The door to Naya Tien’s bedroom opened. She looked up from her task of folding clothes and saw her son, Nikolas, standing there, faintly silhouetted by the firelight from the hearth in the next room.
“You’re back,” she said, relief visible on her face. “Were you seen?”
Nikolas smiled, though a bit weakly, she noticed. “If I was, I must have been scary enough to convince them not to do anything.”
Naya smiled back at her son’s comment. Every time he left to scout the enemy positions, she worried constantly until came back safe. And he always did.
“Anything important to report,” she asked, returning her attention to the clothes.
“Not this time. The Scourge is still well entrenched at Andorhal, and they don’t show any signs that they’re planning to move anytime soon.” Nikolas walked over to the window and sat on the sill, staring out through the glass. The sun would set soon, enveloping the world in darkness.
“Anyone we know die today?” Naya asked the question casually, for long months of war, especially a losing one, had numbed her, her family, and many others in town to death.
“No, not that I know of,” came the quiet reply.
“Then what’s bothering you?” She always knew when Nikolas had something on his mind, something he wanted to get out but couldn’t without prompting.
Nikolas took a deep breath, willing himself to speak. This had been coming for some time now.
“I’m leaving.”
“Where is your assignment this time,” she asked. “Or are you allowed to say?”
“There is no assignment,” was the soft answer.
Naya stopped folding clothes again and looked at her son. He was still looking through the window into the distance, as if trying to see something far off.
“What do you mean?”
Nikolas looked at his mother. “I mean I’m leaving Hearthglen. I don’t intend to return, at least not for a while.”
She laid the half-folded shirt in her hands down on the bed and walked over to the window where he son stood.
“Nikolas, what’s wrong? Tell me, please.”
“You know what’s wrong, mother.”
“Is it Isillien again?”
Nikolas chuckled. “You say that like he’s a schoolyard bully. You say that like I’m a child.”
“But that’s what it is, though,” she continued. They had debated the High Priest often over the last fortnight or so.
“Mother, it’s the same thing it has been for the last few weeks: Isillien, the Crusade, everything.”
“I thought we were over that, Nikolas,” she said, frowning.
“You and Katia are over it. None of this was ever an issue to you or her,” Nikolas responded, his voice becoming more earnest.
Naya assumed a stern look on her face. “Nikolas, why does Isillien bother you so much? Why is he such an obstacle for you?”
“Why do you trust him so much? You don’t really know him,” he shot back.
“I know that he wants to reclaim Lordaeron from the Scourge, something we all want. I know he believes in and uses the power of the Light, something we al believe in. And I know he feels the same pain of loss that our family does.”
Naya put her hand on her son’s shoulder. “Your father’s death is still very hard on all of us. I know, Katia knows, how especially hard it is for you, since you saw him killed- you were there beside him when he was murdered by those undead monsters.” Her voice cracked, and she wiped her eyes, which had become moist from emotion at the topic of Altus Tien’s death.
“It is hard,” Nikolas admitted. “I think about it every day. But is this, what Isillien teaches, the course Father would want us to walk?”
“What do you mean?”
Nikolas stood and started pacing, clearly agitated. “I’m talking about what I always talk about, Mother: Isillien, his teaching, his ‘Scarlet Crusade.’
“Can’t you see how extreme, how dangerous his mind is becoming? He has become so bent on fighting the Scourge, he can’t even see straight.”
“We should all be so dedicated to driving back those monsters,” Naya said, the fervor in her voice rising.
“Aye, and I want them gone as much as anyone, Mother, but at what cost? Isillien’s men have started treating everyone who doesn’t share their zeal or fervor as harshly as they treat the Scourge.”
“What do you mean,” Naya asked, her bow furrowed with concern.
“Isillien and his soldiers are labeling people who don’t follow his teaching and ideas as collaborators. They say that anyone who doesn’t support the Crusade is as good as an enemy like the Scourge, and that if you’re not with the Crusade, you’re against it.”
“And you disagree?”
Nikolas was taken aback at this challenge. “You’re bleedin’ right, I disagree. Mother, we’re talking about rage and a desire for vengeance against the Scourge, and it’s so strong, the Crusade can’t see friend from foe. To them, anyone not in a red and white tabard might as well have sunken eyes and flesh falling off his bones! Innocent people are being imprisoned and even executed because they won’t ‘join the Crusade!’ I’ve seen the executions myself, and it happens away from the eyes of the public. They don’t even get a trial!”
Naya took a deep breath. “I’m sure what you saw had an explanation.”
“But it never does, Mother! Every time I come to you, concerned about what I see in the Scarlet Crusade, you tell me there must be an explanation. But there never is. I talk to soldiers, and they’re silent. I try to get in to see Isillien, but he’s always unavailable. I write my concerns to him, but they go unanswered. And my family won’t listen either- you’re too caught up in Isillien’s teaching and greatness to see that he’s made fools of you all!”
Nikolas didn’t anticipate the strike that came from his mother’s hand to his cheek. She stared into his eyes, anger burning flames behind her own eyes.
“Wanting to destroy the same abominations that murdered your father is not foolish. Wanting to reclaim the home that was ripped away from you and your family is not foolish. It is not foolish to want to banish the same demons who have ruined life itself from the world! They took everything, Nikolas, everything but you and your sister. Isillien wants to claim it back, to try and rescue some small piece of the lives we had before. If extreme measures need to be taken to visit on the Scourge the same destruction and violence and ruin that they have brought to us, then so be it!”
“And what of those who aren’t undead, who don’t want to join this mad Crusade,” Nikolas shot back. Both he and his mother were standing, facing each other and staring hard into each other’s eyes.
“If they won’t help us, they’ll just get in the way. And they’ll just as likely end up as victims of the Scourge, raised to fight against us. It’s better that they die by our hand than by that of the Scourge. We’re doing them a service.”
Nikolas’ expression turned from one of determination to one of incredulity. “Can you hear yourself, Mother? Do you actually understand what you’re saying? You’re talking madness, the same madness Prince Arthas felt at Stratholme.”
“Don’t you dare compare the Crusade to Arthas and his downfall. He fell to the Scourge, yes, because he was beguiled by demons. The only way for us to avoid the same fate is to fight fire with fire, to have the strength to stand against the demons, no matter the cost.”
Nikolas sighed. “You’re talking just like Arthas did, Mother. Father and Uther and the other paladins left Prince Arthas because he talked like that.”
“You leave your father out of this! You don’t know what he would have done!”
“I know he wouldn’t have thrown away what he believed in, all for the sake of revenge.”
There was a long pause. Both continued to breathe, their breath burdened by the heavy conversation.
“And what about me, Mother,” Nikolas began quietly. “You know I don’t believe in the Scarlet Crusade, I don’t approve of their methods and ideology, and I have absolutely no intention of joining them. Am I to be arrested and executed as a collaborator as well?”
Naya was taken aback. “No, of course not,” she said, nearly stammering.
“And why not?”
“You’re different,” came her soft answer.
“And what makes me different,” Nikolas asked. “Why do I deserve special treatment?”
“Because you’re my son- and the son of Altus Tien. The Crusade will respect that,” she said, though to Nikolas, she sounded not altogether convinced.
“Mother, I am no better than anyone out there, much less those who have been murdered in the name of the Crusade. And it’s only a matter of time before one of those…Crusaders…decides I’m not pulling my weight. You know that will happen.”
Naya was quiet for a moment. When she finally spoke, it was almost a whisper.
“So you’re just leaving, then.” It was more of a statement than a question.
Nikolas’ face almost pled for her understanding, though he didn’t expect much of it.
“We don’t share the same view of this Crusade, you and I. I’m as angry and sad and pained as you are over Father’s death. And I want to be rid of the Scourge as much as anyone. But the road you and Katia and the others are choosing to walk is a dangerous one and for me, it heads to dark places. And I will not go down that road. Yes, the Undead are monsters, and yes, we must fight them. But what good is it to fight for our homes if we lose ourselves in that fight? You know I love you, Mother, and I want to stand with you and Katia and finish this war. But you are becoming consumed by revenge and hate, and that is something I can not and will not do. If I can’t be with my family, then I will go and find the place where I am needed. If that’s against the Scourge, so be it.”
He walked up to her. “If it is somewhere else, then that is where I will be.” An embrace and he kissed her on the forehead. Naya started to cry, but did not notice the tears in her own son’s eyes as he whispered into her ear.
“Come and find me anytime.”
And with that, Nikolas turned around and left.
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