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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
- 13
- 14
Gravitation
Arcadia-Sama
Summary- Never mind. You�ll see.
Disclaimer- Shayl and the dreadlords in here belong to me. Everything
else belongs to Blizzard.
Suggested BGM � "Click Click Boom"- Saliva

"Your will is not your own." � The
Lich King

Now, on with the show! =D

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��My lord?�

There
seemed to be no reaction from the figure on the throne to the words that filled
the air and for a second, the owner of the voice even thought he was asleep.
But there was a glimmer of faint, flickering flames behind the cloth that was
wrapped over the man�s eyes, or at least what passed for them. Shadows cloaked
the area about the throne, despite the torches that flickered nearby and not
even the sound of breathing could be heard as the man didn�t seem to notice the
speaker. Slowly, bare feet moved up towards the throne and a gentle hand
reached out to touch him and it was then that Illidan lifted his head, looking
up at the woman standing over him.

It
wasn�t real. That�s what he had to keep telling himself. That this wasn�t real;
after all, reality was only a tenuous thing for the man and his grasp on it
slipped more and more every day. But oh how he wanted for it to be.

But
there was a touch of a hand to his face, stroking his features with a gentle
fashion and Illidan sighed, lifting one hand to cover those long fingers,
letting his palm press hers to his face as he exerted pressure on the back of
her hand. Malevolence hummed suddenly in the air, coming from the great hybrid
on his dark throne and then suddenly, he was looking upwards at the figure that
stood over him and with a snarl, Illidan reached up, his hand coming to cover
the face of the one he longed to see the most but this was not her! And then
his fingers contorted inwards, punching through Shayl�s face before suddenly,
the illusion was dissipating, revealing a hissing, snarling succubus and
Illidan rose to his feet, speaking now.

�This
is the fifth time in as many days that you have done this, Lxyira, and you knew
what the consequences of your actions would be! Here is a warning then, to you
and all others like you who would do the same!�

It
was a simple thing for him to seize her by her face, his fingers curling over
the unnaturally perfect features, his nails digging into her scalp as he began
to squeeze her head in his grasp, exerting an excruciating amount of pain upon
the skull of the succubus, nearly to the point of crushing it even as the
daemon cried out. But that wasn't all. Magic began to flow into Illidan, slowly
at first and then suddenly faster as he fed, the addict's smile of relief from
the pain rolling across his lips and his devouring of her magic continued until
he'd nearly drained all of it away, leaving the succubus' body weak and flimsy,
ignoring the now slack flesh of her curves. Even Lxyira's hair had been
changed, no longer a lustrous black but gray and white, as if she'd aged in the
same manner a human would. It was a simple matter for Illidan to thrust her
away, ignoring her as she hit the floor and he returned to his previous posture
of being seated.

The
throne room had gone silent during the fast-paced exchange, the entire ordeal
lasting no more then three minutes, if that and then the flow of conversation
resumed yet again, the owners of the voices cutting their stares towards their
decidedly insane leader but no one said anything truly overt for while he may
have been insane, he was still their lord and master and as such, they owed him
their fealty in ways that only they understood. The Illidari were sworn to
their lord and they had sworn out of fear, out of loyalty, out of devotion for
him. But then, they had sworn as well because Illidan had promised to deliver
the blood elves what they needed, what they wanted. An end to their hunger, an
end to the gnawing ache that their addiction caused their race thanks to their
constant use of magic over the centuries of their lives.

On
the throne, Illidan fell once more, screaming as he did so, but the sound was
kept confined to the remains of his soul. Down, down, down he fell, darkness
and danger swallowing him whole, leaving him wanting. Or was it something else
that was wanting? He wasn't sure. He never was sure these days and he knew; oh,
only he knew that he was right, that he had done everything pure and right.
Arthas had fallen at his hands; he had made sure of it. The bastard prince, the
damned prince, the undead leader had fallen to Illidan's claws. It had happened
that way, he knew, he could remember how it had happened, how he had laughed at
seeing Arthas's blood spilling out across the snows that coated the crown of
Northrend's glaciers and snow banks.

Once
more he saw the fight, the pulsation of blood in his ears, the clash and scrape
of metal against metal as Illidan fought with the Twinblades of Azzinoth,
Arthas wielding Frostmourne. Once more, Illidan was locked in lethal combat
with Arthas, his fingers flexing about the arms of the throne he sat on, thorny
wings scraping across the floor as his his hooves shifted and he saw his own
blades come forward, hewing through the death knight's armor like a hot knife
through butter. Then why did his chest ache? Then why did he bear a scar that
could only have come from a sword? His fingers were slowly prized from one of
the chair's arms and lifted to the sinewy rope of scar tissue that rode across
his stomach from left shoulder to right hip and once more, he smelled earth and
herbs and feminine sweetness, once again he saw the flash of pale lavender skin
and beautiful hair that was dark at the roots and light at the tips and bright
amber eyes that glowed brilliantly in anger and passion and a warmth that had
slowly eased the iciness about his heart.

Shayl�

The thoughts of the druid came to him, unbidden, unwanted. The
smell of her hair, the feel of her skin beneath his fingers, the expression on
her face as she lost herself within the throes of ecstasy beneath him, even as
he devoured her mouth with greedy kisses. His fingers shifted across his scar
once more, nails dragging over the line of broken flesh that had never healed
properly despite the best efforts of the priests. Indeed, it had healed, he
imagined, only because it had been given enough time to do so. But his mind
turned back to thoughts of Shayl, feeling again all those emotions that he
wished he didn't.

She had done this! She, that damnable wench! His rage came upon
him then and he roared as he thrust himself up from his throne once again, his
retainers and sycophants scattering like puff seeds in the wind, leaving the
enraged hybrid on his own. His blades flamed to life and Illidan turned his
fury on the surroundings of the room. Blades wreathed in green flame slashed
and stabbed at silken fabric, the weapons crashing down onto the throne and
splintering it into large pieces that he attacked with relentless anger until
they were but splinters and then his attention turned onto other parts of the
room as he kept fighting and attacking the room until his anger was spent.

Panting, he turned and slowly left the throne room, stopping only
long enough to speak to his chamberlain, ignoring the slightly nervous air the
man was presenting to him.

"Fix the room."

Turning away from him, Illidan strode away and up to his tower,
seeking solitude but even there the memories were plaguing him and he gritted
his teeth as memory assailed him yet again, hearing the soft laugh of Shayl,
smelling her, feeling her ghost there with him, lingering in the chamber that
housed him. Slowly, he approached the dresser that housed her items that he
couldn't bring himself to destroy. A comb that he had gotten for her, the
wooden spine bearing a carving of a flower in the center with curling vines.
How he had loved to simply watch her comb her hair, staring at the way the long
green strands flowed about her body and she had always seemed to insist on
combing it after they had tussled in bed together. It had always amused him to
interrupt her and bring her back to bed again, only to have her complain in a
half-hearted manner and he always enjoyed kissing those complaints away.

There, too, was a small bottle of cream that she had rubbed into
her skin to protect it from the dryness of the climate, smelling of herbs that
had made him remember the forests of Kalimdor as they had been. Here, one of
her carvings that she had often favored and had missed on the day she had left.
It was a deer, captured in mid-leap, the graceful lines of its legs stretched
out before and behind its body. The brush it was leaping over held the beast in
midair, though it was so cunningly carved that one noticed the deer first and
the base second, the doe looking so life-like that more then once, Illidan
expected to find her gone.

Memories plagued him and he shook with the emotions they wrought
upon his mind and heart before suddenly throwing his head back and roaring
loudly, making the stones of the room shake before there was a sudden outward
explosion of magic from his body, decimating the wall of his chamber that
overlooked the courtyard and he threw himself into the air, wings beating
furiously. Maybe if he flew long enough, hard enough, maybe the dreams wouldn't
come back. Maybe..

Maybe he could finally forget her.

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The
World Tree of Teldrassil was a wondrous thing to behold. Massive enough that
its crowning branches seemed to scrape at the very limits of the atmosphere, its
roots were sunk deep into the land of Kalimdor, its girth almost unimaginable
as it sat upon a vast island. From a first glance, the verdant leaves and
spreading branches of the tree spoke of purity and beauty, though the tree had
been raised at a price. Corruption seeped through the branches of the massive
tree, corruption allowed in due to the absence of blessings from the Dragon
Aspects whom had blessed Nordrassil. But despite the darkness in its depths,
Teldrassil was still a mighty, awe-inspiring sight that took the breath away of
many people. Amidst its soaring boughs and branches sat the city of Darnassus,
capital city of the kaldorei. The Temple of the Moon sat there, as did the home
of the Cenarion Circle and it was there that she had been brought to reside, to
learn what had been neglected her years before she had run away.

Malfurion
had begun her training before events had called him away, his young prodigy
left to the tutelage of other druids and she had been a quick study. Few words,
if any, ever left the throat of the woman who had been brought to them and
though she had been graced with Malfurion's protection, it hadn't stopped the
information from getting out. And in a week of his bringing Shayl with him to
Darnassus, everyone from Tyrande Whisperwind to the lowly couriers had known
that Shayl had been residing with Illidan by her own choice from when she had
been abducted by the Illidari in the first place.

The
whispers were there, the eyes staring and watching her, as if to see if she
would sprout horns and hooves in the same manner that Illidan had. The touch of
fel magic was strong on the druid, all could see that, and the bite upon her
neck had healed over by that time, a silver scar marring her already scarred
body. They all knew now what had become of her during her time in Illidan's
presence and many had seen Shayl as a bastard child, regarding her in the same
manner that one would regard something undesirable stuck to their foot. But no
one had dared to confront the druid to her face, no one had dared to speak up,
call her to her face what she knew they called her behind her back.

The Betrayer's Whore. Traitor. Turncoat. There had been others that she didn't remember but
it was the first one that several had named her and Shayl knew it.

It
had stung, at first, but after spending time in the company of Illidan before
returning to a people she had little reason to like and less reason to love,
Shayl had found it easy to lose herself in her studies, and within four years,
she had nearly gained the rank of Arch-Druid and been lifted to a seat upon the
Cenarion Circle that was formed by those who dwelt within Darnassus but not as
a member. No, not even close. They had brought her in as an apprentice, the
Circle had said, to see if she would be allowed to one day sit with them. That
appointment had come not from her merits and abilities, but from their need to
keep an eye on her. Keep an eye on her, ha! As if she were a mere child in need
of watching, they had meant! But that was no matter to her. She had not asked
for this. She had not tried to become what she had become on purpose. Rather,
it had been shoved on her and she resented them for it.

It
was only the snarl of Fandral that had Shayl's head lifting from where it
rested upon her hand, the proceedings of the Circle continuing as words were
filling the air and she finally shifted her weight, resting her hands upon the
arms of the chair that supported her, those blind eyes of gold almost covered
completely by the Thunderheart helm that covered her head, the hooked beak that
formed the jutting visor giving her an imposing air. Then Shayl spoke, proving
that despite her seeming distraction, she had been listening to the goings on.

"Regardless
of your feelings towards the death knights of the Ebon Blade, my lord,"
she said towards Fandral, her blind eyes meeting his and she tipped her head
forward. "They are allies of the Alliance and thus, due our respect for
they have cleaved themselves from the influence of the Lich King. For that
alone, I say that the knights should be allowed free passage through our lands.
Perhaps they will be able to provide insight into why Teldrassil is falling
into corruption."

Though
she could not see his face, Shayl could imagine it twisting into rage at her
words and she kept her head upright, chin lifted and she stared in his
direction, feeling the moods crackling and shifting as she did so. Tyrande and Hamuul
shifting in their own seats in a slow manner as if they were to lunge forward
and keep the leader of the kaldorei druids from the young woman's throat. Yet,
those golden eyes didn't waver from Fandral's and he pressed his lips together
slowly, the snarl that had taken over his features becoming slow calmness.

How
he couldn't stand this young druid! She was a liability that the kaldorei could
not afford. She had been the consort of Illidan and who knew what thoughts went
on behind those gold eyes of hers? Fandral stared for several moments before he
spoke up at last, his voice sharp as his mind raced, coming up with a plan that
had already been several weeks in the making in an attempt to remove this girl
from his hair in a way that would suit him and perhaps be rid of her once and
forever.

"Is
that so? Then perhaps you will not be afraid to roam to Outland,
youngling," he snapped angrily at Shayl, staring at her. How she made his
flesh crawl! Despite the fel magic that swirled about the girl, she was a
powerful druid and the contrast of magic irritated Fandral in ways that he
couldn't begin to name. "I have heard rumors that the leaders of the
Circle out there have begun to find ways of healing corruption amongst the
flora and fauna that exist in the blasted lands of Draenor. If that is the
case, then you are to bring back any news or research of theirs to the Circle
here."

Shayl's
mouth opened but Tyrande's voice filled the air next and she shut her lips
together quickly, the slightest hint of distaste forming on the druid's
features as she listened to the Priestess of the Moon speak. There was little
love towards Tyrande in Shayl, the druid who was an embodiment of life and
nature finding the priestess a cold woman. But perhaps part of it came from the
history between her and Illidan and Shayl, who couldn't see, knew that Tyrande
was beautiful just from the melodic strings of her voice.

"That
is a good idea. Hawkeye, perhaps it would be best if you did take your time to investigate
what the Circle has discovered in the world of Outland."

Her
fingers flexed, Shayl rising to her feet and then she merely departed without
another word. How she hated it here. How she loathed it here. Yes, loathing was
a better word for what she felt towards those about her. There had been only
one person that had made Shayl feel accepted and even then, she thought
bitterly, it had been partially through guilt that he had taken her under his
wing. But that wasn't true and she apologized silently to her shan'do as her
eyes closed and then Shayl was upon the ground and striding to where her
frostsaber awaited her, fingers gently stroking along Teila's ears, earning a
deep purr.

"Come,
Teila.. we have much work to
do," Shayl murmured as she moved to take her place upon the saddle on the
back of the large frostsaber. "Much work to do indeed."

How
easy was it to leave the city of Darnassus behind, to walk to Rut'Theran
village and to take a hippogryffe now from there to Auberdine and from Auberdine,
she caught a boat to Stormwind Harbor. Teila wasn't happy about the ship,
however, and it took a bribe of a young fawn to encourage the large feline to
bear Shayl onto the dock of the ship. But Shayl's attention was only partially
on the journey and more upon memories she had not allowed to surface for four
long years. Memories of a time she would much rather forget and her eyes
closed, a useless gesture for they did nothing to change her nonexistent sight,
the shroud of blackness that surrounded her never to lift.

Outland;
how would she deal with a return to that world?

Not
well, Shayl suspected. Not well at all. Outland meant she would have to face
memories that she would much rather leave in the darkness of her mind and those
memories were both bittersweet and cherished. The trip across the ocean did not
take long and she listened to the dull roar of the Maelstrom as they skirted
along its outermost edges, the fast flowing currents flinging the ship through
the water with speeds that were dangerous, but so long as they kept to the
outer edges of the giant whirlpool that bisected the ocean between the
continents of Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms, they were relatively safe. Or,
at least, that's what the captain of the ship told her.

As
long as they didn't die, Shayl supposed, she could care less how the trip went.
But she stood at the railing of the ship, hearing the hissing of the water and
the crackling billow of the sails as they sped along, the cool mist and foaming
of the water washing over her hands and face and the memories it brought up were
not ones that she wished to deal with at the moment, the druid busy keeping
herself restrained from tears. How could she return to Outland when just a
simple trip stirred up the memories of her abduction? But she had been given a
thinly-veiled order by the Circle to bring back research that she knew was well
within their reach to gain through other means.

A
wind had begun to whip the ship along even faster now and Shayl remained in her
spot, as unmoving as a statue as the trip continued and finally, the ship was
wrested from the currents that threatened to drag it from the relatively safe
waters that held it in a tight grip into the inner maw of the Maelstrom and
down into those deadly, dark depths that would have crushed the ship and yet,
Shayl knew, that would be if they were lucky.

Shaking
off the gloomy thoughts, the druid diverted her attention by rubbing Telia's
ears, letting her fingers sway through the thick fur that coated the thick
muscles that covered the body of the feline. This earned a slow rumbling purr
and a rub of the large cat's head against her hip and thigh, almost pushing her
over as the crack of the sails continued onwards, though the roar and speed
with which they were traveling were starting to slow down and the druid pressed
her lips together as she knew it would be only an hour or so until they were
soon at Stormwind Harbor. But still she stood there in the light of the day,
ignoring the burning of her skin that was occurring thanks to her exposure to
the sunlight or the pain that she would be feeling later as well as her hunger.

At
last, the heaving of the ship began to slow and a bell rang as they slowly came
up to the dock of Stormwind Harbor, Shayl returning to her perch upon her
saddle, Telia padding forward once the ship had come to a halt, the anchor of
the ship keeping them still for only so long before the captain was going to
gesture for it to be pulled up and she knew that the ship would be returning to
Kalimdor. So it was that Shayl bid Telia to run, guiding the large beast
through the winding roads of Stormwind City to the flight master. As Telia
stepped from the stone ramp onto the wooden flooring, Shayl dismounted from the
large cat and patted her face.

"I
will call for you soon enough, my friend," she said with a smile, her eyes
warming as she looked to the large cat. "I travel to Nethergarde and I
need speed that's even greater then yours."

There
was a rumble before the frostsaber's tongue swiped over Shayl's cheek and then
the big cat was gone and Shayl walked to the flight master, paying the fare
silently before she was led to one of the large gryphons that served for swift
transport above the lands of the Eastern Kingdoms. The bird-feline hybrid
padded to the flight ledge and then leapt out into open air, freefalling for a
few seconds before there was a rustle of feathers and its wings spread out
wide, the gryphon's flight bearing it aloft and Shayl dug her fingers into the
mane of feathers that covered its neck, her blind eyes closing as she allowed
sensation to bear her aloft, hearing the beating of wings and feeling the
caress of wind across her face and a sense of almost weightlessness as the
gryphon set its wings into a locked position, gliding along now and then and
the silence during those times was divine.

But
the silence also allowed for memories to surface and Shayl had no choice but to
acknowledge the fact that she was remembering times that were both wonderful
and painful. She had been happy in Outland; perhaps she hadn't been truly liked
by those that had followed Illidan, but she had been happy with him, enjoying
the fights they had gotten into, despising the way he had seen her at first as
nothing more then a mere annoyance, persisting in her attention towards him and
her efforts had finally begun to pay off. But she had connected to him in a way
that had confused her at first and that confusion was what had led to what had
occurred between them.

Then,
coldly, Shayl told herself that those memories were serving no purpose as she rested
atop the gryphon, feeling the air change as they passed from the Swamp of
Sorrows into the Blasted Lands as the humid, hot air gave way to dry, hot air.
It wasn't a sudden transition, but the change was still potent all the same and
she opened her eyes, letting her senses speak to her as she felt the blasted
remnants of the land about her speaking where swamplands had once been before
the Dark Portal had been destroyed thanks to Ner'zhul's own incompetence and
arrogance when he had opened all of the portals at once. The magical backlash
had torn Draenor apart, forming Outland and that had quite simply been that.
Yet, all was not as it seemed.

Shaking
the thoughts away as she felt the gryphon descending to Nethergarde Keep's
landing spot, she tightened her grip with her legs as the gryphon's hind feet
came down first before its clawed forefeet came down with a jarring thump and
she shook her head once or twice before slipping free of the gryphon's back and
she patted its beak with a smile and murmured thanks before moving, one hand on
the rope that decorated the outer edge of the spiraling ramp that led down to
the ground below and she finally lifted her hand, letting out a silent call and
Telia appeared moments later, ready to be ridden once again.

Once
again in the saddle, Shayl allowed Telia to guide them now, the frostsaber
carrying her rider swiftly to their destination and Shayl's head tilted
slightly as she heard the low roar of the Portal approaching. There was a sense
about it that set her teeth on edge, a sound to it that made her teeth grit and
her eyes narrow as the druid fought the urge to cover her ears with her hands.
It was an unusual thing. But Telia charged down the slope of the crater and
through the camp and up the stone ramp that led to the Portal and just before
they entered it, the massive feline leapt and they plunged through the magical
rift.

For
several long seconds, there was an oppressive coldness about them as the feline
and the night elf hung weightless in that space between worlds, moving forward
at speeds that were both beyond the speed of light and yet agonizingly slow. Here,
there was no sound, no light, no heat. Time held no
meaning in this place and the darkness and coldness threatened to crush the
mount and rider, the infinite darkness so much more then their mere speck of
life. But then, suddenly, light and sound and heat were about hem once more and
Telia landed upon her paws neatly as she finished her leap.

Shayl's
head was reeling at the sounds of battle for it had been four long years since
she had been here. Four years of study and forgetfulness and it all came
crashing back as she smelled the air, felt the dry heat assaulting her face, and
heard the howling of the wind. But the sounds of battle were close indeed and
so was the presence of daemons about the place and she lifted her head as the
angle at which Telia was walking suddenly sloped downwards. The frostsaber
continued onwards, stopping only suddenly when a hand caught at her reins and
Shayl heard someone speaking to her.

"Here
now, lassie, whit d'ye think yer doin'? Yer headin' for those there demons!
There are gryphons nearby, if ye need tae be travelin' somewhere!"

The
rich, rough accent of a dwarf's voice filled the air and Shayl found herself
smiling almost involuntarily. Despite herself, she had become quite fond of the
dwarves, admiring their stout, good nature (with the notable exception of the
Dark Iron dwarves) and their odd senses of humor. But she had nothing to fear
here for as soon as she had stepped into these lands, the mark on her neck and
the fel energies that marked her as mate to a daemon of considerable power had
flared up from where they had lain dormant and she found herself unable to
answer, her head lifting upwards as she closed her eyes before breathing in a
slow sigh and letting it out before finally answering.

"Don't
worry, my good dwarf," she said softly now. "I know what I am doing
and Telia here is more then swift enough to outrun
their fastest minions. Please, let me go."

The
dwarf looked up at the night elf suspiciously, but he slowly allowed his
fingers to relax from the reins of the frostsaber, his eyes squinting even
further. There was an expression of longing on the night elf's face he didn't
understand, but there had also seemed to be a terrible sadness. Yet, as soon as
the reins were released, the frostsaber exploded into motion and his cry of
alarm was delayed by a vital second or two. The frostsaber charged towards the
wall of warriors where two massive Infernals fought to break through their
ranks and Telia's muscles bunched before she suddenly leapt into the air again,
soaring gracefully over the heads of the astonished men and women. Even the
Infernals gave brief pause to their actions, allowing Shayl access between them
as she held onto Telia's back with her legs.

Shocked
and amazed, the defenders of the Portal watched as the night elf passed by the
daemons unmolested and unchallenged. But how were they to know that she carried
a protection upon her that warned the daemons off? How could they know that the
fel beasts smelled Illidan's touch on this female and that they knew enough of
him to not risk his anger by possibly destroying his chosen mate? It wasn't
until she heard nothing but the low moaning of the wind and the thudding of
Telia's paws that Shayl finally let Telia stop running.

For
long moments, the frostsaber stood there, feeling the indecisiveness of her rider,
wondering what it was that had her mistress so upset. Finally, Shayl dismounted
from Telia and she looked about the place. The essence of the storm crow called
to her and she rested her hand on her friend's broad head. The communion was
silent but Telia understood and once more, she departed and Shayl's arms spread
as the change came upon her.

The
feathers appeared as patterns upon her skin at first, rising up and out of her
flesh and bones snapped and popped, tendons shifted and her internal organs
rearranged themselves. But there was no pain as Shayl flowed into the body of
the storm crow that filled her now and she flapped her wings once, twice and
then she was in the air, the only vestiges of the night elf that remained being
her two now long, large ears. But the winds carried her up, up, up off the
ground with ease. There was a wild sense of joy in Shayl at this new freedom and
she circled once and then twice before finally stopping and hovering in midair,
struggling with herself and her decisions.

To
the west lay Zangarmarsh and it was there that she would find the stronghold of
the Circle in this blasted world. But it was to the south that Shayl was being
pulled. She wanted to see him again. Damn her soul, she wanted.. no.. she
needed to see him again. The pull of seeing Illidan once more could only be
described as overwhelming. Four long years of suffering, four long years of not
having seen the man that.. No. No! This was
foolishness! Shayl turned her head away from the south, closed her heart in a
shell and began to wing her way towards the west, the steady stroking of her
wings slicing up and down through the air as she hurled herself as fast as she
could towards Zangarmarsh.

There
was no place for her here; there was no reason for her to turn to the south, to
go see him. He had made that abominably clear that terrible day. So it was that
Shayl flew and flew, deliberately flying as fast as she could, just to have her
muscles start burning in protest. The slow transition from the arid, dry area
of Hellfire Peninsula to the wet, rainy swamps of Zangarmarsh was something of
a reversal from the Swamp of Sorrows and he Blasted
Lands. But Shayl persisted grimly, only coming downwards when she felt sparks
of druidic magic gathered together and the familiar thwomping footsteps of an
ancient of war caught her sensitive hearing. Swooping downwards to perch on the
roof of the leader's dwelling, she remained there for a moment or two, preening
her wing and allowing herself to indulge in a moment's rest before fluttering
to the ground and taking place there.

The
return to her form was easily done, the druid shedding her feathers for flesh,
her wings for arms, her talons for feet and she stretched for a moment, feeling
the loss of that weightless nature before finally turning away from the sky and
she stepped up the wooden ramp that would lead her into the building to the
balcony that Ysiel stood at. The leader of the Refuge was currently in
conversation with a courier and Shayl kept her distance, but what she heard was
troubling.

"�
you are sure, then? Lady Vashj is dwelling within
Coiilfang Reservoir?" Ysiel said, her voice carrying sharply.

"Yes,
my lady," came the voice of a young man.

"Damn!
If one of Illidan's most trusted lieutenants is here, then what is he
planning?! There must be a reason for it!"

Ysiel's
voice had come out more stridently then she'd intended, but it wasn't to be
helped and her hands settled on her hips as she stared at the lands outside of
the Refuge where the beasts of Zangarmarsh roamed and she thought. It was
useless trying to send a scout out to investiage something in another part of
the Outlands but Ysiel would have slept better knowing what it was that Illidan
had Vashj doing. But finally, she dismissed the courier and turned to Shayl who
tilted her head at the woman.

"My apologies, master druid, at the delay in finding
the time for speaking with you since your arrival. There are reports
coming in and all of them have been quite alarming. I am afraid that I have not the resources nor the ability to learn what it is that I
want to know. But regardless, I am here and at your service. What may I help
you with today?"

There
was a matter-of-fact nature about the leader of this place that Shayl liked. A
firm directness that was open and unequivocal, but wholly appreciated. Yet, she
didn't answer right away, turning the words she had heard over and over within
her mind before she spoke up at last, her voice pitched low.

"I
was sent here by Fandral Staghelm and Tyrande Whisperwind. I am here to learn
of whatever research there has been of the cleansing of flora and fauna within
this place. I was hoping that you could tell me more."

Even as she spoke, Ysiel's head was shaking back and forth slightly before she
spoke in reply to the druid's words, her military tone reflecting well on her
character, Shayl felt. This was a woman that she would have been willing to
follow, willing to listen to had she been part of her group and the Circle out
here. But she was not part of this group, nor was Shayl really part of any
other night elf faction. All because of Illidan's lingering touch upon her soul
and mind, all because they believed that he had corrupted her or planted seeds
of betrayal in her mind.

"There
is no complete research here, master druid. I am afraid that you wasted your
time coming this way and to this place. For that, I apologize. Fandral has been
seeking the completion of the research that we're doing for some time now. Yet,
this research that we're doing is not close to being done and I already sent
someone to Darnassus a few days ago with out updated progress. This is not the
first time he has done something of this sort."

Shayl
slumped slightly at the words, though she'd suspected as much and slowly, the
younger woman nodded her head. She turned now, a brief smile flickering across
her lips and then spoke, her voice low.

"I
see. Well, I thank you, lady Ysiel, for your time. I shall get out of your hair
and leave you be."

Hearing
only a murmured sound of reply, Shayl stepped out of the building and then her
eyes closed tightly, a habit that had formed over the years. Few were those
that could tell she was blind by mere glances at her, though she knew that the
observant, the studious about her could tell. But a whistle was lifted to her
lips now and she blew into it, a sound carrying from the whistle that was
beyond the range of even her hearing but the one it was meant for would hear it
soon enough and she waited now for the recipient of the whistle to arrive.

The
beating of large wings soon filled the air and a roar of delight nearly split
her head in half, but Shayl smiled as she lifted her hands to the albino
Netherdrake that landed heavily before her, nearly being pushed over by the
joyful nuzzles that she was being lavished with, the low rumbles that Ilthanaku
was emitting vibrating through her whole body. She hadn't seen the netherwhelp
in some time, having left him in Outland at Malfurion's insistence and yet, she
had still managed to maintain a sort of connection tohim. During the flight,
she had bonded with the young albino, and now she marveled at the size of the
head she held. By her estimates, he was likely a young adult, if not fully
grown now and she pressed her lips together for a moment, feeling hot tears
roll down her cheeks.

"I missed you," said the young drake in his deep voice, the
rolling syllables soft and beautiful. Once more, he pressed his head into
Shayl's body, the ridges above his eyes nestled into her figure and the planes
of his snout rubbing to her thighs. If his head alone was any indication, he
was certainly large, or so Shayl estimated. Her hands move to his horns and
rubbed beneath them, a smile spreading over her lips when she was rewarded with
a purr and a nuzzle from his head.

"And
I've missed you, Ilthenaku."

There
was honesty in Shayl's voice and though she was unlikely to tell him this, she
cherished this drake quite a bit for he had been the last gift Illidan had
given her. She loved the young drake with everything that she had within
herself and her eyes closed and opened and she blinked away the tears once
again, sniffling softly and wiping her face before she spoke up now, her voice
husky with choked back tears as she scratched at the white hide, feeling the
warmth of it beneath her fingers. Then, she spoke quietly now.

"Will
you take me to Shattrath, Ilthenaku? I wish to return to Darnassus for long
enough to collect my things.. and
then I think I will return here to Outland. I have no place or use in Azeroth
and I have missed this world, so much.. I have missed
you and I have missed the peace this place brings me, strange as it is. Will
you do this for me?"

There
was silence from the Netherdrake for a second and then he laughed softly, his
finned tail sweeping about while he gently nudged her with his head to his
side, carefully nosing her up upon his back. She would need a saddle later, but
for now, he would bear her aloft as carefully as he could while managing to take
her to where she wished to go.

"Of course I will."

The
gentle response soothed Shayl's mind and she nodded her head once before
climbing up awkwardly upon his back, helped by the nudging of his snout and
words. But finally, Shayl was set upon his back, her fingers gripping the
swooping crest that came from the rear of his head and her eyes closed as he
lifted himself from the ground. To close your eyes when you were blind was a
useless thing, but in a way, it almost seemed to enhance everything
deliberately and once more, she felt wind combing through her hair and blowing
across her face as Ilthenaku flew from the Cenarion Refuge towards Shattrath.
Then..

"Mother? Why did you
leave?"

Shayl's
mouth opened slightly as Ilthenaku called her 'mother'. Mother.
He was calling her his mother. For some reason, that made her ache as she knew
she had the ugliest child there could ever be in the history of motherhood. Her
eyes watered and once more tears rolled down her cheeks as she thought of how
to answer the question.. but
there was no getting about the fact that he wanted an answer and finally, the
druid spoke in gentle response.

"I.. I left because someone.. someone
very important to me hurt me in a way that.. that
needed time to heal."

Shayl
suddenly had to tighten her grip with both arms and legs for Ilthenaku whipped
his head about with such force that Shayl almost fell off of her perch. But the
response that he gave her stunned her and her eyes widened as she registered
the words coming out of his throat in a deep, bass growl.

"Who was it, mother? Who was it that hurt you? I will find
them and eat them for you, mother!"

Despite
herself, the druid smiled and she patted the warm muscles of the nether drake's
neck and her eyes watered once again before she spoke up softly, her voice low
and even though she was right there by his head, Ilthenaku had to strain to
hear her words, only the sharp and acute hearing of dragons helping to bring
her words to his ears, as much as he had ears.

"He
was the man that I.. I love. But don't go after him.. if you slew him, I.."

This
was perhaps the first time that Shayl had admitted to being in love with Illidan
verbally. At least, it was the first time in a long time that she could
remember and she found herself now unable to continue her words, unable to
finish speaking what she knew was said anyways in the silence of the air and
the beating of the wings as well as the distant patter of rain striking both
her body and the body of the Netherdrake beneath her and finally, she felt the
angle of Ilthenaku's flight path change and he said nothing more for now,
perhaps finding that it was best giving her time to cope with the memories his
question had stirred.

At
last, however, the rumble of the city below filled her ears and Shayl finally
lifted a hand upwards, wiping at her face and she reflected on what she'd been
taught by those who had been to this place and come back. It was the recent
developments that had taken place over the last year or so that had especially
gotten her attention, particularly the news of the Scryers. Would she know any
of them? Could she know any of them? And to hear that Kael had become in his
own way a power hungry maniac? What had caused him to break from Illidan's
side, to turn on him? Perhaps if she found the leader of the Scryers, she could
inquire about that.

Ilthenaku
settled down onto the Terrace of Light, his misty, half-there wings of pale
lavender swept to his sides and he held still as Shayl straightened her back,
easing herself back to sit at the base of his neck as she sat and thought for a
moment, the humming of the city about her gathering her attention and then her
hands were set on the drake's neck as she pressed in with her legs, urging him
to move along. There was no true set destination except perhaps the inside of
the Terrace of Light's main building, where there were portals to the major
cities of the Alliance.

It
was an interesting thing to be amongst the other races again, however. Though
she had met travelers from time to time in the boughs of the city of Darnassus,
humans and dwarves and gnomes, and, much more recently, draenei, Shayl had
never fully immersed herself in crowds. Indeed, the young years of her life
amongst her people was the closest experience she had with it as well as her
time in the Black Templer and she much preferred the solitude of the wilds to
this crowded place where her senses were being assaulted.

Noise
from vendors was common, the hawking of merchants loud and insistent while the
loud clang of metal upon item was heard in the smithies where some forged
weapons and others repaired equipment worn by travelers. Freshly baked bread
tickled her nose, as did the stench of unwashed bodies where winds from the
Lower City brought the smell of the refugees to her nose. At last, the noise
level cut down somewhat as they entered the building, though even that seemed
noisy until she heard the music beneath it all, the shining chimes of something
pure in melody bringing tears to her eyes and Shayl felt her worries fading
away as she listened to the musical humming that had to come from.. what was the name of that race? Ah, yes, the naaru. She had
been told the one that ruled this city had been named A'dal. Was that correct?
She thought so.

It
was a simple matter to return to Darnassus and to scoop up her items when Shayl
was caught by a summons to the Cenarion Circle because they had been informed
of her return and with a sigh, Shayl finished placing everything into her
rucksack before finally answering the summons, moving up the path that her
blind feet had trodden so many times that she knew the way by heart and had no
fear of falling off the edge. But at last, Shayl stepped into the chamber that
Fandral used for the Circle members located in Darnassus and Shayl had opened
her mouth to speak when she was blasted by the tones of Fandral.

"Well?"
he demanded in thankless tones. "Did you find the research that we sent
you in search of, druid?"

"No,
I didn't. Ysiel told me that the research progress is fed to you, constantly,
so I see little reason for my having been sent out there!" Shayl said
sharply now as her hands clenched at her sides. Slowly, however, she forced
herself to relax.

"Yes,
yes, I suppose that is true. However, we have another matter for you to.." A cruel smile that was there and gone curled
Fandral's lips suddenly. "attend to. It has come
to the attention of the Circle that there are rumblings proceeding in the
Outlands as to just how much influence Illidan is wielding, especially in the
area of Coilfang Reservoir, and considering your past.. acquaintance..
with him, the Circle commands that you investigate
this matter more fully. Should you succeed in learning what all there is to
know in this assignment, druid, you may be granted the title of arch-druid and
elevated to a seat on the Cenarion Circle. Go now,
there is truly no time to waste. Find a mage and return to Shattrath City and
begin your investigation there."

Shayl
was still and silent for long moments, her expression stony and hard and yet,
if there was one emotion that could have been assigned her at that moment in time, it could only have been named hatred. Hatred for these
people who thought she were a mere puppet, or a traitor, to dance to their
music, to be pulled and jerked about by their strings. However, Shayl had been
given her orders and she turned and left the chamber without even having had
anything to say in return. Perhaps it was best she had been silent because she
felt as if she were going to scream.

It
had been a simple manner to find a mage, paying them ten gold to open a portal
to Shattrath and Shayl stepped through, almost immediately finding herself being pushed about by Ilthenaku's snout. The musical
chimes of the nearby naaru filled the air and finally, Shayl returned to her
seat on the drake's back and she let him move through the chamber, having
formed some vague idea of going to the World's End Tavern first to begin
gathering information. But then, suddenly, the music and relaxation she had
felt dropped like a stone as voices nearby caught her attention, not by their
volumes or tones, but their subject matter. A matter that she had been told to
listen for by her superiors; how she had hated them in that moment. How cruel,
was it, to have had it delivered to her so quickly?

"..
yeah, the old coot's paying fifty gold to anyone who
actually manages to get into the Black Temple and back out of it and they
manage to take Illidan's head with 'em when they leave."

The
voice was rough, but low and furtive and Shayl's mind drew up a picture of a
human for he didn't have the melodious undertones of a sin'dorei or quel'dorei
to his words. Rogue, perhaps. Or, at the least, a warrior who didn't want his
words overheard by the wrong party. Shayl believed that if she lost her
blindness, she would lose parts of her senses that gave her a distinct
advantage over some others. Yet, Ilthenaku stopped, aware of the sudden tension
that curled through her body and he turned his head towards her, wondering what
it was that bothered her so.

"The head of Illidan? Are you crazy, Yarrik?
He's the toughest bastard out here in Outland! Even the Eredar at the Legion
outposts don't go near him! And his whole fortress is full of naga and daemons
and blood elves ready to kill for him! I've heard even his harem's ready to
fight and kill for him!"

A
new voice, this one feminine and lighter, though as sly as that of Yarrik, but
Shayl didn't quite form a picture for her. Harem? Harem?! He had made a harem for himself?! That made anger
surge through her suddenly and her jaw line tightened before she spoke now to
Ilthenaku, her voice low, sharp even as the group
nearby continued to speak.

"Ilthenaku,
there's been a change of plans. Please, first, find me a place where I can
purchase a saddle for you because as much as I trust you, I do fear falling
off."

"Of course, mother."

He
wheeled about easily, remaining upon the ground, but departed and soon was able
to be found traveling to the Lower City where he'd seen another one of his kind
sleeping along with several of what he presumed to be her siblings and in a few
short minutes, Shayl was soon haggling with the man who tended the netherdrakes
nearby whom were conversing with Ilthenaku and she got a saddle, though it was
not as expensive as she'd thought, the druid paying only sixty gold. But with
the man's help, she placed it on Ilthenaku's back in a way that wouldn't
interfere with his ability to fly, securing the straps that wrapped over his
chest tightly. Then, once more, Shayl placed herself upon his back and bade him
to fly, holding onto the handles that came with the saddle.

"Where are we going, mother?" inquired the young
drake as he flew away from Shattrath City.

"I.. we are going to the Black Temple. We are going there
because there is someone in that place that.. I need
to see." We are going there, Shayl thought silently, so that I
can face the man I want to see. � I only wonder if he will be glad to see me..

There
was no real answer to that question, however, and Shayl knew it. He had driven
her off four years ago, telling her to leave, telling her that she had been nothing
more then a mere distraction for him. And that had hurt. Oh, how it had hurt
and even now, just the mere memory of it had her eyes burning with tears and
she shifted idly in the saddle. Her memories involving Illidan always seemed to
be bittersweet and yet so powerful that she could still not determine if they
were good memories or bad ones. Perhaps they were both. But where would she
have been if she had not been taken by Kael's forces in order to heal their
master? That answer was, for once, easy. Still in the wilds with only the
beasts and the weather and earth for her companions; that was where she would
be now, had she not been taken.

Did
she regret meeting Illidan?

What
a loaded question, she knew! What a hard question to answer! It was loaded in
ways that made it difficult to determine where to start with it. But it made
Shayl think now, made her question herself, made her wonder at the what-ifs,
the might-have-beens, the suppose-this-or-that�s and she looked at them all.
What if she hadn't been taken? What if she hadn't been there? What if she
hadn't run away as a child? What if she hadn't fallen in love with Illidan?
What if, what if, what if. A person could drive themselves mad,
questioning what had already taken place, obsessed with trying to change the
past when that was impossible.

But,
she knew that the answer to the question would always be the same. No. She
didn't regret meeting Illidan. Nor did she regret falling in love with him. She
had been changed by him. That much was obvious when she compared herself to how
she had been before her capture by Kael and his forces and the strength she had
begun to display afterwards. Illidan was the one who had changed her and that
was what mattered.

The
clean, misty smells of Terrokar Forest began to fade away as Ilthenaku flew
over them, his wings slicing through the air and then, just as suddenly, the
air seemed to change and it almost struck Shayl like a slap in the face. The
air reeked of fel magic and there were distant rumbles of thunder in the air, though
something that someone had told her once said the thunder was the impacts of
Infernals upon the distant lands. This area was enveloped by the fel magics of
the Burning Legion and she wondered how it had managed to change so much since
the time she had last been here. The land below was in agony, twisting and
burnt and the sky above was putrid and dark. Life existed here, but it was
corrupt, twisted and foul.

Ilthenaku
traveled onwards, his flight slow and unhurried as he moved through the air
over the land, but he was busy watching the skies and ground for any threats
that might come. But the miles melted swiftly beneath his wings and he flew
onwards towards the Black Temple. He knew Outland fairly well, for he had been
living here for some time and had learned the layout of each part of these
broken lands well. He was surprised, however, to see his brethren in the air as
he approached the temple, his milky white eyes looking for the patriarch of
their kind, but he didn't see him. But as they finally closed in on the outside
of the Black Temple, a shrill blast of sound stopped Ilthenaku in his spot,
shaking his head in pain while Shayl cried out upon his back and then a
mechanical voice with fel overtones to it rolled through the air.

"Do
not proceed. You will be eliminated."

Though
she could not see whatever it was that spoke, something about the words made
Shayl shudder with an unwholesome fear. Whatever it was that had spoken,
whatever it was that owned that terrible voice, it drove fear through her. The
druid was not so foolish as to not show fear in situations that were unfamiliar
to her, nor did she attempt to get into fights where it was unsure of whether
or not she could survive. But in unknown, new situations, she did not
appreciate being uninformed of whatever it was that was there. Again came the shrill blast and the harsh voice.

"Do
not proceed. You will be eliminated."

Leaning
forward, Shayl touched her hand to Ilthenaku's neck, speaking up now.

"Is
there open ground beneath us to land upon? If so, back away from whatever it is
that speaks and threatens us and rest upon the ground. I know this place. There
are other ways into the Black Temple apart from the front doors."

"Yes, mother."

Once
more there came the flapping of wings before Ilthenaku's feet came into firm
contact with the ground in a jarring thump that rattled Shayl's teeth. The fel
reaver that she could not see had turned away as the Netherdrake had back
winged away from it before landing and the drake swept his head from side to
side, keeping his eyes open for any potential threats and his tail swept from
side to side behind himself as Shayl slipped from his back, recognizing the
sense of a yawning wall and building before her and her heart constricted. She
had never expected to come here again, but she had been lying to herself, she
supposed, in saying that she never would return.

There
was a tie between herself and Illidan that had been forged through heated
emotions and time, a bond that had started to resurrect itself. Her hand
lifted, touching to the healed over wound that had been left on her neck, a
mark that he had touched often, with fingers and lips and tongue. The presence
of this scar had seemed to please him and she had felt as if it were proper.
Though it marked her as belonging to him, she had not minded one bit. It had
been a mark that he had given her and that had pleased Shayl in an odd, primal
way. Finally, however, she reached to her back and removed the staff that
rested there and she set it upon the ground.

There
was a way into the Temple. How? Where? It was a problem she had not expected. A
problem that must be solved if she were to continue forwards and her senses
slowly expanded away from her body, trying to find what barred her way, how she
could get pass whatever it was that had spoken and Shayl nearly fainted as she
had her first encounter with the Doomwalker. The malignant, cruel sense of the
creature filled her mind and she gasped, wrenching herself away from the
sensation of the creature's mind on her own, turning her thoughts now onto the
building and she recognized the sensation of the Black Temple spreading out
before her.

It
was a small thing that caught her attention, a simple, little thing that had
likely been overlooked, but something told her that it was not normal for the
Temple to have fallen into disarray. It had been well-maintained now, but it
seemed.. sloppy. Finally, her
eyes opened, the golden glow that illuminated them spreading before her
slightly before the druid finally turned to her drake and laid a warm hand onto
his neck, smiling to him as she finally spoke up.

"Ilthenaku,
I wish for you to remain out here. Do not be afraid to take flight and keep
yourself from the ground. Hunt, rest, but keep yourself aware of my summons
possibly. I do not know when I might call for you, but I might do so soon, or I
may do so some time from now. There are.. issues that I must deal with within this place and I know
that you might not wish to be kept ensnared to this area."

"It will be as you wish, mother. I will listen for your call.
Be safe, mother."

For
a moment, Shayl embraced Ilthenaku's snout, resting her forehead against his
and he closed his eyes before she released him and stepped back and then her
form began to shift. First, the woman's skin darkened, before the hairs on her
arms and legs suddenly began to multiply and shimmer, spreading out more. The
green of her hair shifted in shade, the strands splitting upon the entire
length of the strand after seeming to melt into her skin, creating shorter fur
that was purple in shade. Nose and mouth began to protrude outwards, the
elongated eyeteeth of her upper jaw suddenly starting to stretch downwards past
her chin, the pearly tusks curling backwards towards her chest. Muscles rippled
along her body as her arms grew longer and Shayl settled easily upon all fours,
hands and feet becoming large paws, her clothes helping to form her pelt of fur
while her spine elongated out into a long tail. Whiskers quivered on either
side of her muzzle and her ears twitched, but they remained long and tapering.
Inhaling deeply had the slits of her nostrils flaring wide and the transformed
druid stretched out her forelegs and yawned, exposing sharp white teeth before
Shayl finally wrapped herself in shadows and she began to prowl slowly towards
the nearby wall of the Temple to investigate it more fully.

She
had been traveling along it for perhaps five minutes, ten at the most, when she
had heard the change of airflow from outside to within and she knew that this
was where she would make her entrance. Her head tilted for a moment before
Shayl finally, suddenly, twisted and Shayl dropped the near-invisibility that
had been adopted to get close to the walls and she leapt inside and she knew,
despite everything, despite whatever reaction she might receive from Illidan, despite
whatever it was that happened that this was how it had been meant to turn out.

It
took a few moments for the blind druid to make her way from the outer walls to
the inside of the Temple and when she emerged, there was a pitched battle going
on. The shrill hissing of a naga siren and the growling snarls of some
myrmidons caught her attention as metal slammed into metal, then a human's
voice broke through the air, and she knew now that this was likely some
adventurer seeking prestige by assaulting the Temple, though Shayl quickly
revised her opinion when she heard that human's voice calling out to the Light.
A paladin? Here? That alone was enough for her to stop
short, curious and unsure of which side to take. Then she suddenly found
herself under attack, a bolt of ice magic making her yowl and quickly divorce
herself of the feline shape she held even as there was a spattering crunch of
bone nearby and the wet, fleshy thuds of bodies hitting the ground, indicating
that the human had won his battle.

But
the shape that took form made more then one naga pause for that hair was
distinctive, the mark on the throat well-known and the druidic raiment adorning
the curvaceous body of the night elf pointing to who this was. Shayl set the
butt of her staff down upon the ground, unsure for a moment of where she was
until the stench of the sewers assaulted her nose and she knew that it was the sewers
of the Temple. Then a soothing presence eased closer to her and she tilted her
head to the side, glancing in the general direction of the paladin when one
siren finally spoke up, her guttural, harsh voice echoing in a watery fashion.

"What
are you doing back here, druid? I had thought that our lord and master had
thrown you from this place several years ago."

A
trial by fire, was it? A trial to see if she would flinch and Shayl knew that
if she flinched, if she showed hesitation, weakness, any sort of faltering
image now before the naga, they would tear her apart. The paladin was staring
now, he knew, confused as to the words being directed towards a night elf, and
a druidic one at that, by a naga when racial hatred should have had the two of
them fighting already. But he said nothing, the man watching the elf from the
corner of his eyes. Shayl's chin went up, her eyes narrowed and her tone of
voice came out cold as the depths of the ocean that the naga had come from.

"Your
lord and master he might be, but Illidan has not held claim in that title with
me ever. My choice to leave was mine, though subjected to influence from him,
just as my return is chosen by myself and nothing from him. Is that clear? Now
leave me be. I am here to see him, not to bandy words with you!"

Draconicus
was stunned to see the naga pausing, stunned to see the foul naga exchanging
glances at the words of this druid. A druid, giving words to a naga that made
them stop and not attack? Just who was this druid? Once again, his dark eyes
turned upwards to the night elf, looking at her in a suspicious manner. A night
elf that knew Illidan, and by the sounds of it, she had not known the insane
hybrid in just a platonic manner but in a truly intimate way. There was silence
for the most part as the naga began to hiss amongst one another and then, a
myrmidon, his draconic face twisting in a rather impatient manner, lunged for
the paladin who reacted almost too slow, barely bringing his hammer up to parry
the blow swept at him by the snake-like creature's sword.

"Stop
it!" Shayl cried. "All of you, stop
it!"

Her
hands lifted, reaching into the air, feeling the naga reacting and then her own
staff was brought forward as she felt a blow coming in her direction. Shayl was
not a warrior, not in the sense of paladins and warriors themselves, but she
would not stand for this. Another blow had her skidding backwards, nearly breaking
her back as she felt the hard press of scales over harder muscle and
iron-strong bone slammed against her body. Her eyebrows drew together, the
druid feeling angry now. Once more, her form changed into that of a night
saber, the transformation taking place much more swiftly then it had before and
she charged into the nagas that were surrounding the nearby paladin with a roar
that echoed throughout the halls of the Temple from the Sewers upwards, making
some pause.

Elsewhere
in the Temple, the presence of another druid didn't stir the lord and master of
this place at first. He had felt druids enter the Temple before, but something
about this surge of new magic seemed oh so familiar to him, intimately so.
Then, from where his head had been resting in his hand, Illidan lifted it and
he slowly stirred. For the first time in four years, the beast within had
started to waken, making the madman wonder. No, it wouldn't be. It couldn't be.
She had left. She had been driven out and she had gone and left him. His lips
flexed over his teeth and Illidan paused when a new surge of magic had his
nostrils flaring as he dragged in the scent of it. Hope began to blossom within
him before it was suddenly crushed by his own anger. It was another trick,
another illusion crafted by the succubi! Shayl was not here.

But
the sensation of the magic in the depths of the Temple and he couldn't help but
admit in a slow manner to himself that he wondered.. and hoped.

In
the sewers, Shayl was busy tearing the throat out of a myrmidon that had tried
to gut her, the druid's fangs sunk deeply into his neck. Many of the naga were
fleeing for the druid was a whirlwind of claw and teeth and fury, her blindness
seeming to be negligible at this moment in time. Sharp claws and strong teeth
tore through skin and scale alike, and the paladin's hammer crushed heads and
limbs, the pair of them making short work of the group of naga that had
attacked and finally, the naga broke and fled from the two and Shayl waited
until the last slithers and disturbances in the air were gone, but there was no
more time for stealth. Changing back, her mouth opened when she felt the warmth
of the Light washing over her, healing the damage that had been done to her by
the claws and fangs of the other naga and while she was grateful..

"You
should leave," Shayl said suddenly as she bent and picked up her staff
from where it sat in the slowly flowing water of the sewer, wiping off the haft
of it with a hand, flicking her hand and splattering algae across the already
slimy walls before turning her attention back to the paladin. "This place
is not a good place to be and believe me when I say that the naga will return
and they will bring greater numbers with them, enough to overwhelm you."

"Who
are you," demanded Draconicus, "to know how the naga in this place
deal with threats?"

Silence
met his question for several long moments and Shayl closed her eyes, those
blind, useless eyes that had never served a purpose for her and then she
shifted to lean on her staff. The paladin was astonished at the change in her,
at the weary sag of her shoulders and the drooping of her spine, the way that
this druid seemed to be held up only by the staff that her fingers were wrapped
around tightly enough to the point of where the knuckles had grown almost white
in shade. When she spoke, Shayl's voice was full of a deep sadness that resonated
from the very depths of her soul.

"I
am Shayl Hawkeye and I once was mistress of this place. Believe me when I say
that it is better for you to leave when it is peaceful like this. I know they
are gathering their numbers. I know they will swarm upon this location. You.. do not want to face those here
upon your own. Leave. Leave now and don't come back, paladin. This place.. is not a place for you. If you
want to live, if you want to survive, then leave!"

Her
voice had risen as she'd spoken until Shayl was shouting at the human. Perhaps
it was due to the fact that she was so serious that Draconicus found himself
moving instinctively, trying to find a way out. And then the druid was moving
past him, her form changing yet a third time to that of a massive feline and
she was running past him, the heavy splash of water marking her passage as
those wide paws of hers slammed down against the flowing sewage. But word had already
spread and Shayl merely hoped that the paladin wasn't so foolish as to remain
in this place when there was death approaching him.

The
feline was moving faster now, her momentum carrying her through the Temple,
racing up from the depths and breaking through the startled naga who
immediately began to race after her, more then one siren hurling ice spells
after the druid. But Shayl whispered to herself in her feline tongue and a
burst of energy was granted to her, her legs pumping as she ran now, lunging
forward as she ran towards her destiny for that was what she was doing now,
wasn't it? Running to her destiny and the man that she..
No, no, there was no use in trying to remember those thoughts now, not at this
time.

It
was a sudden thing to find the ground leveling out beneath her feet and the
form of the druid became bipedal once again. How many nights had she dreamed of
doing this, of traveling through this trial by fire, only to be wrapped up in
his arms again, told by him that he would never leave her again, spoken to in
gentle tones and she would never be forced to leave. But her name was flitting
from mouth to mouth as those that recognized her whispered her name until it
was as if the wind were traveling through the leaves in the forests of Kalmidor
once again and Shayl wondered when she would be noticed by him as she let her
heart guide her feet, rather then relying upon her senses to guide her.

"Shayl.."

"It's
her.."

"Does
he know? Someone, go tell him..!"

How
bold, how insane, was she to be in this place all by herself? The druid
tightened her grip upon her staff once more and her lips worked once, twice,
the corners pulling outwards and her mouth thinned while the druid moved
through halls, the familiarity of the place open to her once again and she
tilted her head back, walking steps along pathways that were known to her intimately.
Here, she knew, was where her first steps on her own had been taken. She had
blossomed in this place. Now.. Now it was almost as if
she had never been gone.

Almost.

But
the feel of the Temple had changed. Where Shayl had been able to tolerate it
before, even having begun to heal the blood-soaked stones and halls with the
aid of her shan'do and her own diligent patience, the halls now were
oppressive, the air feeling thick and heavy. Fel magic was free-flowing between
the walls, warlocks and mages constantly practicing their spells. Daemons had
been brought forth here and as her mouth opened, sucking in a deep breath,
Shayl nearly could taste the arcane on her tongue and it was not a pleasant
taste to her. Darkness had seemed to settle into the shambles of the Temple
after her departure and she was not so foolish as to think that it had been her
presence that had left the place more welcoming and open before. Rather, the
state of the Temple seemed, she dared to think, was a reflection upon the
mental state of Illidan. The tread of armored feet spoke of the nearby guards
as they approached and took up an escort about her but not a one said anything,
Shayl noting there were.. there..
no, four separate footsteps. There, she sensed some
staring at her but the druid continued to walk through the Temple, being pulled
along by emotions.

None
dared to stop the druid for none dared to risk Illidan's wrath; many that were
power hungry here, but none so foolish as to throw their lives away. Eyes
widened or narrowed in the faces of those that remembered her and the whispers
of her return were spreading like wildfire. Memories walked with Shayl,
memories of before, when she had been happy in this place. The low thump of her
staff across the stone flooring of the Temple sounded loudly in her ears and
then, as she came to a new area, all the hairs upon the back of her neck stood
on end and Shayl knew.. she
knew he was here. Her mouth and throat were dry as dust and she swallowed hard,
once, twice, chapped lips peeling apart as she came to a slow halt, mouth
working and throat flexing before, finally, her voice was lifted in sound.

"Illidan.."

Said
hybrid was frozen on the throne, the voice that he had longed to hear washing
across his mind like rain upon the parched desert of Tanaris, so to speak. His
mouth came open slowly and he stared, the flaring of bright gold behind his
blindcloth giving the facsimile of widening eyes. It could not be. She would
not return to him. She would not. It was a trick. It was just another
trick by those damnable succubi, though they had done a good job this time with
the appearance of Shayl.

"I
will have the harem mother's head for this!" Illidan snarled suddenly
before he sprang from his throne towards Shayl, slamming her backwards and onto
the ground as his fingers wrapped about her throat. "She has crossed the
line and this will end, now!"

Shayl
gasped as she hit the ground, skull bouncing almost painfully off of the stones
and her helm went clattering away, skidding off to the side and she tried to
breathe but it was hard when there was a hand about one's throat cutting the
air off. Within Illidan, the daemon had awoken fully, howling with joy at the
smell, the touch of that smooth skin and Illidan's fangs were bared, poised to
rip out this imposter's throat as he bent over her. Beneath him, Shayl's hands
fluttered upwards, fingers touching to his chest lightly before falling away as
she gasped for air that seemed to refuse to come, when she felt Illidan's
breath washing over her ear and neck.

"Yesssss.." hissed the hybrid furiously. "This will be the
last of it."

His
mouth opening, Illidan's head jerked downwards before he suddenly stopped,
staring.. No. No, it wasn't her. It wasn't, it wasn't!
She had left, she had gone, leaving him to his miserable fate when she had
departed four years ago but he had won against Arthas so this couldn't be her
it was impossible it just couldn't be her because if it were Shayl then why was
she here and then what had become of Arthas that man that he had defeated for
that was what he had done wasn't it yes it was he had defeated Arthas but if he
had then why was Shayl here now?!

"Illi.. dan.."

The
name came out broken, tattered and ragged on the escaping air from Shayl's
throat and she felt a languorous sense of peace as her head began to stop
swimming and then, suddenly, the pressure on her throat was gone and the
druid's blind eyes shot open wide as she gasped and coughed, sucking in
lungfuls of air as she rolled over, coughing harder and touching her fingers to
her throat where the flesh was already bruising. The guards had made no move,
unsure of what to say or do in this situation before one finally stepped
towards Shayl, only to jump back when Illidan suddenly snarled at him.

"..
Shayl..?"

His
voice was pitched low, tremulous and amazed and the druid's head came up at the
sound of her voice on his lips. And then, she was in his arms again, crying,
laughing and he was kissing her and there were no more words at this moment. She
was back in his arms, they both knew, and perhaps, perhaps he would never let
her go, never again.
- 13
- 14
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