Interlude: Kel'Thuzad

"Technology is marvelous, but magic is magic." -Kel'Thuzad

The only good rat was a lab rat.

Kel'Thuzad watched dispassionately as the rodent struggled against his grip. Primal instinct drove it to resist, not understanding the role it played in what was to come. He squeezed, snapping its neck effortlessly.

Foreign energy gathered at his fingertips and with a twist of will, he directed it to cool his lemon infused water.

A three degree difference this time, Kel'Thuzad thought, jotting down that sliver of data into his journal. "Preliminary findings suggest that a sudden release is more potent spell fuel than a slow one," he announced to the empty Arcane Sanctum. "This parallels results in non-arcane experiments. Dwarven explosives, for example, has been shown to have greater effects when in a single burst as opposed to a series of smaller explosions, ceteris paribus."

Kel'Thuzad took a sip from the canister. He had had it made to his exact specifications, right down to the material components the smiths used. So far, it had yielded promising results in keeping his tea warm and his lemonade cool.

"Hard at work slaughtering rats again, Kel'Thuzad?"

Kel'Thuzad inclined his head. "Good afternoon, Archmage Antonidas."

Antonidas smiled. "None of this Archmage nonsense. We are peers."

"Forgive me. Old habits, Ar-Antonidas," Kel'Thuzad said.

"There's nothing to forgive," he said, tapping his finger against a stack of journals piled high on the desk. "Now, remind me again what all this is supposed to be?"

"A systematic proof that lifeforce and mana are interchangeable. Theoretically, it should mean that living beings can be used as mana batteries, and, conversely, mana can be used to create life."

"Ambitious," Antonidas said, "and very dangerous."

He had expected this reaction from the more conservative elements within the Kirin Tor. "I've no intention of violating the Necromancy Ban, not that there would be much of a point. While it might be theoretically possible to bring the dead back to life, there's still some bleed during conversion and that's not even getting into the complications of rebinding a soul." Kel'Thuzad rolled his eyes. "Besides, Modera and Drenden would crucify me."

"That's only if the angry villagers don't set you on fire first," Antonidas said.

"Ha! Yes, there is that." He glanced at his chronometer and sighed.

"Your overwatch is starting soon, isn't it?" Antonidas asked.

"Yes," Kel'Thuzad said, gritting his teeth. "A man of my talents is wasted on administrative functions. I'm not even an engineer.

The Titantide was being a pain in the ass even now. If he ever found out what had caused it, there would be hell to pay, and not just for the splitting migraine it had given him on the day in question.

"You have far more experience in it now than most wizards accumulate over two lifetimes. Besides, the Six voted that all of the Kirin Tor would take turns overseeing the reconstruction of the Citadel Towers."

"If you recall, I voted against it," Kel'Thuzad said.

"And if you recall, you were overruled 4 to 2," Antonidas said.

Only Kael'Thas Sunstrider had seen fit to side with him on the matter. "Democracy," he spat out, "the triumph of popularity over wisdom."

"It is the wisdom of consensus," Antonidas corrected. "And we're hardly a democracy in the style of Old Lordaeron. The members of the Six are curated from the most capable among the Kirin Tor."

"Consensus! Ha! The veil of cowards. Consensus is nothing but a tool to shirk accountability."

"Careful boy," Antonidas said. "You answer to the Six, just like everyone else."

"Apologies," Kel'Thuzad mumbled. "But my point stands. What use is there in having wizards oversee this? It's time better spent on research or preparing for the war. Anything would be preferable to that mind-numbing bureaucracy."

Antonidas raised a brow. "Anything?"

Kel'Thuzad paused. "Maybe not anything. Did you have something in mind?"

A message from Lordaeron." Antonidas produced a roll of parchment from thin air and offered it to him.

Subspace storage, Kel'Thuzad noted idly as he accepted the message. It was Antonidas' latest project and while it could store nothing more than some papers, the feat had pushed their understanding of reality. Most wizards thought power lay in the ability to command storms or rain fire from the sky. A half-baked hedge wizard could muster the elements to war, but a true master of the arcane looked deeper than that, to question the sanctity of the universe's laws.

"Lady Jaina Proudmoore has fallen ill," Kel'Thuzad said. "What does this have to do with me?"

"They've requested we lend a team to help diagnose her condition," Antonidas said. "I want you to lead it."

His brows furrowed. "What for? Do they suspect this to be a magical attack? I can tell you know it isn't, based on the symptoms listed. It's likely a Chilling Touch that's seized her."

"Our actual contributions to her diagnosis are of secondary importance, Kel'Thuzad."

"Oh. This is a political thing, isn't it?"

"Yes, precisely. At a time when cooperation with the other nations is vital, we must show a request like this the proper weight."

"Like having a prominent Archmage lead the team."

Antonidas smiled. "There may be hope for you yet."

Kel'Thuzad snorted. "Believe me, my refusal to engage has nothing to do with ability."

"The world is not so principled as you. Besides, think of this as an opportunity to avoid oversight duty. Who knows? You may find her case interesting after all."

"I suppose it can hardly be worse than babysitting," Kel'Thuzad said. "Oh very well."

"Good." Antonidas glanced at his own chronometer. One of Krassus' make by the looks of it. "You'd best hurry. The scroll of portal taking the team leaves in ten minutes."

Kel'Thuzad froze. "You're kidding."

"Nine minutes, fifty eight seconds."

"Why are you just telling me about this now!?" Kel'Thuzad grabbed his canister and journal and sprinted out of the room.

"Bring me back some lobster balls!"

-Gamecraft-

Their delegation was the first to arrive. The Athenaeum engineered carriages may be the choice of transport for the pampered aristocrat, but in the end, it was hard to get much faster than a portal scroll. If you could handle the method, that is.

An initiate spilled out chunks of his lunch.

Kel'Thuzad's nose crinkled at the sight. "Make sure to clean that up when you finish," he said, walking around the boy. "We're guests here."

There was a reason aristocrats still preferred comfort over speed. Vomit wasn't a good look on anyone, but on them it was worse than most. It was not man's nature to cross miles in an instant and so such experiences had to be acclimated to.

"Archmage Kel'Thuzad, you honor us with your presence," the man with the golden pin of crossed quills said. A Scholar of the Athenaeum and a distinguished one at that.

Those were always the worst kinds.

"Dispense with the pleasantries. A girl's life is at stake," Kel'Thuzad said. "Lead us to her."

The Scholar bobbed his head and hurriedly led them into the castle.

"What can you tell us about her condition?" a mage -Porbin or Porbee- asked.

"It's not good," the Scholar said.

She better be at death's door, Kel'Thuzad thought. If I find my time has been wasted, I will leave turn this man into an ice sculpture, diplomacy be damned!

The man continued to babble on, but there was nothing there the letter hadn't already covered. The only development since then was that the girl had lost even more of her core temperature. Big surprise.

"It could be a curse," an adept voiced out.

Except none of the other symptoms were there and curses tended to be far more gruesome. Warlocks were, to a man, addicted to showmanship. It was all about shocking their audience rather than being efficient. While draining someone of heat portrayed the classic inefficiency of their kind, it was far too dull to be their work.

They reached the girl's room. A boy was sitting besides her, a look of worry etched into his features. Far too well dressed to be a mere servant.

"Prince Arthas, may I present Archmage Kel'Thuzad of the Kirin Tor and his associates," the Scholar said.

The boy's face lit up in recognition.

"I've read one of your books," the boy said. "Well, your introduction to one. The General Nature of Magic?"

Kel'Thuzad's brow arched up. He vaguely recalled having penned one years ago. Antonidas had insisted on it, claimed it was tradition for newly initiated members of the Dalaran Six to make a contribution. That assignment had been the easiest. "You enjoyed it, I hope?" he asked, while he took the girl's pulse. Her heart was weak, but there was no internal bleeding or signs of mental tampering. Definitely not a curse.

"It was...insightful," the boy said. "A harsh, but refreshingly honest view of the world."

"Are you considering magical training, Your Majesty?" an adept asked.

"The proper address is Your Highness," Kel'Thuzad said idly. Just to be sure, he enveloped the girl with his mana, searching for any malignant influences. If the girl was to die, he would make sure the fault did not lie with him. "Your Majesty is reserved for kings."

The adept flushed, cheeks burning and she dipped her head. "My sincere apologies, Your Highness," she squeaked out.

How undignified. Squeaking was for mice.

"I don't mind," the boy said. "And no, magic doesn't seem like it'd suit me. She'd be perfect for it though."

Who? The Proudmoore girl? What would the boy know of these matters? And, more importantly, why did he sound so sure? An empty boast? "What makes you so certain?"

"Well, she understood your book for one," he said.

"It's an introductory text," Kel'Thuzad said. And it was doubtful she actually understood what she read. Reading did not equal comprehen-

There was something linked to the girl. It was a thin and difficult to grasp thing, like velvet string. It would be invisible to anything but the most thorough magical examinations.

It mirrored the steady cardiac beat of its host and was warm, but not scalding. This didn't seem malignant...more like a sympathetic bond. A poorly crafted one, given there were no checks to ensure that the mana leaving the girl didn't drain her-

Kel'Thuzad looked at the boy sharply and he fidgeted. He was hiding something. "What else?"

"It's just a gut feeling," he muttered.

Liar. The boy's loyalty was almost admirable. Too bad it would get the girl killed.

The bond pulsed again, and her temperature dropped. It was undeniable now. Something was using the girl as a mana battery. It was dangerous for anyone untrained, nevermind someone of her age, not in the least bit because she didn't have the manapool to sustain it for long. With a need for energy and no protections in place, the bond continued to suck her dry - cannibalizing her for energy to keep itself going. Her heat would go first, but even that wouldn't be enough. Likely, the bond was already taking her life. That would kill her much faster than the Chilling Touch.

Kel'Thuzad was surprised she wasn't already a husk by now. That would be unfortunate and, infinitely more important, a mark on his unblemished record.

Unacceptable.

Solutions? He could snip the bond, but if it was sympathetically established, it could have detrimental effects on her mind. Possibly even cripple her. Not ideal. Forcing heat onto her wouldn't work either - it would treat the most visible symptom, but do nothing to stop the toll on her lifeforce.

He could freeze her heart. If the transfer of energy mirrored her heartbeat, and there was reason to believe that was the case, then stopping her heart would stop the drain. Temporarily at least.

Obviously, the lack of oxygen would be problematic. She could be kept in a state of stasis for half a day without doing permanent damage, maybe. That would give him enough time to investigate this bond more fully.

It wouldn't be popular, but to hell with that.

Being right felt infinitely more satisfying.

Power thrummed through his fingers and he touched the girl's sternum, and released. A thick mist rippled from the point of contact. In seconds, Kel'Thuzad felt her little heart stop as her temperature plummeted.

"What are you doing?" the boy asked, standing in alarm. His own party was no doubt giving him dark looks, but there was nothing they could do now. He was in charge.

And if they reported him...well, no one would care if this worked. Results could justify anything.

"This is highly unethic-"

He snapped his fingers and the Scholar was silenced. "She'd have died in an hour at this rate. This way, she has a few more," Kel'Thuzad said. "Now, what have you been hiding from me, boy? And don't try to lie to me again, I can tell."

The boy swallowed, glancing between the girl and Kel'Thuzad, as if debating something of monumental importance. Children and their overinflated sense of importance.

"I suggest you speak, before she dies. Time is a limited commodity."

"She has a Lake Elemental under her command," he said. "When the murlocs attacked, it-it took form!"

That confirmed his theory. "Where is this thing now?"

"I don't know. It told us to run, so we did. The attack took place by the harbor."

"Do you suppose you could identify this being if you saw it?" Kel'Thuzad asked.

"Without a doubt," Arthas said.

"Good, then you can be of us. Follow me." A slab of ice formed in each of his hands, arcane sigils etching themselves in before veins of hoarfrost coated them.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

Kel'Thuzad grinned. "To murder what's left of a god."