#World of Warcraft Fanfiction

[calebdumes]

“Zara'thea's life had changed, yet again, but one thing was clear. She was the only one who got to decide how to live her life; not her mother, not the scourge, and certainly not the Void. Whatever might come from this change, there was one thing she knew for certain. She was in control.”

Fandom: World of Warcraft

Characters: OC, Magister Umbric, Alleria Windrunner, (more to be added as the fic progresses)

Rating: T+ 

Read on AO3 

CHAPTER ONE ||

Zara’thea Dawnthorn screamed in pain. It was an inescapable, all consuming pain that licked her insides with violent fire, charring her organs and splintering her bones. Her skin bubbled with it, her veins filling with molten lava, her very mind melting from the searing agony. She screamed and screamed until her voice gave out, her throat raw and bloody but there was no relief. Life ceased to have any meaning, the world condensing down into the singular torment that had become her existence. 

And then suddenly it stopped. The affliction that had overtaken her ended in such an abrupt manner that Zara’thea struggled to catch her breath. Her tortured lungs struggled to find purchase as a new panic began to flood her damaged body. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t move - suspended in time and space, a vast darkness holding her in its grasp. The pain had ended but something far worse had taken its place. 

She could feel herself fall apart, little by little. A cold, empty pit began to spread insidiously through her, eating away at what little she had left. It hungered for more, it wanted to consume her, it wanted to consume everything and there was nothing Zara’thea could do to stop it. 

Give in. Whispers slithered into her battered mind like a soothing balm, washing over the festering wounds that plagued her body and soul. Embrace us. Let go of your suffering. With us you can be free.  

The words promised comfort, an end to her hell and Zara’thea listened. 

Yes, yes give in. Let us carry your load. Follow us, listen to us, we will help you.  

More whispers filled her mind, overlapping one another and growing louder with each pleading word. The pit inside of her grew faster now, hunger tearing at her with cold fingers, seaking something to devour.

Give in, give in to us. Let go . 

Let us consume. We hunger.  

The clawing grew more intense, the cold hunger becoming unbearable with each hushed promise.

Give in. The whispers screamed.

Let go.

Zara’thea felt herself unraveling. Gnawing desperation enveloped her as the pit inside of her became a gaping maw. Pains of hunger warped her body as blood filled her mouth, her teeth cracking from pressure. The Void hungered and it would stop at nothing to be fed.

Let go.

Let go.

“Do not give into the whispers.” a strong voice commanded, shattering the cacophony raging in her mind. It bloomed like light all around her, like the sun on a soft spring afternoon, golden and warm. Zara’thea longed for it, to feel its comfort banish the cold doom that had taken control. She tried to struggle against the hunger and the strangling tentacles of the Void that gripped her and pulled her down, chasing after the voice. “Fight.” the voice demanded again. “And be free.”

With what little strength she had left, Zara’thea pushed back against the Void, clawing and kicking her way up from the darkness. The pain was unbearable but she pushed through. She had not come so far, given up so much, to fall like this. With a cry, Zara’thea broke free from the Void’s grasp and fell to her knees with a crash. 

Air rushed into her starved lungs as her body convulsed with tremors. She felt hands on her, burning her frozen skin, causing her to cry out. 

“Move her with the others.” the voice said again, softer than before but no less commanding. Zara’thea flinched at the words, her senses overloaded and raw. There were more hands on her, each touch a fresh wave of agony. She attempted to open her eyes but was greeted with only darkness. Zara’thea cried out again in fear. She could hear them, the whispers, like a dull roar in the back of her mind, slowly creeping closer, taunting her. 

“Hush now belore’dorei.” said the voice. “The Void will not have you today.”

There was the faint brush of magic against her skin, a touch of cool water and then Zara’thea knew no more. 

It was a beautiful day in Silvermoon; the sun was shining brightly in the cloudless sky, the gentle breeze, light and cool. It was perfect, just as it was everyday. Zara’thea wished, just once, that it wasn’t. 

She pulled her knees closer to her chest and bit back a sob, her bare toes digging into the soft riverbank. From under the bridge she couldn’t see the perfect blue sky or feel the temperate warmth of the sun. It was cool and dim and smelled of dirt. It was ugly, imperfect, and most importantly - it wasn’t her home.

No one would judge her here or tell her how she should be living her life. It was just the shadows under the bridge and the uncaring river to keep her company. 

“I thought I might find you here.” the familiar voice of her sister said as her slender figure dropped down from the bridge above and splashed into the water. Zara’thea flinched as muddy droplets fell onto her hunched form, staining the light purple fabric of her dress. 

“I’m not in the mood for company.” Zara’thea said even as she moved over slightly to make room for her sister. 

Her sister, Kairea’a, nodded. She was dressed in her Farstrider gear, her bow strapped to her back and  her trusty daggers sheathed at her hips. She would be going out on patrol soon. She would be leaving and Zara’thea would be stuck here, trapped in a perfect city, with perfect weather, and perfect people that did nothing but perfect their perfection. “I heard what happened.” Kairea’a said, bumping her shoulder into Zara’thea’s with a gentle nudge. 

“I think all of Silvermoon heard what happened.” Zara’thea grumbled. “With how loud mother was screaming.”

Kairea’a chucked. “So do you know what you’re going to do?”

Zara’thea huffed, her bangs fluttering. “I guess I do what she says. It’s not like I have much of a choice do I?”

“Who says you don’t have a choice?”

Zara’thea huffed again and stretched her legs out in front of her, her heels digging a shallow trench in the soft dirt. Did she really have a choice ? It was an easy question for her sister to ask, her sister who was spared from following their parents' predetermined life they had planned out before they were born. Her sharp eye and impeccable aim saved her from a lifetime of playing along to mother’s ambition. She was chosen to be a Farstrider. She was free to leave the city, to even leave Quel’thalas, but Zara’thea was stuck here with no future other than what her mother wanted. Choice was an illusion, a dream. It was a luxury that Zara’thea would never be given the opportunity to enjoy. 

“And what choice do I have Rea’a? Study here or Dalaran?” she scoffed. “Not much of a choice I think.”

“Not when you think so narrow mindedly little sister.” Kairea’a said with a sly smile. “What was it mother said? You must pick an apprenticeship by sundown tomorrow, yes?”

Zara’thea nodded, watching her sister closely. 

“So pick an apprenticeship!” She cried, placing a hand on Zara’thea’s shoulder. “She never specified what kind, she just said pick one.”

“You know what kind she meant Rea’a. I can’t go waltzing back home with a baking apprenticeship now can I? Not if I want to keep my ears.”

A baking apprenticeship would be better than what her mother wanted for her. Anything would be better than becoming yet another mage in a long line of mages living in a city full of more mages. Everywhere you looked in Silvermoon there was a spellcaster. Her people used the Arcane as if it was going out of style, from regulating the weather to the simplest of everyday tasks, it was nearly impossible not to see someone tapping into the magic that sprung from the Sunwell.

Zara’thea wanted something more out of life. She wanted adventure, she wanted to leave the gates of Quel’thalas and see the wonders the world had to offer. She wanted to dig in the dirt and uncover long lost secrets. She didn’t want to spend her days in a classroom learning an overused spellcraft to further her mother’s own political gain.

“Then use that big brain of yours.” She shook Zara’thea gently. “I hear Lady Wildburn is always looking for new students.”

Zara’thea’s breath caught in her throat. Lady Wildburn was an elderly old elf that lived far from the city in a modest little hut nestled in the forest. She had been there when Quel’thalas was founded and fought alongside the humans during the Troll Wars, teaching them their magic. In turn, she had learned a bit of magic from them, teaching it to those who were curious enough to stray from the norm.

That was it! Arcane was hardly the only magic in the world and if her mother was set on Zara’thea becoming a mage, then she would be a mage of her own choosing. 

“Rea’a you’re a genius!” Zara’thea gasped before pulling her sister into a tight embrace. 

“That’s what I keep telling everyone,” Kairea’a chucked. “But nobody seems to listen.”

“Thank you,” she whispered into her sister’s hair, not wanting to let go but knowing that they both had places to be, now more than ever. 

Kairea’a squeezed her tighter. “Remember little sister, it’s your life. No matter what plans others might have for you, you are the only one who gets to decide which way it goes. No one can ever take that away from you.”

Zara’thea woke with a gasp, her sister’s words still ringing in her mind. The gasp soon turned into a groan as pain cut through the blissful fog of sleep. Her whole body throbbed with a dull pain, her limbs feeling like the full weight of the world was pressing down on them. She tried to curl into a ball, to make herself smaller so the pain couldn’t find her, but gentle hands held her in place. 

“Magister, she’s awake.” a voice said. It sounded familiar yet at the same time there was a strangeness to it, a deepness that echoed in its melodic tone that wasn’t natural. Zara’thea opened her eyes to a face staring down at her. She knew that face, she had seen it many times before but it was different now. What once was soft and peach colored was now pale and blue, hair that had shimmered like the sun was dark as night, and once playful azure eyes now glowed indigo. 

She knew this person. She was another researcher, banished from Silvermoon just as she was but something was wrong with her, she had changed. 

Zara’thea struggled against the hands that held her, wanting to get away from the shadow of the person before her. 

“Relax. The Magister will explain everything.” The woman said, her voice ringing with distorted wrongness. Zara’thea saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned her gaze to the new figure that was approaching. A man had entered the tent she was housed in. She knew this man too but he was different, transformed from the person he once was. 

“It’s good to see you awake Lady Dawnthorn,” Magister Umbric said walking up to the small cot she rested on. “I was starting to get worried.”

“What,” Zara’thea tried to ask, her voice cracked and raw. “What happened?”

Magister Umbric, or the man who claimed to be her teacher, motioned to the elf that held her. The familiar shade released Zara’thea from her hold and took a step back. Using what little strength she had, Zara’thea pushed herself up into a sitting position, ignoring the pain that snapped at her. 

“What is the last thing you remember?” the imposter Umbric said, his eerie blue eyes watching her closely. 

Zara’thea bit her lip and struggled to remember. Her mind felt so clouded, like she was standing in a market full of people, their voices overlapping one another, making it hard to hear her own thoughts. 

You should kill him . A voice whispered, dark and sinister. He is a fake, a monster that wants to kill you. Zara’thea startled at the sharpness of it. She looked around the small tent, looking for the speaker. 

“Do not listen to it, Zara’thea.” Umbric said in a stern voice. “Push the voice aside.”

He lies to you. The voice said again. Kill him before he kills you.  

“What,” Zara’thea breathed. “What is going on?” 

The man impersonating Magister Umbric held up his hands in a placating manner. “Try to remember what happened.” he coaxed. “You need to remember.”

Zara’thea closed her eyes, rapping her knuckles against her skull. What did she remember? She remembered Telogrus, the void riddled world that she currently called home. She remembered a box. They had been working on opening that box for months now. Yes, that was it - the box. They had finally figured it out. They had begun the process of breaking the magical seal when…something went wrong. 

There had been pain, a terrible, horrible pain. And then hunger, all consuming hunger that tore at every fiber of her being. 

It’s not too late. The voice cooed. You can still give yourself to the Void. Embrace us, you’re already halfway there.

Zara’thea’s head snapped to the small pile of supplies that sat innocently in the corner. She scrambled over to it, oblivious to the pain that wracked her body from the sudden movement. She dug through the supplies until she found what she had been looking for. With her heart pounding her in chest, Zara’thea brought the small mirror up to eye level and gasped. 

Blue eyes were now violet, pale skin was now dusky purple, brown hair now indigo. A tendril of condensed void hung over her shoulder like a tentacle, others like it hidden through her hair. She was like them, the so-called imposters. They had been changed - she - had been changed by whatever was in that cursed box. 

“If it wasn’t for Lady Windrunner.” the young elf woman, Falina - she remembered her now, said. “We would all be creatures of the Void.”

There’s still time , the whisper said with sinister amusement. Embrace the Void. Give in to us .

Zara’thea dropped the mirror and clutched her head, the voice echoing loudly in her mind. 

“Falina,” Umbric snapped, “Fetch Lady Windrunner. And hurry.”

It was so loud, the whispers screaming over one another, each vying for her attention, each grasping for her sanity, ready to pull her down into the Void. Zara’thea tried to drown them out, struggling to stay above the sea of voices in her mind. She hardly noticed Falina returning, another elf in her wake.

It wasn’t until warm, peach colored hands grabbed her chin that Zara’thea came back to herself.

Alleria Windrunner, a former Ranger-Captain of the Farstriders crouched before her. She studied Zara’thea with the piercing blue eyes of a High Elf. She could feel the whispers quiet under her gaze, the insanity slowly slipping away. 

“I will teach you to control the voices.” Lady Windrunner said, her voice echoing with the Void. “It will be difficult but it can be done if you are of strong will and mind.”

Kill her. The voice hissed. Kill her now.

Zara’thea pushed the voice aside. “Teach me.” she begged. 

Lady Windrunner nodded with satisfaction before helping Zara’thea to her feet. “We begin now then.” She said, “Come, let us join the others.”

With a guiding hand, she led Zara’thea out of the tent and out onto the broken surface of Telogrus where the others waited, all transformed by the Void and so few in number. Zara’thea paused, looking around at the swirling purple of the Void she had become so familiar with. She was now just as twisted as the landscape, touched by the Void and forever changed by it. What the change entailed, it was too soon to know but there was a part of her that couldn’t help but feel as if it was part of her destiny. 

Zara’thea’s eyes caught on the twisted tree that she had spent many hours studying under, pausing at the sight before her. There was a line of bodies that rested below its gnarled branches, bodies of her fellow exiles that did not survive the transformation. Lady Windrunner looked back at her with a questioning look when she noticed Zara’thea was no longer following her. Her hand twitched towards the bow on her back, a cold look forming on her stoic face. Zara’thea shivered. How many of her friends had the Ranger-Captain been forced to slay when the Void took over? Judging by the look on the High Elf’s face it was one too many but Zara’thea had no doubt she would do it again if needed.

So she gave the former Ranger-Captain an encouraging nod and followed along behind her. 

Kill her. Kill her now . 

Zara’thea took a breath, pushing away the whispers. Her life had changed, yet again, but her sister’s words from a long time ago rang loud and clear in her mind. She was the only one who got to decide how to live her life; not her mother, not the scourge, and certainly not the Void. Whatever might come from this change, there was one thing she knew for certain. She was in control.

[celenacallaghan]

Hello all. So, I have some news to impart along with this latest chapter.

"Toward the Dawn" is going on indefinite hiatus.

I'm not abandoning Izzy's story. Not at all. I love Izzy, as much as I love Desi, Kav, and all the other OCs I've made. And of course, I still love the canon characters and the world of Azeroth itself. It's just....things happened over the past couple of years. Things that left me "creatively injured."

Think of it like breaking a hip (or ankle or wrist or whatnot.) Instead of getting PT and staying off my feet, I've gone right back to forcing myself into training for a marathon. It's sucked all the joy outta something i love, and it has for a long time. My productivity has tanked and I do everything to avoid writing. So now, I'm forcing myself to treat the injury before it becomes permanent.

Thank you all for reading and commenting, leaving kudos, and following along on Izzy's journey. It's been a wonderful few years and hopefully, someday, there'll be more years to come ^^ Stay safe and sane, everyone.

[ladymischievous]

A Twist of Fate: An AU Khadgar and Medivh Fanfic

Not an update, will do so eventually just currently stuck. Just posting for some fun and comfort given some of the Khadgar stuff I've been seeing floating around. Title: A Twist of Fate Rating: PG-13 Pairing: RavenTrust (Eventually, don't like? Then don't read), Slowburn Type: Alternate Universe/Alternate Timeline, A version of the setting and characters based off of parts of the MMO, The book 'The Last Guardian', the Warcraft Movie, and Hearthstone's 'One Night in Karazhan', with some original ideas. Sounds like a mess, but this has honestly been a lot of fun. Warnings: Mentions of past abuse and manipulations from institutes of power and personal connections, eventual moments of horror/psychological horror. Medivh's moods. Medivh and Khadgar clash occasionally. Friendship and eventual romance is a slow burn.

A Twist of Fate can be found on AO3.

[wolfandwild]

Summary: Azeroth has recently enjoyed a period of relative peace, with the  Alliance and the Horde having put aside their differences to forge new  bonds and look towards a brighter future. But dark storm clouds are  already beginning to gather on the horizon. Despite Archmage Khadgar’s  best efforts, the treacherous Gul'dan remains elusive. A mysterious cult  of warlocks emerges in the Eastern Kingdoms. Doomsayers start to sing  portents of the end of the world… and closer to home, High King Varian  Wrynn and his Queen, Auriana, must face challenges of a far more  personal nature…

Chapter Eleven now updated.

Fanfiction.net

Archive Of Our Own

[mothervvoid]

1/1ch | 1.2k wc

Diane tells a ghost story.

[newtthetranswriter]

If you saw the now deleted posts about a Kalecgos fanfiction I made do not worry I am actually working on one. It's not my original idea but a better one I had last night. I just have to figure out how to start it without it sounding like I'm writing an essay about W.o.W.

[khadgars-little-imp]

(( I went back and fixed up the color. I’m liking this a lot better ))

[zenithangelic]

Requests are open!

I write for a lot of fandoms, including but not exclusively:

asoiaf/got

baldur's gate 3

dead by daylight

elder scrolls

fallout

horror characters (request any)

mass effect

overwatch

resident evil

saints row

shameless (US)

silent hill

vampire: the masquerade - bloodlines

the witcher

world of warcraft

& many more! If there is a fandom not on the list that you would like me to write for, please ask me if I write for that fandom along with your request :)

[celenacallaghan]

As the Horde and Alliance prepare to march on the Wrathgate, Izzy is determined to foster the bare amount of cooperation between the two factions. An unexpected visitor doesn't change her plans until they meet face to face. A missive to Sylvanas Windrunner leads the Banshee Queen to a terrible choice: her people or her priestess?

This chapter was a bear to write, but I did it anyway, haha. I even accomplished my goal of posting before the end of the month! Thank you all for your patience, stay safe and sane, and I’ll see you next time.

[luuntears]

Chapter Four has been posted! For those who are interested in reading, I have a WoW AU fanfic featuring my OC/The Slayer going back in time to Argus. It's a very slow updating process, so chapters will be posted at inconsistent times.

[knightphobeus]

"...I'm so glad you're back."

Varian smiles at the woman - his sister, Adariall Wrynn. Nearby, a man about their age and a young man, slightly older than Anduin, waits nearby with a hidden incense censor.

"I wrestle with my anger every day..."

Jaina looks wistfully out a window as she speaks to Rubeus, who watches with a curious and concerned look to his red eyes, seeming to think on some half-remembered memory.

"To say we must be neutral and not remember those that created chaos..."

The white-haired former leader of the Black Moon laughs as he holds the two Silver Crystals. Kel'thuzad rises as a Lich, moving to stand next to the Dreadknight Arthas. Aethas Sunreaver laughs in his mania, the brightness around him not hiding his madness.

"...is to become hypocritical in our own way."

The four stand as Sapphire speaks, then they all smile in agreement.

"Wild Wind Blows"

A man and troll sit on a mountaintop, looking out upon the land. As the sky grows dark while they head back down the mountain, there is a sudden flash of light, and a star disappears from the sky.

[wolfandwild]

Summary: Azeroth has recently enjoyed a period of relative peace, with the  Alliance and the Horde having put aside their differences to forge new  bonds and look towards a brighter future. But dark storm clouds are  already beginning to gather on the horizon. Despite Archmage Khadgar’s  best efforts, the treacherous Gul'dan remains elusive. A mysterious cult  of warlocks emerges in the Eastern Kingdoms. Doomsayers start to sing  portents of the end of the world… and closer to home, High King Varian  Wrynn and his Queen, Auriana, must face challenges of a far more  personal nature…

Chapter Ten now updated.

Fanfiction.net

Archive Of Our Own

[ladymischievous]

A Twist of Fate Chapter 7: The Masks We Wear

Posting this again. Currently taking a break to recharge but I'm really proud of how chapters 6 & 7 turned out. Still in the sketching phase for chapter 8. It's going to take a while to write down but I hope you will enjoy the story so far.

-Snippet for Chapter 7-

Northshire Abbey was one of the most peaceful places Khadgar had ever stayed at. Which made it all the more unsettling to him. There was no doubt that the abbey was beautiful, it had the feel and charm as many old places did. The building stood tall and proud, made of stone that was carved into ornate iconography of the religion of ‘The Light’. Symbols above archways and statues of heroes and saints of the past lined the walls of corridors in niches or stood in the abbey garden. The inside of the abbey was also cool, something Khadgar very much appreciated, as the climate in the south of the continent was much warmer than back home.

There always seemed to be the lingering distant smells of incense, old books, or cooking food. Khadgar couldn’t say it was a ‘bad’ place to stay, but he certainly felt out of place. He hadn’t been to a church service since he was a child, before coming to Dalaran. It was a time he preferred not to think about.

So Khadgar kept himself busy. He was settled in a chair in the room Medivh had been laid to rest in. He worked on writing notes and sketches of the events that had happened the night before. It was hard to believe any of it was real. Khadgar would sometimes look down at his hand, the one that held Medivh’s dagger, and find it trembling. Sometimes when he dozed off, he’d relive furiously stabbing the scarecrow he protected Medivh from. Only Khadgar would end up seeing that the scarecrow was himself. His own blue eyes were glassy and dull, staring upwards at the sky. Khadgar was certain a part of him died that night, as for which part, he wasn’t sure. ‘Innocence’ didn’t exactly fit with everything he’d seen and done while uncovering secrets in Dalaran. If it was, then it may have been the very last shreds of innocence he had.

Khadgar paused in his work and looked at his sleeping companion. Medivh was still in a deep sleep. It was later in the afternoon and he had been slowly recovering. Now Medivh looked as though he had aged only about ten years. The gray in his hair had returned to its deep black color and color returned to his face. He still looked drained and fragile. It made Khadgar feel uneasy.

Looking down at his notes, Khadgar was reminded that Medivh had been targeted. The fog, the gnolls that tracked them like animals, someone had it out for Medivh. It made Khadgar eye every visiting nurse, doctor, or worker with a hint of suspicion. He’d watch everyone and what they did around or to Medivh carefully. If he was being targeted, then it surely wouldn’t be the only attempt.

Khadgar kept Medivh’s dagger close by, promising himself that he’d return it when he woke up.

The sound of heavy footsteps drew his attention towards the door. Anduin Lothar had arrived and stood in the doorway, giving Khadgar a confused look. He then noticed the cot set up close to Medivh’s bed and frowned.

“Don’t tell me the folks here weren’t able to set you up with a room.” Lothar said. “I’ll have things sorted ou--”

“They did.” Khadgar spoke up, cutting him off. “I turned them down and asked to stay here.”

-End of Snippet- Read the rest on AO3. Chapter 6: Night of the Wicked Harvest Chapter 7: The Masks We Wear

Starting from the beginning? Chapter 1: Lucky Number 13

[mothervvoid]

1/1ch | 805 wc

A Deathstalker places his life in the hands of another.

[ladystardust34]

THE FORGED THRONE BOOK III

Chapter 11 has been posted!

The world is breaking.  The earth rumbles in agony, the seas begin to boil, and there seems to be nothing anyone can do to stop the Cataclysm. For the Wrynns, however, Azeroth is not the only thing that will end up being torn asunder. For a threat to their family looms alot closer than they could ever realise.

Cover art by Donfuchs.

Read it on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38784561/chapters/123766528#workskin