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Gravitation	By : neuralmisfit Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 9243 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Gravitation
- 2-Awakening
- 3-Revelations
- 4-Memories
- 5-Skirmish
- 6-Hunger
- 7-Voyage
- 8-Outland
- 9-Maiev
- 10-Hunting
- 11-Trial
- 12-Consummation
- 13-Destruction
- 14-Return
- 9
- 10
- 11
Gravitation
Arcadia-Sama
Summary-
Never mind. You�ll see.
Disclaimer-
Only Shayl is copyright me. I own nothing about WarCraft. Though I do wish I
did own Arthas and Illidan. x3 Anyways! On with the
story!
Suggested BGM
� "Stirb Nicht Vor Mir (Don't Die Before I Do)- Rammstein
"Ande'thoras-Ethil.. brother." - Malfurion
And thank you guys, for the
reviews!

Aranzul
- Oh, believe me when I say that they don't scare me. (chuckles)
I'm rather fond of Tzeentch, personally.

Kaoreii
- (throws you a rope) Well, there will be mindless sex soon enough. But I'm
trying to keep this decent. Ha.

moon_muse
- I know, eh?! And bat boy? I love it! xD

Ashtaar
- Behold, the answers to your questions on how Illidan
has reacted! :3 Hope you like this chapter hun.

Kharo
- Brilliance? My dear, you flatter me!

Yusari
- You said it girlfriend! Men, I swear. What would we do without them, however?
And please, do all the fanart you like!

Orc0909
- Evil chapter? (shifty eyes)
>.> <.< I didn't mean to make it one. And
I'm not that great a writer, honest! I just try making things believable!

toasted neko
- Hee! The latest chapter for you, my dear! :3

Dark
Mystic - Well, someone has to be abused and unfortunately,
for now, it's Kael. Don't worry, he won't be abused forever. Just
until Illidan is made happy, yanno?

Starwolf Magic
- Hahaha, well, I'm getting started on chapter eleven
now! Suppose you can't wait, eh? X3

Author Notes
- Oh, one other thing. Words like this are in Darnassian and words like this
are in the language of Sindassi, which is the language of the
Sin'Dorei, who are the blood elves. And then stuff like � this �
is memories. We all clear? Good. :3

Hey! Furion's
finally making an appearance! WOO! Been waiting to write this up..

Now, on with the show! :D

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Silence remained in the room, the
crackling of the fire the only sound. Then, a protesting squeal of metal was
heard and wine slopped its way across Illidan's hand, falling to stain the
carpet along with several thick drops of amethyst blood, the dark red wine and
purple blood mingling together. Slowly, long fingers were uncurled from the now
misshapen mass of silver that had once been the goblet. The sorcerer rose to
his feet, ignoring Kael as he fell back and then Illidan turned and left the
room, stopping only moments after Kael had spoken, turning to face him with a
vicious scowl that promised pain to the young prince if he did not speak up.

"What was that, Kael?"

The lord of the Sin'Dorei swallowed
quietly before speaking again. "I said.. I said
that we found blood, my lord, leading from Maiev's prison cell to the outer
reaches of the temple. After that, the trail became sporadic. We investigated
the cell of the prisoner and found a crude knife covered in the blood of a
kaldorei. We have detained the prisoner and b-"

The words were choked off for Illidan had
vanished out of the room, his hooves pounding down the staircase all the way to
the cell. The guards had heard the commotion and were already pulling the door open
when their master launched himself at it and forcing the two naga warriors to
scatter to either side; Illidan's glaives appeared in his hands and cut through
the thick wood, the blades sheathed in green flame. Shards of wood exploding
inwards, the sorcerer half-breed landed with a bestial roar of pure, undiluted
fury before the shaken, ashen-faced warriors in the cell. Maiev lifted her head
slowly from where it had been resting against her chest, face battered slightly
and a truly insane smile on her lips as the former jailor saw the almost psychotic
rage twisting Illidan's features. Striding over to her, the massive half-breed
pulled his hand back, the glaive in it vanishing and brought it down, slapping
her powerfully across the face, almost breaking the woman's neck. Yet, Illidan held
himself back from killing the traitorous bitch right then and there- barely.

"What did you do to her?!" the
man roared, glaring down at Maiev, the tattoos wrapping about his upper chest
and arms glowing a brilliant green, blocked only by the pristine white bandages
that still wrapped his body.

Maiev simply smiled again, flashing white
teeth in a grimace before speaking at last, ignoring his anger, knowing that he
wouldn't kill her, despite the swelling in her face that spoke otherwise as a mute
testament to the sorcerer's vile temper. Her jaw hurt as she moved it in the
motions of speaking, knowing that this would likely be the perfect way to
incite him into taking her down, into finishing her
life. She had no use anymore, no purpose, nothing at all like that anymore.

"I stabbed her, you fool," Maiev
rasped out. "Stabbed the bitch so she'd bleed to death, so she wouldn't
ever come and bother me again, stabbed her hard. You know, she came down here,
to me, presumably to tell me to keep my hands off of you. I saw her face,
Illidan. You've hurt her heart for this. Hurt her deeper then she's likely ever
been hurt before. Fool. Can't even see what's right in front of your eyes, now
can you?"

He frowned, she saw, a frown of utter
confusion and the fact that the two were so oblivious to the emotions of the
other in their sick and twisted relationship between the druid and the sorcerer
made Maiev choke down a laugh of inane glee. Leave it to her former toy to
overlook the fact that the girl was in love with him, a love that had bloomed
right under his nose! And if not love, then at least strong affections that had
prompted Shayl into coming to the dungeons and fighting with Maiev over the man
and what he'd done with the Warden. Then, her legs, unrestrained but for simple
ties, jerked and she slammed one knee into his body, causing Illidan to growl
and pull back, his hands releasing her already bruising throat, leaving Maiev
to cough loudly and painfully before speaking past swollen vocal chords.

"I wouldn't hold my breath on her being
ecstatic when you find her, Illidan. No, she just might try something that I
would do and for that sense of emotion itself, I applaud her for it. You
deserve death, you foul traitor!"

Illidan had listened long enough and his
rage and disgust with the Warden was so great that he did nothing more then
turn away from her and march away, hooves clicking heavily against the stone,
cloven things of horn-covered bone leaving behind slight impressions in each
brick, flames licking a trail behind him before dying out in slow, fitful
flickers, as if refusing to light her small cell anymore. The door slammed shut
and the window had been barred, leaving Maiev in utter blackness, chained to
the wall and she heard a heavy thunk as the bar of
wood slammed shut across it. And then Maiev listened hard, hearing Illidan's
words through the wood.

"She is to have no food until I get
back. Spare water, just enough to keep her alive. And when I return, she shall
be placed on trial and executed for her crimes against me as well as against
Shayl."

Then, ignoring the screams of rage that
filled the room behind him, Illidan was gone, striding up the stairs and out of
the Temple, his glaives appearing in flashes of green fire in his hands. Wings
spreading, his legs tensed and then thighs and calves worked in unison as he
thrust himself from the ground, rising into a wavering flight that dipped up
and down through the air, but it was the best he could think of doing. Catching
an updraft that caused swirls of red dust to eddy along the bleak landscape,
Illidan threw himself into searching for Shayl, into trying to find her.

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Draenor had been beautiful, once.

Thickly verdant forests filled mountain
regions while golden plains rippled in waves beneath the sun's watchful eye.
Green was abundant and clear, crystal water filled lakes and streams, singing
merrily as it rolled along, filling the air with sounds that were long vanished
now. It had been a beautiful time and ages of life had woven themselves across
the land.

It was the former home of the orcs, the
unusual nomadic people that had changed and were slowly redeeming themselves
these days under the guidance of their leader, Thrall. How unusual it was to
see these warrior-shamans filling the lands, their prayers to the spirits and
to the world feeding the power of the world itself. In these ancient days, in
the days of honor and peace and simple lifestyles, they had been wonderful
people. But all good things, no matter how steadfast or enduring or eternal,
must always come to an end for the balance of things must always be restored
and the scales will tip to compensate for all things.

For this case, the balance came in the
forms of the warlocks, led by Gul'dan, the first of their kind. He had betrayed
his master to the horrid ministrations of the Eredar warlock Kil'jaeden, had allowed
his people to drink the blood of the demonic Pit Lord named Mannoroth. Under
the manipulations of the orc warlock, the now
blood-minded hordes of orcs rampaged across Draenor, destroying the lush beauty
of the land and causing anguish to the soul inhabiting the beautiful place.

Yet even more misery followed when the
possessed Guardian named Medivh crafted what would be named the Dark Portal.
Using that, Gul'dan unleashed the orc army upon the
unsuspecting people of Azeroth. A long and grueling war took place, wreaking
havoc on all of the inhabitants of the Eastern Kingdoms. But the war only ended
when a powerful wizard named Khadgar destroyed the Dark Portal with the support
of Alliance heroes giving him strength.

The final results of the destruction of
the Portal twisted Draenor into Outland, the land being shattered and brutalized
while the bloodlust of the orcs finally wore itself out in the internment
camps, two different results that none could have predicted at the start of the
Second War. But years of confinement in the camps wore the orcs down until Thrall
came along.

Thrall, son of Durotar of the Frostwolf
Clan, broke free of his bonds of slavery and freed his people. It was he who
brought the orcs to Kalimdor, he who began to teach the ways of the shamans to
his people once more, he who began a tentative alliance with Jaina Proudmoore,
the pair seeking what seemed to be a growing friendship (and perhaps it would
someday become something more).

The land saw the arrival of Magtheridon, the
Pit Lord, twisting one of the few remaining structures to his own personal use
and turning it into what was now known as the Black Citadel. Through the
remaining portals in Outland, daemonic reinforcements poured into the land
daily, their numbers kept in check only because of the size of the portals
which could only let so many through at once.

Then Illidan came to Outland.

Illidan.
A beacon of dark power and great hunger, a man who pursued what he wanted with
a single-minded ambition that burned away all obstacles in his path, a man who turned
his defeats into knowledge. How that man shook the world with his abilities.
Easily, it seemed, he enlisted the aid of the blood elves, nay, the Sin'Dorei,
as well as the Broken Ones, the remnants of the Draenai
who had taken refuge in Draenor before their people had been driven out by the
orcs, butchered at the Black Temple like so many cattle. But Illidan had
changed it all, had brought together the sin'dorei
and the naga, had taken in Akama's broken people and given them form and
purpose once again.

Illidan had left to return to the Other
World and had gone to Northrend where he had been broken and cast down by Arthas,
Shayl being whisked to him by Kael's machinations in an effort to heal his
master. And then they'd returned to Outland and Shayl had been a breath of
fresh air in the stagnating realm of the once noble and beautiful land.
Everywhere she went, new life glistened in the soils and the land leapt eagerly
to listen to her words, to comply with her gentle requests, to be part of
something whole once again. For within her, Shayl bore a great power and a
sense of a purpose that had yet to be fulfilled. And now the land sheltered
this girl, cradling her as she sought protection in its embrace.

But something was coming..

Him.. The one who
claimed her..

Illidan..

It was with a simple moan of sound that Shayl stirred back to full
awareness, head fuzzy from the immersion of memories of the land, memories that
sloughed off her mind like water. It was an unusual ability to say the least and
one rarely used, but such an odd technique gave her information of what she
wished to know. And this time, the land had warned her of the approach of the
one person she had been running from. The man who had taken her simple life and
turned it upside down with the simple fact of her being charged with his healthcare
by one of his lieutenants, the man who had started to steal away something
precious of hers, something that she could never get back.

The large druid-turned-night saber stirred, long fangs jutting past
sleek lower jaw and she would arch her back slightly before pushing up onto all
four paws, her stance shaky. Once again, the wound was pulled open and Shayl
began to bleed, purple blood oozing slowly from the wound that refused to close
because of Shayl's constant motion away from the place that housed Illidan. But
exhaustion weighed heavily upon the transformed druid and she had been losing
blood at a slow, but constant rate over the last few hours as she kept pushing
onwards. Her last bout of unconsciousness had not occurred by choice and Shayl
would have remained still long enough for the wound to shut, but with that man
searching for her (or so the land had seemed to imply for its abuse had broken
the spirits in ways that would be slow to mend), the druid knew that she could
not remain there.

So it was that Shayl displayed the grueling determination of her people
with that simple act, forcing herself to put one paw before the other wearily.
Even though she was blind, the feline-shaped woman kept to as much cover as she
could in this blasted, broken area. Despite such measures (and her head
cracking into stone more then once, despite the druid's ability to normally
avoid such obstacles), her blood kept marking her trail. Shayl didn't know that
it was a plain beacon to the one hunting for her now and she could feel
Illidan. He was distant to be sure and she knew that she shouldn't have been
able to feel him, but she could. At last, the feline stumbled into a cave, a
small dry cavern that would hopefully keep her hidden from that man and curled
up against the wall, shaking as exhaustion pummeled her into slow submission.

Above the ground, however, Illidan swooped along, his gaze focused upon
the diminishing sheen of the greenish tint to the trail of purple blood that
decorated the ground. Even as he paused and hovered in one spot, he saw the
ground and the land soaking up that green glow, each pool of radiant light
fanning outwards and seeming to breathe new life into the environment. But he
couldn't stay and marvel over such things. Shoulders flexed slightly and the
muscles in his wings grew tight before flexing and propelling him onwards, the sorcerer
angling downwards as the trail led him to a rockier area and then it seemed to
vanish.

But she was close. He could feel her presence. He could taste her. But
the truest sign was the stirring of the daemon within his soul, the bestial
presence awakening itself without any prompting from Illidan. The daemon had
pulled back from his bout of anger earlier, not trusting itself to keep Maiev
alive until they brought Shayl back. And they would bring her back, no
matter what happened. Both Illidan and the daemon were of a single mind about
that. Spiraling downwards in a tight circle, Illidan slowly settled onto the
ground before striding along, wings tucking loosely against his back as his
jaws worked, glaives once again gone from his grasp. A handy technique that
spell he'd learned was, allowing him to summon and dismiss his weapons as he
saw fit.

His head lifted and he inhaled at the air, sucking in the smell of old,
barren dust, of stagnating air.. and
blood. His tongue emerged for a moment, touching to each lip in the mere
affections of memory. The daemon growled, a similar
sound escaping Illidan's throat moments later as his anger with Maiev was
stirred up again. This close to the bloodscent and
Shayl's own smell, he didn't even bother looking at the ground. Instead, he
bounded from spot to spot before settling down and turning his head from side
to side. Wings twitching with impatience, Illidan moved on again until he
sensed rather then saw the cave. Here, the bloodsmell
and her smell were strongest. This is where she was!

"Shayl!"

Illidan moved into the cave, having to hunch to accommodate his massive
form in such a smaller space. Seeing the night saber curled up against the back
cave wall, he moved towards her with a swiftness borne of desperation. She had
to be alright, let her be alright, let her be alive still and fine (or as fine
as one could be after getting stabbed), let her know he was there. His mind
swirled with thoughts and emotions that tumbled and tripped over one another,
conflicting feelings acting much like puppies with an old rag sock, shaking it
back and forth. How could he both loathe and need this woman at once? How was
it that she made him feel the way he did? Perhaps it would be better if she did
die! But no, the mere thought of that made him go cold inside and his breath
hitched as he ran his fingers over her fur, finding the open wound in her side
before Illidan hauled the unconscious druid into his arms gently, shivering
with emotions that he didn't dare to study closely. Illidan worked now, his
fingers pressing to her wound, green fire searing it shut, cauterizing the
flesh with ease and hopefully leaving his druid with her powers untouched,
untainted for he'd used arcane magicks with that simple gesture, magicks that
could possibly destroy what she represented!

You can't die,
Shayl! I won't let you die, fool woman! I need you! At that last thought,
his breath seized in his lungs and Illidan bowed his head, pulling the large
cat even more firmly against him. .. Yes.. I need
you. You are the only one who can fix my body, woman! And if you die and leave
me behind.. I will not let you do that! Not ever! You
are mine, druid and such a thing like this
wound will not keep you from me!

The gentle thrum of a pulse stirred the beast, her elongated ears
twitching slightly. Arms were wrapped around her form and she simply rested her
large head where it had fallen, resting blocky snout and head against the soft
linen of his bandages and the hard muscle beneath the covering. Tail twitched
slightly and Shayl let out a small sigh, finding she was enjoying this. Oh, she
knew who was holding her for his scent was obvious. But so was the smell of the
Warden whose vile odor remained upon his flesh despite Illidan having washed
himself earlier. And the smell incited a simmering resentment deep within her
being.

How dare he come to her, still smelling of that woman? How DARE
he do such a thing? The only warning she gave Illidan was a low rumble of a
growl before she threw herself against him, quite easily considering that he was
holding her. Claws emerged from forepaws, those alone about twelve inches
across, five long curling scythes of pearly coloration measuring in at four
inches in length; one paw slapped across Illidan's face and making his head
spin, the other ripping into his chest as she snarled and went for his throat
with her fangs. She felt his hands grabbing her muzzle, the ends of each long
fang drawing a shallow set of twin gashes across the thick muscles in his
throat, the woman going for his jugular with no sense of remorse. Illidan made
no moves to stop her, just as her movements had ceased. It was a stalemate for
he could snap her neck in an instant with his grasp.. but Shayl could also rend his flesh with a mortal wound
before he could stop her.

"Shayl.." came Illidan's voice,
softened for once as he sought to reach past her anger, past the form pinning
him down with such graceful power. "Shayl..
Don't. I was.. wrong.. to do what I did. Don't do this, Shayl. I came to find you,
did I not? I came for-"

The figure atop him shifted before the shape rippled. Fur receded into
flesh, claws became fingers and the thick earthy scent of her touched his
nostrils. Now her hands touched him, now he felt her skin against his and
Illidan was suddenly aware that the druid was lacking in clothing. Such an
impromptu observation could only lead to disaster for him. But he still made no
move to touch her yet, waiting to see what she would do. And Shayl knelt there
on his chest, teeth exposed as her lips pulled back, white chips of bone flashing
in the dim lighting of the small cave as she spoke, blind eyes blazing with the
full force of her fury.

"Wrong? Wrong?! I'll tell you what's wrong, Illidan! You think
that your coming to find me will endear you to me?! Are you so hard-pressed for
relief with a woman that you just take whatever whore is convenient? Nay,
Illidan, you will not have any affection from me! The only thing that I will do
is heal your wounds and once they are all gone, I will leave to return to my
home! You are a fool if you think that you can come to me again after sleeping
with that vile bitch!" she shouted at him, eyes narrowed in a glare.

Illidan let out a low growl at her words.. and then he felt her hands going for his throat, nails
preparing to rip into his throat. His own grip caught her by the wrists and his
body twisted beneath hers and Shayl suddenly found herself on her back. Kicking
at Illidan with her legs proved futile for the larger male simply draped
himself across her body, his growl matching her own snarl as he forced her arms
over her head. He hovered over her, breaths mingling and tension crackled in
the air for Illidan couldn't help but notice the heaving of her chest, nor
could he ignore the feeling of her body against his.

"You are mine, woman, whether you want to believe it or not! Maiev
is nothing to me, nothing more then a simple diversion! It is you who drives me
insane with need every night and day; it is you who is lodged within my
thoughts and feelings! You are driving me insane, Shayl and such torments will
not cease until I have you!"

Then, before she could say anything more, Shayl was being kissed by
him, his mouth closing over her own, lips slanting firmly together. The daemon
within his soul roared with pleasure at her taste and then came the sibilant
hisses of how he should mark her again, just to reinstate the fact that she
belonged to the one crouched over her now. Illidan kissed his druid with a
passion born of hunger and utterly terrible loneliness. Why did she make him
feel alive again? How was it that this fool woman was able to arouse him to
such a degree that he felt driven to take her whenever the whim occurred to
him, even without touching her? What about her made it possible? Was it her
damnable innocence that he wanted to strip away, her body which was, while not
sleek and athletic, pleasing in its softness, that luxurious and unusual mane
of hair that now spilled about her body as she laid beneath him?

The druid drove him to the heights of insanity and craving and Illidan
knew that peace would come only when his lust was slaked. Not even that brief sojourn
with Maiev had purged the want, the need for his healer from his body. Instead,
he'd felt emptier afterwards instead of the usual hateful delight that he had
once shared with the Warden. But when he touched Shayl, Illidan felt life seep
into him. He felt calm about her as the daemon too was both calmed and excited
by her mere presence. None would touch her for he had marked her with his kiss,
his bite, the thick scar on Shayl's neck announcing who
she belonged to as did the scent surrounding her.

Illidan held the kiss, his fingers wrapping about her wrists still as
his tongue plundered her mouth. His surprise knew no bounds when he found her
kissing back and a deep snarling growl erupted in the back of the hybrid's
throat as his body reacted. Slowly, ever so slowly, Illidan allowed his fingers
to loosen their grip on her arms and he felt those long slender limbs wrapping
about his neck. Both hands skimmed down her sides, coming to clasp Shayl's
hips. Continuing to devour her mouth with his, he pulled her up against him,
thrusting his hips against hers and he relished in the gasp she gave as his
hidden erection rubbed slowly across those butter-soft folds between her legs. Then,
breaking the kiss, he spoke, head lowering to nuzzle into her neck.

"There is no turning back now, woman. I am going to make you mine
and unless you truly do not wish to have this, I will not stop. You belong to
me, druid, and I plan to make sure that you have your chance to inflict on
Maiev what she did to you. I would have killed her, if not for the desire of
wanting you to have a chance to testify against her. As well as letting you
give what she gave you."

Shayl "looked" up at him and her fingers moved, stroking the
harshly carved lines of his face, stroking along his jaw and she seemed to
study him. Then, long fingers touched the wounds on his face where she had
slapped him with her paw, having kept her claws mostly retracted. But she could
tell by the touches alone that if she did not heal them, then he would bear the
scars for the rest of his days. With a small sigh, she pressed her fingers to
the shallow gashes and healed them with a simple spell, noticing only now as
she did so that her own wound was healed. He must have noticed her murmur of
surprise for she could sense his smile. Illidan had healed her wound? How
unusual. Then, with another sigh, the druid spoke at last, her own voice low.

"I see. If that is the case, then.. very well, Illidan. I am still angry with you, but I cannot
deny you, as much as I wish that I could! I cannot.. deny.. that I want you. Oh goddess.. Illidan, what have you done to me..?" she moaned low
in her throat before her fingers plunged into the thick navy locks of hair upon
his head and she dragged his head down to hers again, sensing his surprise at
her motion.

The two were entwined together, the large sorcerer and the smaller
druid kissing and finding a strange and wondrous comfort in one another's arms.
As it was, they did not sense the presence of one who had come to this land for
the world he had left behind had told this one of the loss of its daughter, a
beautiful, wonderful girl who was strong as he in the magicks of the earth and
living world. In this land, she was a bright shining beacon, easily found
despite the horrid lifeless nature of the land or perhaps it was because of
that he was able to find her with such ease. And it was to this cave that he
was drawn and here that he stopped, staring in horror at the sight before him.

Malfurion Stormrage sought for words as he saw the young woman beneath
his twin, her pale limbs contrasting with the light grayish-purple of the
sorcerer's body, their mouths held together with an intensity of emotion that
he felt he had lost long ago. But seeing this here and now, his brother
obviously seducing some poor na�ve girl that he abducted, was simply a matter
that brought the arch-druid's ire to life once more. With a roar, he slammed
the end of his staff into the ground, cracks radiating outwards from where it
connected with the floor of the cavern. Green energy flowed about the druid,
filling the cavern with a renewed sense of life.

He saw his brother jerk around, wings flaring wide as he crouched there
as the marks that Illidan had received from Sargeras erupted into bright neon
green symbols along both arms and slithering across Illidan's torso. The girl
that Malfurion could only name as a druid was shrieking and covering herself,
legs drawn towards her stomach while arms settled across her chest, hiding the
mounds of her breasts from his eyesight. The larger twin rose to his hooves and
the arch druid kept his gaze upright, doing his best to ignore the sight of his
twin's body on such display. Cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment, the
brothers both spoke at once, words clashing in the air.

"Malfurion! What are you doing here-?!"

"Illidan, what are you doing to her-?!"

The two ceased speaking in a moment as their questions were conflicting
and yet ironically so alike. They were mirrors of one another, Malfurion being
the pinnacle of druidic power and Illidan his darker shadow, master of the
arcane sorceries that had torn them apart and had almost destroyed the world.
The tension rippled in the air between each brother, Malfurion having to look
up at Illidan. They didn't have to do that once, looking up and down at one
another these days. At last, the green-maned twin drew himself upright, his
voice somber and deep as he addressed them both, eyes moving briefly to the
bandages wrapping Illidan's figure and the shredded flesh that still laid in an
unhealed manner across the torso of his now hybrid twin.

"I have come to take her home with me, Illidan! This daughter of
the earth does not belong here!"
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