//------------------------------//
// 54. Past of the Damned 
// Story: Rebirth of the Damned 
// by Borsuq 
//------------------------------//

	Matthias patted Luna’s mane in an effort to calm her down as she cried into his chest. He was... horrified. When three months ago he read about Luna becoming Nightmare Moon, he didn’t know there was so much sadness behind this story. Even when he realized that the Old Gods were somehow related to this incident, it didn’t cross his head that she had to suffer so much. Even he, the man who became the Lich King and betrayed everyone and everything he ever loved, wondered which one of them was more harshly experienced by fate.
He wasn’t sure what made him think it: was it the fact that she lost her foal and love of her life, all due having her perception of world around her twisted by the whispers of the Old Gods, or because she was a pony, born in a world that Matthias came to think of as paradise.
 “I-I don’t remember... what happened next.” Luna sobbing stopped his musing. “It’s all... foggy. All I can recall is agony, hatred... I... don’t even know how I managed to return, or what I was doing before Twilight and the others healed me with the Elements. As for those whispers... I didn’t even realized those thoughts weren’t mine until you pointed it out.”
As she spoke, Luna began to regain her composure. She pulled away from Matthias and wiped tears from her eyes.
“I’m sorry... I always cry when I recall my...” she choked on her own words.
“It’s alright.” he said gently. “I actually expected you to start crying long before that happened.”
Luna gave him a sad smile, but it disappeared as she asked:
“Why did she had to die? Was it because I murdered that baby dragon? Why did this all...”
“I cannot answer those questions, Luna. Bad things happen, whatever we like it or not, and not even the Light can protect everyone from darkness. But know this:” Matthias added as he grew more serious, “as long as I am here, I won’t let you or anypony else, suffer like this again. I swear it.”
The Princess of the Night brightened up a bit at his promise, which he knew despite his fear regarding the future, he would keep it.
“No matter the cost.” he thought darkly, wondering if he himself one day won’t cause greater suffering in Equestria.
He shook his head as he glanced around the meadow under the stars where they returned after they were pulled from Luna’s memory. Matthias knew what would come next, and he was still not excited about this.
“Your past...” he told the Princess, and hesitated. “Luna, in my opinion, it was more tragic than mine... To you, and Celestia. But...”
“Matthias.” Luna interrupted him with a sad smile. “I did not show you my story so that we could hold a contest as to who had it worse. I did it because I wanted you to feel more comfortable showing me yours, and because I wanted to confine in you. I suspected that your story might be more...” she paused as she searched for an appropriate word.
“Evil?” Matthias hinted.
“For the lack of better term, let’s go with that.” she nodded. “As I said, I suspected that your story might be more evil, due to how violent your world is compared to ours. But, I believe that it won’t change how I see you now, as I see you as a figure of good.”
Matthias perked his ears, surprised by those words.
“I’m... honored that you think so, Luna.” he said, bowing. After that he sighed and looked around: “This is my dream, right? So all I have to do is remember what I want to show you?”
“Correct.” Luna replied, nodding.
“A dream of remembrance...” Matthias muttered, shaking his head. “I suppose we should start, then. Even if you can manipulate time in dreams, it must have taken some time outside to show me your past, right?”
“Yes, I think...” the Princess of the Night closed her eyes for a second. “…it has been about fifteen minutes. Good thing there is nopony in the court at the moment; it would be embarrassing to sit on that throne with eyes closed for so long.”
“Fifteen minutes?” the earth pony repeated, surprised. “You’re really good at this. It used to take me whole days to remember everything in my life.”
“You’ve done this before?”
“More or less, you should soon see. Now then,” Matthias paused “let’s see… when was the first moment that darkness brushed my world... I guess...”
 
Luna watched as the scene around them shifted, still feeling her renewed pain, but overall better now that she confided in Matthias. Now she had to bear his story, to help him ease his suffering.
The scene she and Matthias found themselves seemed as peaceful as her first memories she showed him. But Luna quickly realized that something was wrong as she saw a small... human, as she recalled, that came out of barn, his rather expensive looking clothes all covered in straw and spit, followed by youth of his own age and adult one, possibly father of the other boy. The first youth said in a familiar voice:
“Sir Uther, these people have been kind to me. I pray, don’t go trampling their poultry.”
“Or their snapdragons bed.” she heard him think as he spared a glance at the snow-covered piles of raised earth were, before he returned his attention to a tall, powerfully built man that was sitting on...
“What is that?!?” Luna gasped, staring at something seemed to her be some grotesque than that of a pony.
“Oh, I forgot.” Matthias said uncomfortably, as he pause the memory. “On Azeroth, ponies and horses... look like this.”
“Like this?!? But they’re so...” Princess stopped herself before she said ‘hideous’.
“Well, I doubt they care.” the earth pony replied, chuckling. “They are not as intelligent as Equestrian’s ponies, as they can’t talk... Humans used them mostly as means of transportation. So, as you can figure, I was really, really surprised when I found myself here.”
Luna nodded absently as she stared at the ugly horse, and the one riding him. As the memory began to play again before her, she realized that both of them fully clad in-
“Armor!” the little human, that as Luna have realized must have been a young Matthias, gasped. “What’s happened?”
“I’ll explain on the way.” the knight, Uther, said grimly. “I’ll send someone back for your horse, Prince Arthas.”
“Prince Arthas.” Luna mused, not at all surprised that he gave ponies different name once he woke up in the hospital.
“Steadfast can travel faster even with two.” Uther continued as he reached down and grabbed Arthas arm and swung him up on the back of the animal. Noticing a woman that came out from the house, the knight nodded politely to her.
“We’ll discuss this later, Ma’am.” he said, touching his forehead with a mailed hand, then kicked his horse and rode away, holding Arthas around his midsection.
“I know how to ride.” the boy said, obviously annoyed. “Tell me what is going on.”
“A rider from Southshore has come and gone. He brings ill news. A few days ago, hundreds of small boats filled with refugees from Stormwind landed on our shores.” Uther said, without removing his arm. His face was grim as he spoke the next words: “Stormwind has fallen.”

...
 
“Prince Arthas, the undead forces have arrived!”
Luna watched, terrified, as the young prince whirled on the sound of Captain Falric’s voice and regarded the approaching army of undead. She had just bore witness to the horrific fate of Hearthglen’s defenders, their lives taken away and their bodies transformed into abominations of nature, all due the bread baked from grain plagued by the one called Kel’Thuzad.
“So many...” Luna thought, and heard Arthas’s thoughts echo hers. “How can they...”
She paused as she saw the Prince thrust his hammer into the air. It flared to glowing life.
“Hold your ground!” he cried out, his voice no longer weak and shaking or was harsh and angry. “We are the chosen of the Light! We shall not fall!”
Luna watched in awe as the brave human charged at the monstrosities, leading his men.

...
 
“This entire city must be purged.”
Arthas’s statement was blunt and brutal. Luna blinked. Surely he hadn’t meant that
 
...

“Now, I call out to the spirits of this place,” Arhtas said, his breath frosting in the cold, still air.
“Please, don’t do it.” Luna whispered, despite knowing this was just a memory.
She could feel the evil emanating from the blade that was just beyond his reach, Frostmourne hung, suspended, awaiting him.
“Whatever you be, good or ill or neither or both. I can feel you here. I know you are listening. I’m ready. I understand. And I tell you now—I will give anything, or pay any price, if only you will help me save my people.”
 
...

Princess Luna dreaded what was about to come next. She knew what it was; she heard the whispers of Frostmourne speaking to Arthas, telling him what to do, controlling him. Luna had witness him do terrible things, and yet she knew that the worst was yet to come.
Those who marched behind him were as silent as he, their faces as cowled. The crowd did not seem to require their response to wildly celebrate their return. The mighty drawbridge was lowered and Arthas strode across it. The cheering throngs were here too, no longer comprised of commoners, but of diplomats, lesser nobility, visiting dignitaries from the elves, dwarves, and gnomes kingdoms. They stood not just in the courtyard but also above it in viewing boxes. Rose petals, pink and white and red, rained down upon the land’s returning hero.
“Jaina…” the thought appeared in Arthas head as he remembered that once, he had thought to see Jaina standing before him on their wedding day, the petals falling upon a face lit with a smile, turned up to kiss him.
Moved by the image, he caught one of the red petals in a gloved hand. He thumbed it thoughtfully, and then frowned as a stain appeared. It grew before his eyes, desiccating and destroying the petal, until it was more brown than red in his palm. With a quick, dismissive gesture, he tossed the dead thing away and continued.
He pushed open the huge doors to the throne room he knew so well, strode forward, glanced at King Terenas briefly, and threw his father a smile that was mostly hidden by the cowl. Arthas knelt in obeisance, Frostmourne held before him, its tip touching the seal carved into the stone floor.
“Ah, my son. Glad I am to see you safely home,” Terenas said, rising somewhat unsteadily. Terenas looked unwell. The incidents of the last several months had aged the monarch. His hair was grayer now, his eyes tired.
But it was all going to be all right now.
“You no longer need to sacrifice for your people.” Arthas said out-loud the whispers from Frostmourne. “You no longer need to bear the weight of your crown. I’ve taken care of everything.”
Arthas rose, his armor clattering with the movement. He lifted a hand and drew back the hood from his face, watching for his father’s reaction. Terenas’s eyes widened as he took in the change that had come over his only son.
Arthas’s hair, which was once golden as the wheat that had given sustenance to his people, was now bone white. He knew his face was pale as well, as if the blood had been drained from it.
“It is time.” Frostmourne whispered in his mind. Arthas moved toward his father, who had halted on the dais, staring, uncertain. There were several guards positioned about the room, but they would be no match against him, Frostmourne, and the two who had accompanied him. Arthas strode boldly up the carpeted steps and seized his father by the arm.
Arthas drew back his blade. Frostmourne’s runes brightened in anticipation. And then a whisper, not from the runeblade, but a memory from a friend—
—the voice of a dark- haired prince, seemingly from another lifetime ago—

“He was assassinated. A trusted friend…she killed him. Stabbed him right in the heart…”

Arthas shook his head and the voice was silenced.
“What is this? What are you doing, my son?”
“Succeeding you…Father.”
Luna could barely believe what happened next, despite knowing it would come to pass. She watched in shock, as the son slew his father, letting his crown to fall off and bounce down the floor.
 
... 
 
The Princess of the Night watched as Arthas moved almost as if in a daze, down the lengths of twining tunnels that led ever deeper into the bowels of the earth, feeling sick. She almost wished that she had never proposed to see these... horrors. Only the knowledge that this nightmare had eventually ended and her resolve to help Matthias kept her here.
Arthas feet seemed guided, and while there was no noise, certainly no one to challenge his right to be here. He felt, and through him, Luna, rather than heard, a deep thrum of power. He continued to descend, feeling that call of power drawing him ever closer to his destiny.
Up ahead was a cold, blue-white light. Arthas moved toward it, almost breaking into a run, and the tunnel opened up into what Luna could only think of as a throne chamber. For just ahead was a structure that made Arthas’s breath catch in his throat.
The Lich King’s prison sat atop of this twining tower, this spire of blue- green, shimmering ice that-was-not-ice that rose up as if to pierce the very roof of the cavern. A narrow walkway wound, serpentine, about the spire, leading him upward. Still filled with the energy granted to him by the Lich King, Arthas did not tire, but unwelcome memories seemed to dart at him like flies as he ascended, putting one booted foot in front of the other. Words, phrases, images came back to him.
“Remember, Arthas. We are paladins. Vengeance cannot be a part of what we must do. If we allow our passions to turn to bloodlust, then we will become as vile as the orcs.”
“No one can seem to deny you anything, least of all me.”
“Don’t deny me, Jaina. Don’t ever deny me. Please.”
“I never would, Arthas. Never.”
He kept going, relentlessly moving upward.
“We know so little—we can’t just slaughter them like animals out of our own fear!”
“This is bad business, lad. Leave it be. Let it stay here, lost and forgotten…. We’ll find another way tae save yer people. Let’s leave now, go back, and find that way.”
One foot followed the other. Upward, ever upward. An image of black wings brushed his memory.
“I will leave you one final prediction. Just remember, the harder you strive to slay your enemies, the faster you’ll deliver your people into their hands.”
Even as these memories tugged at him, clutched at his heart, there was one image, one voice that was stronger and more compelling than all the others, whispering, encouraging him: “Closer you draw, my champion. My moment of freedom comes…and with it, your ascension to true power.”
Upward he climbed, as he gazed ever on the peak. On the huge chunk of deep blue ice that imprisoned the one who had first set Arthas’s feet on this path. Closer it drew, until Arthas came to a halt a few feet away. For a long moment, he regarded the figure trapped within, imperfectly glimpsed. Mist rolled off the huge chunk of ice, further obscuring the image.
Frostmourne glowed in his hand. From deep inside, Arthas saw the barest hint of an answering flare of two points of glowing blue light.
“RETURN THE BLADE,” came a deep, rasping voice in Arthas’s mind, almost unbearably loud. “COMPLETE THE CIRCLE. RELEASE ME FROM THIS PRISON!”
Arthas took a step forward, then another, lifting Frostmourne as he moved until he was running. This was the moment it had all been leading to, and without realizing it, a roar built in his throat and tore free as he swung the blade down with all of his strength.
A massive cracking resounded through the chamber as Frostmourne slammed down. The ice shattered, huge chunks flying in every direction. Arthas lifted his arms to shield himself, but the shards flew past him harmlessly. Pieces fell from the imprisoned body, and the Lich King cried out, lifting his armored arms to the sky. More groaning, cracking sounds came from the cavern and from the being himself, so loud that Arthas winced and covered his ears. It was as if the very world was tearing itself apart. Suddenly the armored figure that was the Lich King seemed to shatter as his prison did, falling apart before Arthas’s stunned gaze.
There was nothing — no one — inside.
Only the armor, which was icy black, clattering to lie in pieces. The helm, empty of its owner’s head, slid to a halt to lie at Arthas’s feet. He stared down at it for a long moment, a deep shiver passing through him.
“What’s going on?” Luna thought, confused. As much as she had wanted for Arthas to simply get the buck away from that place, she was now actually curious as to what was going to happen next.
All this time…he had been chasing a ghost. Had the Lich King ever really been here? If not—who had thrust Frostmourne from the ice? Who had demanded to be freed? Was Arthas Menethil supposed to have been the one encased in the Frozen Throne all along?
Had this ghost he’d been chasing…been himself?
Questions that would most likely will be answered. But one thing was clear to him. As Frostmourne had been for him, so was the armor. Gauntleted fingers closed over the spiked helm and he lifted it slowly, reverently, and then, closing his eyes, he lowered it onto his white head.
He was suddenly galvanized; his body tensing as he felt the essence of the Lich King entered him. It pierced his heart, stopped his breath, shivered along his veins, icy, powerful, crashing through him like a tidal wave. His eyes were closed, but he saw, he saw so much—all that Ner’zhul, the orc shaman, had known, all he had seen, had done. For a moment, Arthas feared he would be overwhelmed by it all, that in the end, the Lich King had tricked him into coming here so that he could place his essence in a fresh new body. He braced himself for a battle for control, with his body as the prize.
But there was no struggle, only blending, a melding. All around him, the cavern continued to collapse. Arthas was only barely aware of it. His eyes darted rapidly back and forth beneath his closed lids.
His lips moved. He spoke.
They…spoke.
“Now…we are one.”
 
 ...
 
Long years passed, and during that time, Luna witnessed more horrific events than she thought she ever could. She was glad that Matthias decided to keep the truth about his past to himself – as she doubted anypony other than herself, who had also been witness and used to such tragedy (albeit on much smaller scale), could see all of this and remain sane.
She watched him kill his innocence and the one that shaped him. She watched him cut out his own heart and cast it away, only to have it destroyed right in front of him months later. Luna bore witness to the war in Northrend, with countless dying and bolstering the armies of the Scourge over which Arthas ruled.
But now, when the moment came that she wanted so much to come by, the moment of what she thought to be the moment of his demise, she found herself disappointed.
The people of Azeroth failed.
They laid dead all around Arthas, who killed them all in one strike after a long battle, which was apparently a childish play to him. Luna knew this was his plan of course, she could hear his thoughts, but still she hoped he made some mistake or miscalculation.
 
But the Lich King’s power was simply too great.
 
“No questions remain unanswered.” Arthas spoke in his echoing voice. “No doubts linger. You ARE Azeroth's greatest champions! You overcame every challenge I laid before you. My mightiest servants have fallen before your relentless onslaught, your unbridled fury...” he paused for a moment before continuing: “Is it truly righteousness that drives you? I wonder.”
He turned and Luna followed his glance to Tirion Fordring, still imprisoned within the block of ice.
“You trained them well, Fordring. You delivered the greatest fighting force this world has ever known... right into my hands - exactly as I intended. You shall be rewarded for your unwitting sacrifice.” the Lich King turned his back on Tirion and raised his cursed blade into the air. “Watch now as I raise them from the dead to become masters of the Scourge. They will shroud this world in chaos and destruction. Azeroth's fall will come at their hands -- and you will be the first to die.” Arthas laughed as the dark energies of his sword grasped the bodies of fallen heroes. “I delight in the irony.”
“LIGHT, GRANT ME ONE FINAL BLESSING. GIVE ME THE STRENGTH... TO SHATTER THESE BONDS!” Tirion yelled within the block of ice. Suddenly, there was a sudden burst of Light that came from Tirion, shattering his icy prison. Luna’s eyes went wide as she gazed at the old paladin throw himself at the Lich King and swung Ashbringer at Frostmourne...
… and broke it.
“YES!” Luna thought in joy as Arthas stared at the sundered blade.
“Impossible...” he murmured as he dropped the hilt on the ground.
“No more, Arthas!” Tirion yelled. “No more lives will be consumed by your hatred!”
Unexpectedly, a purple energy burst from the shattered hilt. The souls trapped inside Frostmourne escaped and swirled around the Lich King. He yelled as they lift him into the air and immobilize him.
Next to him, the ghost of Terenas appeared.
“Free at last! It is over, my son. This is the moment of reckoning.” the last King of Lordaeron said as he raised his emanating with Light hand, while Tirion run towards the Lich King and attacked him, but Ashbringer bounced off from his plate armor. “Rise up, champions of the Light!”
Luna watched in awe as all the fallen heroes were showered in Light and stirred, to rise up moments later, and moved to finish the Lich King once and for all.
“Now I stand, the lion before the lambs...” she heard Arthas mutter despite the noise the blades and spells made as they all were repelled by his armor and the aura of his power, still fearsome, even when not focused. “...and they do not fear. They cannot fear.”
Finally, one hero, a night elf death knight, wielding the axe she knew to be named Shadowmourne, managed to break through his armor and cut into his flesh.
…Right in the spot where Matthias had scar.
“This is it... it’s finally over.” Luna thought, as the swirling maelstrom of souls stopped and the Lich King falls to the ground, grunting in pain and losing the Helm of Domination. He tried to reach for it but loses what little strength he had and collapsed.
The ghost of Terenas Menethil materialized over his dying son from the freed souls circling the area as the blue glow dissipates from Arthas eyes. Terenas kneeled down, and cradled his son's head, neck and shoulder, so they can properly look at each other.
“Father?” Arthas gasped, as with his last burst of energy he placed a hand on his father's chest. “Is it... over?”
The tone of voice he had when he spoke those words didn’t escape Luna’s notice.
He was begging for it to be over.
Terenas laid a comforting hand on Arthas' gauntlet as he answered:
“At long last. No king rules forever, my son.”
Arthas looked away from his father, taking some comfort in those words in his final moments.
“I see... only darkness... before me...” he said, as everything around him, Luna and Matthias, became engulfed in black.
Almost at once, the darkness disappeared, and Luna found herself and Matthias at the same meadow they were before they ventured into his memories. As the dark blue alicorn looked at him, she realized he had his eyes still locked on the spot where his father was moments ago, holding his dying self.
The Princess wondered what she should say, after witnessing all the events that he’s been through, which was something she was thinking for some time.
Only one thing came to her mind
 
“I was wrong when I said that it wouldn’t change how I see you now... Arthas.”
 
Arthas closed his eyes as Luna called him by his real name.
“No surprise there.” he thought, sadness gripping his heart. “Nopony could be friendly towards me knowing the truth.”
“Now I see you to be even more worthy of respect.”
He turned his head towards her so fast that he almost twisted his neck.
“Excuse me?” he asked, surely he misheard that.
“You’ve been through so much...” Luna said and paused, to better collect her thoughts. “You were transformed from the Prince that would do everything to protect his subject from harm, to the monster that killed and tortured thousands... And now, that you regained your true self, you are still sane, and able to live with yourself, despite the feeling of guilt you carry. That speaks of strength, Arthas.”
“It’s not really due to my strength, Luna.” Arthas sighed. “At first, I fought about killing myself after awakening in Equestria, but before I had a chance to even think this through, I heard those three fillies crying for help. Later, I remained alive to figure out why I was... well, alive, and now...”
“And now you live, because you want to be with your friends.” Luna finished for him. “You live for them, Arthas, and you try to fight the feeling of belonging with dead. That takes strength, and courage.”
The earth pony pondered on her words. Was she right? Was he actually showing strength and courage in wanting to live, instead of weakness and cowardice?
“Once again, I was proven that Equestria is a weird place.” he said finally. “To think that there would be somepony that could know about my past and-”
“-and not run away screaming?” the Princess chuckled. “I know something about this, trust me.”
“Imagine then, how would they react...”
“Arthas, I told you before, I won’t tell anypony what you’d tell me, didn’t I? I still stand by my word. I trust you, and think of you as friend. And if you ever want to talk about anything in regards to your past, I will listen.”
“Thank you, Luna.” Arthas said, bowing. “I am glad to call you friend, and... thank you... for listening. It really helps.”
He meant it. Some part of him felt great relief in revealing his past to somepony, after three month of trying desperately to hide it from everypony. The knowledge that there is one pony that knew about it and that he could talk to her about it was comforting.
“That being said,” Luna broke his thoughts as she stood up, stretching her wings, “I think it would be best for now for you to return to dreaming, and me to return to my body.”
“I almost forgot that this is all a dream, actually.” Arthas said, chuckling, as he watched Luna’s horn glow with magic.
“One more thing before I leave...” the Princess of the Night added as she paused. “Don’t repeat the mistake you made as you chased Mal’Ganis: think of the living, instead of the dead.”
Arthas eyes went wide and was about to ask what exactly she meant by that, but she disappeared, and the dream around him shifted, along with his consciousness.
Matthias smiled as he trotted through the meadow full of flowers, alongside Twilight.
 



 
Princess Luna yawned a few hours later as the night court was brought to an end. She actually had three attendants before she went to Arthas’s dream and two after she returned. Much had changed since she returned from her banishment.
“If only Bolt was here...” she thought bitterly as she trotted towards the bedchambers. “... And our little filly...”
She never named her. Neither her or Bolt have ever decided on names, and once she realized that her foal was born dead... she couldn’t think straight, and now... and now it was easier to deal with pain when she didn’t have a name.
 
…Even though it still hurt.
 
Luna finally reached the chambers she’s been seeking, and entered.
“Morning, Tia.” she greeted her sister as she saw Celestia sit on her bed, reading some magazine.
“Hello, Lun... what happened?” the older sister asked, noticing the mood she was in.
Not seeing point in hiding it, Luna said:
“I showed Matthias my past, and he showed me his.”
“... Are you okay?” Celestia had queried, showing her first concern for her sister.
“Yes, I’m fine...” seeing the look Tia gave her, she added: “... as fine as I’ll ever be.”
“And what about Matthias?”
“His past... is more gruesome that I ever imagined. But I still trust him.”
“And what about his chances on becoming evil again?”
“I...” Luna stopped herself before she said that would never happen. Instead, she told her sister: “I trust that he will do anything he can to prevent that.”
“That’s reassuring.” Celestia sighed, and took a better look at Luna. “Little sister...”
“I’m...” the younger alicorn was about to once again brush off her concern, but found that she is unable to do so. Instead, she came over to her to hug her. “Why did they all have to die?” she asked, sobbing.
“Shhhh, little sister, I am still here.” Celestia whispered, and soon, Luna heard her sing familiar lullaby:
 
Don’t you worry about a thing,
Luna, close your eyes.
I’ll be here for you,
‘till the end of time, that’s what I’ll do.
What the years to come may bring,
is a guessing game.
But I’ll always be here,
so don’t you worry about a thing.
 
Despite knowing she would have to get up in about an hour or so to lower the moon, Luna allowed herself to fall asleep.