Chapter Text
Protected by the cliffs separating the Vale of Eternal Blossoms and the Valley of Four Winds, there was an old village, built a little after the continent had been covered in the Mists meant to hide their existence from the enemy coming from another world. There, the villagers were living with only one objective in their lives: honoring the Elements and their Lords. The founders of that village had studied shamanism under a powerful shaman who had served directly under the Elemental Lords, and as they discovered a new way to work their art, they decided to honor her as well. As what would be known as "The War of the Ancient" began, she heard the call of her Lords and accepted to leave Pandaria to fight the demons and be the shield for the Lords.
That day, her followers and students were split in two. The fighters who joined her as they walked to the mainland of Kalimdor, and those who stayed to keep teaching her way of shamanism. They would end up creating a clan in her name, and soon enough, a unique house became the foundation for an entire village. For the years that followed that split, those who stayed behind impatiently waited for her return — that she had promised — but soon enough, over ten thousand years happened. Their descendants were still revering that founder, and one of the common jokes that started after Pandaria joined back the world of Azeroth was that one of their young adventurers would be able to find her.
And one day, she really came back.
It was a little after the defeat of the Old God N'zoth. One of their own villagers — a young man called Thahune — had left them to explore Azeroth once Pandaria had been freed from the misdeeds of Garrosh Hellscream, helping in the fights against the threats looming over Azeroth. Following the teaching of his clans, he bravely fought as a Warrior and made sure to honor the elements at every step he was making. Unfortunately for him, as they went down the sea to fight Queen Azshara, he fell into an ambush, and with one last prayer for the elements to welcome him at the side of their mortal Lord, he died.
For what seemed an eternity to him, he discovered a terrifying place. With its dull color of red and brown; ominous dark buildings scattered everywhere; a river made out of souls just like him. There were some weird people that he never saw before on Azeroth, floating around and using some kind of death magic to torture and use the souls to their liking. Winged beings, capturing anyone trying to flee that place. What seemed to be eyes, always attentive and making sure that nothing was going wrong in that place. He could still remember the pain and fear. It wasn't what he had expected for his afterlife, but no matter how much he begged the elements to save him, nothing was happening. And that place just kept being flooded with more and more souls as time went on.
Suddenly, he felt his soul being pulled from that place. Before he knew it, he was taking a really deep breath and the starry sky of the Icecrown Citadel welcomed him back to Azeroth. In front of him, there was Bolvar Fordragon and his friends from the Horde — survivors of the ambush that saw his demise. They explained to him that the new Lich King had thrown an announcement all over Azeroth, telling them that as an Old God was going to threaten them once more, they were going to need more fighters and, that the fallen of the Fourth War were lost in the stupidity of that conflict. Because of it, Bolvar told them to bring to him any fallen that they could, and they would be raised as Death Knights to take back the fight — or get a second chance after an unfair death. It was why Thahune had been saved from what they would learn to be the Maw.
With that second chance, he decided to take back the fight and keep protecting Azeroth. First of all, he went back to his village even if he was fearing to be ostracized by his own because of the undeath. Of course, he was believing that as he hadn't forsaken the elements even in his deepest despair, he would still have a place to call home there. He was right. His family and clan welcomed him with celebration. Most of them took it as a sign of fate. After all, he had been named after the Frost Lord, and now that he was bending frost to his will to fight, it seemed the natural course of life. Happy to know that he would always have a place on that planet, he went back to the fight against the Old God, even if he didn't take part in the raid that went into the cursed realm of Ny'alotha.
Right after the victory of their own, the celebrations swept through Azeroth and he enjoyed them. Then, as he was partying in an inn, it was where he found her.
He immediately noticed her. She was the only other pandaren in that inn, sitting in a corner and away from the celebration as her only eye — the other one was covered by an eyepatch — was emptily staring at the table in front of her. The bartender — an orc Death Knight — was often joining her and talking to her, giving her drinks and food as they seemed to know each other. But what really caught his eye was her right arm. The fur had been replaced by rocks, and it was as if the limb wasn't made of flesh anymore. She also had some spots of fur that had seemingly burnt off. Thahune just felt that she was a Shaman, and his upbringing pushed him to start the conversation with her — although he was far from guessing who she really was.
He approached her and tried to engage in the conversation.
"Hello," he began with a smile.
"Hello," she replied, looking at him.
As he got to see her face more clearly, he couldn't stop himself from wincing. He knew that expression as he had seen many soldiers and civilians wearing that face after a loved one died. In a way, he was understanding better why she wasn't merrily joining the party, and he decided to use a little trick that was quite effective in their village when they wanted to cheer up someone. It was simply to start talking about the elements and the Lords. As he could guess that she was a Shaman, there was no reason that the trick wouldn't work.
"Your arm looks cool," he pointed out, showing it.
He wouldn't have minded changing his own arm into some cool-looking ice limb, but he needed more training before doing so.
"Oh… Thanks."
Her voice was low. Some twitches over her face told him that some bad memories were associated with that arm, so he quickly went for a broader subject.
"I guess that you are a Shaman?"
A sad smile replied to him at first, then she spoke.
"I am."
Even if he didn't want to pass as some kind of elemental nerd, he still decided that it was time to use the traditional greeting of his village. In a way, he wanted to show that unknown pandaren that they had some common ground even if he was just a Death Knight.
"That's nice! My name's Thahune, by the way. I've been named after the Elemental Lords Therazane and Ahune."
A skeptical snort came from her. Thahune could only wonder what it means, while doing his best to not look offended. In his clan, the tradition was to name everyone after Elemental Lords, usually, two, to bless the baby and offer him a way of living. Everyone in his village was proud of their name and of their association with the Lords. His parents named him after the Stonemother to ground him within his home, knowing that he would always come back to the village, and after the Frost Lord when they saw his bright white fur after his birth. Being named after him meant that the parents were hoping for their child to be a strong protector of the people who needed it. Which he had done as he kept honoring his village and always made sure to protect them, then Azeroth as the years went by.
He was going to ask why she had such a reaction, although he was already guessing that she was probably associating Ahune as some kind of enemy to defeat and that he shouldn't wear its name like that. But no one in the village cared about that, as they had been taught that every Lord had their reason for the behavior, and that as mortals, they weren't the ones who could judge them for it. If an Elemental Lord was doing something, it was always for the best of the Elements, and they could only follow through. But before he could ask, she replied with her own name.
"I am Ral'thelon. Named after the Elemental Lords Ragnaros, Al'akir, Therazane and Neptulon."
Thahune stopped moving as the words made their way to his brain. It sounded impossible. He knew that only his village had the tradition of naming their members after the Lords, and there had been a strict rule of never using all four names of the Lords of the Elemental Lords to name a newborn. And especially not in that order, because it belonged to their founder. Her, who left to defend their world so long ago. He knew that name. Too well. It was the name they were always saying with the most reverence — right after the Elemental Lords — and as he stood in front of her, he realized that the possibility of that random pandaren being the most important person in the world for his village was really high. He just sat in front of her, unsure of what to say.
"Ral-Ral'thelon? Like…er… that Shaman from before the War of the Ancient?"
He didn't want to assume that it was her — after all, how could a regular pandaren survive for over ten thousand years?! — but deep down, he wanted to believe.
"Oh? You know that name?"
"Yes! My village wouldn't have existed without her." As he spoke, he realized that the real Ral'thelon wouldn't have known about the village as it had been created after her departure. "It was built by those of her clan that stayed in the Valley of Four Winds. We still live the way she taught us and honor the elements every day that we are alive."
His voice was rising with enthusiasm, and a sad but surprised smile grew on her face.
"We are also honoring her because she showed us the way to share our lives with the elements in harmony, and we think of her as equal to the Lords and -"
"How dare you?!" she burst out suddenly. "A mortal?! A weak creature made out of flesh?! Equal to the Lords?! This is just blasphemy and you should never say something like that! If you really honor them, respect them, and don't think that we could ever be their equal!"
She sat back on her chair, glaring at the Death Knight, and whispered to herself some more words, in a language that was far from being known by most of the mortals.
"Om'tirkol vand'oro dor'dra'tor."
"I'm sorry to look pathetic to you," he replied as her eyes opened wide, realizing that he understood her. "When I say equal, it is not in terms of power or anything. Just that her influence on us had been similar to the influence the Elemental Lords had on her. She lived her life serving them and teaching us to rever them, so we will live our lives doing the same. Ko tomo"
"How do you know Kalimag?"
"We teach it to communicate better with the elements. And because we have some stories from our founders that we tend to tell when we have celebrations. One of them is how they had to learn Kalimag to discuss with her, until she had been able to learn Pandaren, and that she was reverting a lot to her first language. So we learn the basis in your honor."
"Why did you just say "your"?"
At that moment, Thahune realized the slip of his tongue.
"I'm sorry, but even if it sounds impossible as more than ten thousand years happened, I just can't shake out of my head that you are her. The original Ral'thelon. Our Lord."
"It could just be a coincidence. I could have stolen the name."
"I refuse to believe it. A pandaren Shaman, fluent in Kalimag and who didn't hesitate to defend the Elemental Lords… And who had been able to give me the right order of the Lords' names. I don't know how it is that you are still alive, but meeting you is the biggest honor I'll ever have in my life."
With those words, he bowed until his head touched the table. He heard her sigh, and she got up from her chair. As soon as she began to get away, a voice caught her as the bartender grabbed her attention.
"Oh, Ral! If you need a room for the night, just take one. It's on the house."
"Thanks, Alance, but -"
"How dare you speak so lightly with her?!" Thahune intervened. "Not even using her full name?!"
The orc glared at him. He walked to him and stood proud in front of him as his piercing blue eyes — proof of him being a Death Knight as well — scanned the pandaren and he shook his head.
"Respect your elders! You just met her and you think you know better than me? Leave her alone or I'll make you run back in Bolvar's skirt, crying!"
"Alance. Calm down," Ral'thelon said to her friend. "I'll handle it. It's alright. And what I wanted to say is that I have to check on him, so thanks for the offer, but I won't stay for the night."
The orc nodded with an understanding smile and wished her a good trip. Then, without caring about the ongoing celebration going on, she left the inn and Thahune was on her heels as he had the feeling that if he was losing sight of her, he would never see her again. No one in his village would also believe him if he couldn't show some proof that he had really met with her.
As soon as they stepped out, she stared at him and sighed a little louder with a shake of her head.
"I need to leave. Enjoy the celebration if you want to, but this isn't for me."
Instantly, she walked toward the closest water source that she could find, but Thahune quickly stopped her by grabbing her arms.
"Please. I know that you are Lord Ral'thelon. You need to see the village! You will love it!"
"I'm sorry but I am expected somewhere else." She unintentionally grabbed her arm made out of rocks as she looked away. "And anyway, I am not the person you think I am. Yes, my name is Ral'thelon and I have been named after the four original Elemental lords. Yes, I am a Shaman and I know Kalimag. Maybe I am older than I look… But I am not a leader or anyone worth following. There's only death for the people that will trust me and I just can't save them."
She closed her eye and flashes went through her mind. The pandarens that followed her into the War of the Ancients, dying one by one at the hand of the demons. Her Demon Hunter, stabbed in the chest with his own blade as he is standing in front of her. Every time she tried to fight loneliness, it resulted in the death of those who had the mistake of crossing her path. It was better if she was staying alone.
"I'm already dead," Thahune replied as he pulled on her arm to grab her attention. "I'm not risking anything, and, to be honest, it will just be a visit. Just come to see the village, and give us your approval."
Even after the Mists were removed and allowing Pandaria to come back within Azeroth, she had made sure to avoid the Valley of Four Winds as it brought back too many memories. Of course, after all those millennials, there was no reason that anyone would recognize her and accuse her of taking the lives of their relatives, but she still made sure to not go there. She wasn't sure she wanted to see that village, but a part of herself was dying with curiosity. Would they really be able to follow through with her life philosophy? Or were they just pretending to, and that after all those years, her teachings had been deformed by each new generation? Not that she would try to adjust it if it was the case — she really didn't want to lead people again — but at worst, she could pretend to be a descendant from one of those pandarens who left for the north…
"Only if it's quick. I have an important matter to attend to."
"Do not worry, we'll understand if the Lords call you back."
Taking out a Hearthstone, Thahune held her hand and began to use the teleportation spell embedded within the stone. Ral threw one last look at the water source as she hoped that there would be one near the village.