Before the Storm by Christie Golden

Author:Christie Golden
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2018-06-12T00:00:00+00:00

Vellcinda didn’t miss sleep.

She had not realized until after her death just how much time had been wasted with her eyes closed and her body still. There was an old saying, “Plenty of time for sleep in the grave,” but she had found the reality to be exactly the opposite. She’d slept far too much when she lived: an entire third of that life, how remarkable. Now that she was a Forsaken, she had done all she could to make the most of what she, with what remained of the incorrigible optimism she’d had in life, firmly viewed as a second chance.

She’d been a servant when she died. So of course, when Vellcinda “awoke” as a Forsaken, the first thing she did, as her mind gradually became accustomed to her new reality, was serve. It was what she knew best. She’d been kind and patient with those who had awoken terrified and disoriented and had helped to rebury those who had refused Lady Sylvanas’s dark gift.

Part of her understood the refusal. Who among them hadn’t been confused and frightened to awaken to the sight of their own skin decaying? No one with half a brain left, that was who. And of course, some of the poor things didn’t have even half a brain.

Vellcinda seemed to have been one of the fortunate ones who’d awoken with their minds completely intact, thank you very much, and had firmly resolved to put it to good use.

She missed her husband, and upon awakening, she had wanted to seek him out. He had been in Stormwind, and Vellcinda had been in Lordaeron, visiting family, when she died. She had been in the castle when Arthas had returned. She’d hoped to catch a glimpse of the beloved paladin and his triumphant homecoming but had been stuck working in the kitchens as he marched through a rain of rose petals into the throne room. But she had been well within range of what unfolded immediately after Arthas committed both patricide and regicide with one thrust of an unhallowed sword.

Her beloved had been spared that, and she was glad of it. Others told her that attempts to contact him would only lead to heartbreak for them both. He believed her dead, and in the end, Vellcinda had decided that it was better that way. He was a good, kind man. He deserved to find a living woman to love.

Many other Forsaken, such as her friend and fellow Governor Parqual, seemed to miss their loved ones as much as she did. Others seemed lukewarm, and still others didn’t care at all. Some were even…evil. What had happened, to her, to them, to have such differing personalities and mind-sets? It was one of the mysteries about being Forsaken.

She had no memory of her time as a mindless creature, and that was a good thing.

As the years unfolded, though, Vellcinda grew tired of serving. But her brain was almost as sharp as it had ever been, and Vellcinda began to want to learn, to achieve, rather than simply do for others.

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