The voice. The voice was in his mind, directing him. It was overwhelming. Almost as overwhelming as the Hunger. It ate at him, through every pore and every fiber of his new being. New, yes. He was brand new. He knew he had a life before the voice in his mind, before his Master who directed and praised his actions, but it was like a dream, insubstantial as a cloud and just as fleeting in the face of the Endless Hunger.
He trudged along in the wake of the massive war engines, the patchwork creatures made of decaying flesh and blood and bone, the shambling army of undead, and somewhere far ahead, his Master, his King.
That’s just Prince Arthas. A babe. A brat. The traitorous thought was swept away in a tide of Hunger. There was a memory, a dream of another place, a shining city full of humans, far away from the forest they marched through. Closer, an estate in those very woods, where….someone, several someones close to him lived. He wanted for a mad moment to find them, to show them how well they all marched, but the Hunger overrode that mad thought. He knew where they’d be hiding, the secret cellar under the kitchen stairs, the small cavity they hid bloodthistle and their secret books from the Magistry. No. No, they weren’t hiding any longer, the voice assured him. Nothing lived at the estate anymore.
The Endless Hunger was like a living thing within him, his entire body cried out in agony as they marched, and when the gates of Silvermoon City crashed down in the face of the Scourge war machine, he flowed through the wreckage along with everyone else, screaming with the rest.
Chasing a fleeting shadow with a mane of long, dark hair through the streets, past a bakery…
Aegnas woke with a start. For a frenzied moment, he thought the Hunger was upon him for real, as the memory of that dark-haired shape merged with the very real dark-haired beauty asleep on his shoulder. Then the dream began to fade, the pain of the remembered Hunger to ease, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He disentangled himself from Rosefica and grabbed his pants from where he’d tossed them the night before.
He needed coffee after that dream.