They're all dead.
The Scourge, the Demons, and the foolish Humans who served them. Who now will say they made us slaves? Who now will say they burned our world? And who now will call us evil monsters?
There are none left. We killed them all.
I lean back on the low stone wall. I shift so my bow isn't sandwiched between the wall and my back. My cold white hands clutch the top of the barrier. The green liquid in the canals behind me bubbles and spits. I look around me, and marvel at what we've built together.
The Undercity. It's huge. It's complicated and it's wondrous. The living would be terrified to tread here. Good. They don't belong. It's all ours. The gunk running through our rivers would poison them, but to me it's beautiful. Such a sharp green. I can hear the rats running around in the markets, pick up each individual voice and see everything sharply. Nothing evades notice. Nothing hides from this boy's senses.
They've been getting better and better since the Dark Lady freed me. Every day I can see a little bit further, hear that bit more accurately. I wonder how good they'll get. I've never felt so powerful. Never so... alive.
I allow the hubbub of the city to relax me. I used to hate the squabble of daily life, but now something is very different. I belong here. I know these people and I am a part of this city. I would be missed if I was gone. The people who defend it defend it because of me and countless others like me. I can tell you everything about Mary the mage, who I see to the left, sitting on the bridge as she goes through the magic she was telling me about yesterday again. I know the librarian down ahead of me, in his alcove. I've bought arrows from the fletcher across the river from my perch. And all of this matters to me. It seems so useless, but I suppose relevance does not equal importance. I finally have a place to be.
I've even made friends. It seems impossible, but stranger things have happened. Sometimes right in front of my skeptical yellow eyes. I've learned to trust what they tell me. Here in this wondrous metropolis, I've found a home and a life. No, not found. Made. Me and my Forsaken brethren made this place. That makes it all the better, to me.
I feel a bit sorry for my people. They lost so much more than me. Most of them had lives they enjoyed and people they cared about. They had things that they could lose. Not me. Undeath is a blessing now. Some of these people have allowed decay to take them, but I'd rather not feel maggots digging into my innards, so I pay a visit to the priest once a week and his shadowy power keeps me together.
But then there are the humans in the south. My knuckles tighten on the stone and my teeth clench as I remember them. I find it disgusting that they are allowed to exist, going about their lives- just like the people I loathed when I was alive -while my Forsaken brothers and sisters must suffer daily. And they dare to mock us. Somebody must make them pay. I think it'll be me.
I calm myself and smile as I think for the millionth time about all that Lady Sylvanas has given to us. She gave us a home and a new family and a purpose. But she also gave us all a gift of our very own. It's different for every Forsaken.
Some call it safety.
I just call it happiness.