainly not care about Arygos's condition.
No wonder in the original timeline, Arygos eventually fell into the abyss of corruption; it was probably inextricably linked to the continuous fermentation of this millennium of torment, coupled with witnessing Malygos being besieged by other Guardian Dragons. It would have been difficult for Arygos not to fall.
As the Holy Light shone upon the three Guardian Dragons, intense burning and pain immediately swept through their nerves. Arygos couldn't help but cry out, "Are you going to torment us before killing us?! I won't yield—"
"Shut up, Arygos, this energy is healing us."
Kayle and Malyndia glared at Arygos, almost simultaneously scolding him. Arygos gave a sheepish smile. In truth, he also knew that the Holy Light was merely expelling the lingering toxins left by C'Thun within them; it was just that his habit of incessant chatter, developed over a long and boring prison life, hadn't been corrected yet.
Under the Holy Light energy released by Arthas, the pollution left by C'Thun in the three dragons was quickly purified. Although this process was relatively less "comfortable" compared to other healing methods, it was extremely efficient, and with the dragons' physique, enduring such a small degree of pain was not a problem.
As the pain C'Thun inflicted on the three dragons gradually disappeared, Kaylesta and the others finally had a chance to carefully observe the "savior" who had freed them from their prison. However, they were not completely relaxed, and there was still a hint of suspicion in their gaze towards Arthas.
The sense of deathly dread that seemed to devour everything just now was not false, and it came precisely from Arthas. This was completely different from the gentle, bright Holy Light power he was currently emitting. Even though the three ancient dragons were well-traveled and had even fought the Old Gods, they had never heard or seen such a situation.
"Hello, I am Kaylesta, a descendant of the Red Dragon Queen. Next to me are Malyndia and Arygos, who are children of the Green Dragon Queen and the Blue Dragon King respectively."
After a brief silence, Kaylesta finally broke the deadlock. He first introduced himself, and then asked Arthas, "We have been imprisoned here by that evil god for thousands of years. We are very grateful that you saved us. Although I can no longer sense the evil god's aura, it is still very dangerous here. If needed, we can take you with us to leave this place."
Malyndia and Arygos first glanced at Kaylesta and immediately understood his plan—Ahn'Qiraj was indeed full of dangers. It was best to leave quickly if they wanted to figure out the other party's identity, and they could even take the other party back to their clan, which would be even more foolproof.
Arthas declined the dragons' "kindness." He replied in his usual calm tone, "Kaylesta, Alexstrasza should be very eager to see you now. It's better to go back quickly. Malyndia, Isera should be the same."
Then he lowered his gaze and looked at Arygos, who was in the form of a Gnome. Arygos never expected that one day he would be stared at uncomfortably by a mortal. He quickly spoke, trying to break the awkwardness, "Oh, you also know the Red Dragon Queen and the Green Dragon Queen? Then it seems you were sent by the Dragon Legion to rescue us? Thank goodness, our brothers and sisters haven't forgotten me—uh, my father might have forgotten me."
Arygos spoke of the "fact" that he remembered would happen. A thousand years ago, Malygos was still in that crazy state, and few in the Blue Dragonflight dared to approach him. Even if he was Malygos's biological offspring, he wouldn't dare to anger his father. Arygos, let alone being missing for a thousand years, even if he were missing for ten thousand years, the high and mighty Weaver might not even glance at his situation.
"No, I think Malygos should also be very happy for you to return," Arthas paused for a moment, "The Blue Dragonflight is different now. The Weaver has re-embraced the responsibility he once abandoned."
Arygos was stunned. He looked at Arthas with suspicion and uncertainty, as if he had heard a story made up by someone else, "Uh, you—are you sure you know what you're talking about?"
Seeing this, Arthas no longer explained. He knew that no matter how much he spoke, it would not be as good as seeing it with their own eyes. "Leave quickly, return to your clans. I have only given you preliminary treatment. The Guardian Dragons should be able to tell if there is still any dark power of the Old Gods remaining in your bodies."
Arthas's words made Kaylesta and the others decide not to linger. Although they were still very curious about the origin of Arthas's power, as Arthas said, returning to their dragon clans was the most important thing now. Their loved ones were still waiting for their return, and this reunion after a thousand years, even for dragons, was not a short time.
As they prepared to leave, Malyndia, just before stepping into the teleportation array prepared by Arygos, suddenly turned back to look at Arthas, "May I ask your name? Perhaps one day we can repay your kindness."
"Arthas Menethil."
-----------------
"So, that's why you're still alive? What a stroke of luck."
Malygos's low voice startled Arygos into standing up straight, but his movements were quite comical in his current Gnome form.
"Alright, Malygos, they are heroes who fought for Azeroth," Alexstrasza stopped Malygos's stern lecture. She looked at the somewhat flustered Kaylesta, her eyes full of concern, "Child, come here, let me have a good look at you. When the Bronze Dragon messenger brought the news, I thought I had lost you forever."
At the top of the Dragonshrine, the Guardian Dragons decided to reward the three heroes who had sacrificed themselves and been trapped in Ahn'Qiraj for a thousand years. Kaylesta, Malyndia, and Arygos finally had the chance to understand the drastic changes that had occurred over the past thousand years.
The realms of mortals had grown strong and now held a place as the Guardian of the world. However, the dragons had not been idle either. Through the combined efforts of various races, they had defeated the Old Gods and the Burning Legion, bringing a brief period of peace to Azeroth.
As for the Ancient God that had trapped the three dragons for a thousand years, it was completely destroyed by a secret weapon left by the Titans. Ahn'Qiraj had now become a desolate, empty city.
"No wonder we can't sense C'Thun's aura anymore..." Kaylesta never expected that the once invincible and terrifying monster would end up like this. In his grand dream of restoring the Dark Empire, he hadn't even fully broken free from his own prison before being purified and annihilated by the Forge of Origination.
The Beetle Wall had already collapsed, not because of the monsters inside, but because they no longer needed this wall. The three of them, Kaylesta, Malyndia, and Arygos, were genuinely relieved. At least this outcome meant that all their efforts had not been in vain. The Beetle Wall had fulfilled its mission, and their heavy responsibilities had finally come to an end.
However, despite receiving awards and honors, Kaylesta still did not forget the human named Arthas. The strength of the Holy Light power he possessed was something they had never heard of, and the depth and terror of the death power he wielded also exceeded their comprehension.
Malygos's explanation for this was: "Some people are destined to be the protagonists of this era. This is not because they possess immense power or have insight into many of the world's secrets, but rather because they choose to shoulder great responsibilities even after knowing the immense price they must pay."
The Lich King's power seemed tempting, but they all knew what a terrifying curse that sword and crown represented. Arthas's existence was a stroke of luck; if the Lich King hadn't been him, who knew what terrible things might have happened?
As for the Holy Light… even the Guardian Dragons did not fully understand this power. Their former friend Tyr also possessed similar abilities, yet there was a fundamental difference between that and Arthas's power. And miraculously, neither of these two powers had been deeply mastered by the Titans. Perhaps Arthas gaining these powers was not a coincidence?
No one knew the answer to the question, not even Arthas himself. He now stood at the highest point of the ancient kingdom of Ahn'Qiraj, overlooking the vast undead army "cultivating" this desolate land, forging new fortresses. He had a premonition that in the near future, this place would become an important stronghold.
.....
In Lordaeron, in the Royal Hall, Terenas sat upon his throne, his body, thinner and more hunched than in his youth, clad in a simple yet luxurious robe. As the King of Lordaeron, his authority had accumulated to its peak over the years.
But these were not what the old king desired. His wrinkled face was already covered in age spots, and his hair had turned white. Even a king could not escape his mortal status. He had experienced too much in his life, from the intrigues between kingdoms to the brutal resistance during the Orc invasion, but none of this changed the fact that he was already old and frail.
What was gratifying was that the kingdom was now flourishing, and he had a perfect heir, which meant he did not have to worry about what would happen after his death. His son grew stronger every day, and his influence within the Alliance was increasing. Under his leadership, the Alliance gradually grew stronger, and they even defeated terrifying enemies they had once dared not even imagine.
"Father, did you call for me?"
A clear and gentle voice sounded, waking Terenas from his contemplation. The majesty on the old king's body vanished in an instant. He looked at his daughter with a benevolent gaze. For this daughter of his, Terenas now always felt a sense of guilt and indebtedness.
He had once been blinded by power and desire, wanting to expand Lordaeron's influence through "traditional" means. Now, it seemed that such an outcome would have been catastrophic, and at that time, he had even treated his daughter as a sacrifice, betrothing her to a monster.
Now, looking back at his past self, Terenas felt a surge of lingering fear and dread. He dared not imagine what fate the kingdom would have met if he had continued to covet power.
"Calia," Terenas called his daughter's name, then asked a question that shocked Calia so much she didn't know how to answer for a moment, "What do you think of your brother?"
"Arthas?! This... I, I only know that I love him very much, he is my dearest brother," Calia had not expected her father to summon her to ask for her opinion on Arthas. Her brain did not react for a moment.
Terenas smiled and shook his head, "Of course I know you care for him, and love him. Your mother and I feel the same. He is the pride of the Menethil family, and even more, our closest kin—but you know, I'm not asking you about that."
"Arthas is very outstanding, the most outstanding person I have ever met. No other noble or royal offspring can compare to him." With time to buffer, this time Calia answered decisively, "He is a powerful paladin, a wise commander, just like... just like a perfect person—very much like the former Grand Marshal Lothar."
Terenas nodded this time. No Alliance member in the Eastern Kingdoms could deny Lothar's nobility and greatness, but that was precisely the problem. "Calia, do you know why Lothar was so perfect, so noble?"
The old king did not wait for Calia to answer, but continued to answer his own question, "Because he bore a heavy responsibility. The fall of Stormwind, the death of his friends, everything familiar turning to dust and ashes—that's what forged his iron will and character. If I had to evaluate Lothar, I would definitely say he was the best person I've ever met in my life."
"But Arthas... his power grows stronger day by day, he has become the embodiment of justice and courage. Even Uther says Arthas's power far surpasses his, but I have never seen even a trace of pride or complacency in this child," Terenas recalled the bits and pieces of his son's growth, "His calm face always carries a hint of sorrow—he is always worrying about something, even after repelling the orcs and defeating the demons, his expression has never changed."
This was not the demeanor a young man should have, nor was it the demeanor Arthas, who had presented an almost perfect image since childhood, should have. As the Crown Prince of Lordaeron, Arthas was born to be the focal point of the entire kingdom's attention. Terenas once worried that this would make Arthas indulge in cheers and flattery, but the result was quite the opposite: Arthas was more composed and calm than anyone else.
"I don't know what Arthas is worried about, but I know he must be bearing a huge responsibility, a responsibility far heavier than that of a prince and future king."
Terenas sighed. Since the Orc invasion, the world they knew had already passed away. The cruel reality of the cosmos was laid bare before their eyes. Monsters and deities from myths and legends appeared one after another, throwing the already chaotic world into even greater disarray. The Alliance seemed powerful, but in the face of these crises, their situation was actually not much different from that of the Horde; they were just a group of pitiful people huddling together for warmth.
The old king stood up, somewhat unsteadily. Calia, seeing this, quickly stepped forward to support Terenas's arm. Terenas glanced at his daughter, placed his hand on hers, and said slowly, "Child, my life is nearing its end. Your brother will surely be crowned king, which will undoubtedly add another heavy burden to his shoulders... Please forgive me, this selfish father. I was once a cold-blooded, stubborn dictator, but now I only hope you can watch over your brother for me, don't let him be crushed by responsibility..."
The further the words went, the weaker the old king's voice became. Calia quickly tried to help her father back to the throne, but Terenas waved his hand, signaling Calia to lead him for a walk in the garden.
Upon arriving in the garden, under the sunlight, the old king gradually felt some strength return to his body. He smiled, half-helplessly, half-contentedly, "I am indeed old, but this also proves that you have grown up, my child. The path ahead, you must walk it yourselves."
Sunlight spilled onto the green lawn, and new shoots were growing on the tender branches of the plants. The morning mist had not completely dissipated, and the leaves and stems, adorned with dewdrops, appeared exceptionally fresh.
-----------------
Three days later, Terenas Menethil, the King of Lordaeron, passed away. The leaders of the Alliance gathered in Lordaeron to bid the king a final farewell.
After the somber funeral, in the underground crypt of the Lordaeron Royal Garden, Arthas stood before his father's stone coffin, solemnly embedding the longsword his father had used in life into the stone coffin.
Calia and Jaina stood behind him on either side. The two distinguished ladies' eyes revealed sorrow at this moment. For Calia, she had lost her father, even though she had once disliked her father's arrangements and wanted to rebel against his decisions. And for Jaina, Terenas was like a father to her as well; in her childhood, the Lordaeron Royal Garden had also been her playground.
"Arthas... I, I'm so sorry." Calia's voice was soft. Everything had happened too suddenly. Terenas's health had deteriorated sharply in recent years, and she blamed herself for not taking good care of her father.
"Everyone faces this moment, sister. You don't need to apologize." Arthas's tone was calm, but his gaze still showed a hint of emotion. "He was a true king, until the last second of his life."
He understood the meaning of death better than anyone. His father, Terenas, had died without obsession; his soul had already left Azeroth and gone to the other side. This was not a tragedy, but the most normal outcome.
It was just that there was no more time for Arthas to grieve now. He now had a more important matter: inheriting the throne.