Warcraft 1. Chapter 1

These mornings he did not even wake up in a cold sweat, didn't leap up from his pillows with fear in his throat.

Mikael Sullivan opened his eyes and rolled over, already shaking the memory of his nightmare from his mind. A solid five years of them had left him immune to the paralyzing effects of fear, of waking up drenched and clinging to his bedsheets, of crying out and bringing concerned persons to his door. He swung his bare feet free of his blankets and rested them on the cold stone floor; as always the man looked around his room, noting the bookcase and his desk, his chest of drawers and standing wardrobe. All were where they had been when he'd fallen asleep. All was well.

Five years of habit-forming checking, all due to five years of near-constant nightmares.

He stood and padded over to his desk, picking up a wax-sealed envelope he had placed there the night before; it had come to him late the previous evening, and he'd been too dead on his feet to read it, but now...

Pulling out a thin blade from a desk drawer, he carefully slipped it under the seal and popped it free, then pulled out the letter inside and smiled down at it. Saliea Silvermist's careful handwriting met his gaze as he pulled out his chair and settled into it; flattening the letter on his desk, Mikael reached for a pitcher of water he'd left on his desk the night before and poured a mug, sipping at the stale liquid as he read, rotating his shoulders and feeling the skin across his spine stretch; it felt stiff and unresponsive, as usual, and he adjusted himself in the chair accordingly to reduce the odd feeling.

A fast reader, he quickly took in the letter's contents, and within moments, the contents of his mouth was sprayed against the wall as he reached the end of the letter, actually leaning over to reread the final sentences to make sure he wasn't imagining things.

When he was certain of what he read, the warlock stumbled across to his wardrobe and blindly reached in, pulling out a set of older but comfortable robes, plain ones of a deep blue, and tugging them on even as he shoved his feet into his boots. Now dressed, he hurried across his bedroom and tugged open the door, the letter clutched in his hand, and nearly bowled over a small girl standing directly outside his room.

"Oop - excuse me," he said in a rush, grabbing the doorway with both hands to keep himself from bowling the female over.

She was short, but not as young as he had thought at first; she had shoulder-length blonde hair and bright blue eyes set in a round face, was dressed in simple robes of white linen, and was clutching a sizeable tome to her chest.

"I, uh, you are...Master Sullivan?" she stammered, stepping back far enough that she actually bumped into the wall behind her.

Mikael blinked a moment in silence - he still wasn't quite used to being tied to his surname now - then stood and straightened his robes. "Uh, yes. Mikael Sullivan. And you are?"

"Delana Smithson, s-sir," the girl said, pushing herself away from the wall.

"Well, Ms. Smithson, I'm afraid I'm in a hurry, so..." Mikael said, side-stepping...or moving to do so, only to find his path blocked as the girl quickly stepped into his way. "Was there, ah, was there something you needed?"

The girl swallowed hard, then squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "I humbly ask to be taken on as your apprentice, Master Sullivan. No one is said to be more knowledgeable about the demonic energies commanded by a warlock, and I beg you to teach me."

Inwardly Mikael groaned, but he fixed a smile on his face. "I'm afraid I don't want an apprentice, Ms. Smithson. I'm sorry you came all this way." He went to push passed her, and she clutched at his robe sleeve.

"P-please, Master Sullivan. Please teach me. You know the dark arts, you know of the power of the shadows," she said, seemingly ignoring the now-icy gaze Mikael was giving the hand clutching his arm. "I know I'll make a worthy apprentice, I know-"

"You're rather bold, but I'm not taking any apprentices," Mikael interrupted, tugging himself free. "Now, if you'll excuse me-"

As he turned to leave - to hurry down the hallway, escape into his room, _something -_ she once again grabbed his arm and hung on.

"Let me prove myself to you," she pleaded. "Let me show you I can-"

"_Enough," _Mikael snapped, ripping free from her. "My answer for you is the same answer I've given every snot-nosed brat that's sought me out these last five years: no. No. _No. _I want no apprentice, nothing anyone says shall change my mind on the matter."

With that he spun on his heel and stalked away, sighing heavily when he heard her footsteps pacing along behind him. Sal's letter was clutched forgotten in his hand as he quickened his pace to reach...where had he been going again?

Only when he was standing outside the door to his father's room did he recall, and he tried to keep from outright pounding on the door; the girl, Delana, was still with him and still talking, and after what felt like an eternity to Mikael, James Sullivan opened the door and Mikael greeted him in a hurry as he pushed passed the older man and slammed the door shut in Delana's face.

James stared at his son for a long moment, then raised an eyebrow. "Another one? What does that make?"

"Twenty three over five years," Mikael said dully, dropping onto the edge of the bed. "I'm not certain why they keep coming, I've made it known I'm trying not to use fel magics any longer."

James's room was much like Mikael's, with little furniture and not much room, and so James painfully lowered himself into his desk chair and regarded his son with some amusement, fingers drumming along the carved ivory top of his ever-present cane.

"You know, if you would agree to teach just _one _of them they'd quit coming."

Mikael shook his head. "I don't want to use it anymore, and the knowledge I have of it would only encourage others." With a sigh, he reached to run his fingers through his hair and abruptly remembered why he'd come to his father in the first place. Immediately he was back on his feet, now brandishing the letter at James. "Father, I'm going to be an uncle!"

He nearly added 'again' but quickly remember he hadn't actually told his father about THAT particular nephew... Meraka's letter had come a year or so ago, and he'd kept it quiet about who it had come from.

James looked surprised. "An uncle? The...the little druid?" he asked, and Mikael nodded fervently. The aging paladin smiled. "That's wonderful news."

"Aye, it is," Mikael replied quietly, smiling at the crumpled parchment in his hand. "Three years of marriage, and only just now is she certain she's with child." He smoothed the letter out between his palms, then grinned at James. "She's hoping it's a son, but Sevei hopes for a little girl to spoil."

"And you?" James asked wryly.

Mikael shrugged, then glanced at the door. "...think she's left?"

* * *

Now back in his own room, Delana having been gone from the hallway, Mikael pulled a sheet of blank parchment to himself and grabbed a metal-tipped wooden stylus and a bottle of ink. Carefully dipping the stylus and shaking off the excess, Mikael began to slowly compose his return letter:

_I can't tell you how excited I am to hear about the little one, Saliea. To be honest, I too hope it will be a girl - the world can only be better with the addition of another beautiful creature like you._

_ I am glad to hear the combined efforts of the priestesses of Elune and the paladins from Shattrath were able to lift the binding curse from Donnovan. I wish I could have been there to observe or assist in any way I could - I have a few scribblings in my Book about the original spell, but I either didn't absorb enough information on it in the first place, or it had already mostly faded by the time I penned the Book...either way, the knowledge is now gone and while I'm saddened I couldn't help, I'm relieved there's not enough left of the spell for anyone to use or study._

_ Yes, the skin still pulls. It's not painful, not anymore, but the return to normalcy, as A'dal had put it, has not happened. Even he seems puzzled by certain results of the binding he placed on me - such as the fact I still glow in the dark, a problem more amusing than troublesome, but it's still something he had not anticipated. I'm beginning to wonder exactly how much testing and experimentation went into this blasted spell, and whether I'd just be better off removing it from myself and dealing with the need to release magic every so often._

_ Another would-be apprentice came to my door today, bringing the number to twenty three since I've returned home. She was more pushy than the others, but my answer remained the same. Father insists if I would just teach one, they'd leave me alone but...I don't know. I want to distance myself from the dark magics, and I really don't think teaching suits me. I also _really _don't believe I should share my experiences and ah..."special" knowledge with young persons. I was required to tell my tale, in full, to Highlord Bolvar - in the presence of that Katrana Prestor woman, a sour female who seems to have forgotten how to smile - and he seemed wary of me after I mentioned the demonic possession. Luckily, thanks to my father's presence, it was confirmed I was neither possessed or under the sway of a demon, and so the Highlord allowed me to return to whatever life I could make for myself...yet another problem still, yes._

_ I don't know. I'm happy to be home, glad to be able to live my life without the constant drive for revenge hovering over me. I never realized what a weight that was until I'd returned to Stormwind and realized it was all finally over...and now that it's over, and I have no real ambitions for anything, I feel like I'm languishing here. Wasting my time. I could be doing something else...what, I cannot say, but I have this feeling like I should be doing _something _and I can't for the life of me figure out what. It's an odd feeling to feel both welcomed and happy, and also feel caged and flighty._

_ I shall figure something out soon, I'm sure of it. Your trip to Arathi sounded amazing; I've never been to the highlands myself, but I've heard they're quite beautiful. I bet the old stone henges, where summonings of the elements from long ago occurred, interested your shaman. Hopefully he didn't bore you; did you see the last remaining troll tribe in that area? They're quite hostile, so on second thought I hope you didn't._

_ When can I next expect you in my relative area? Or even, when will you next be heading back to Darnassus? I would like to visit with you and Sevei more than once every six months or so, you realize. Enjoy yourselves in Un'Goro, though be very careful - I've heard rumors of reptiles big enough to swallow a horse whole dwell there._

_ Mikael_

He spread sand over the ink to prevent smudging while it dried and pushed back in his chair, leaning on the back two legs, smoothing out her letter between his palms. Once he'd gotten most of the wrinkles out of the parchment he folded it carefully and reached down to pull open the single drawer to his desk; he placed the folded letter in amongst the others inside the drawer, and actually had to compress them all down to get the drawer shut once more. He smiled at this and shook his head - apparently nearly five years of writing back and forth generated a lot of parchment...he would need a bigger place to store them sooner or later.

He stretched again, frowning at the pull across his spine - damn, stupid binding spell - and then stood; today he had something in mind to do, and needed a bit of time to prepare for it.

An hour or so later, he was settling in the grass beside Koulson Sullivan's grave, a small covered basket and a bouquet of white roses with him. He leaned over and, with a smile, arranged the flowers on the headstone, sitting back on his haunches.

"Hi Mother, felt like you could use some company today," he said, dropping into a cross-legged position as his balance teetered. Reaching into the basket, he pulled out a single red rose, which he dropped at the foot of the grave in a specific spot. "You're welcome to listen in too, Drasai," Mikael said quietly. Pitching his voice low, Mikael recounted all the news from Stormwind, moving to arrange himself so he leaned against the gravestone; he noted he still had no feeling in the skin over his spine, a strip of about three inches wide running from the base of his skull to his tailbone that couldn't tell he was leaning against the cool stone. He mentally reminded himself to include that in his next correspondence to A'dal - he'd also need to note that this was the first time he'd consciously noticed the lack of feeling.

"Yet another thing to confuse the naaru with," Mikael chuckled, shaking his head. "Add that to the ever-growing list of things I've confused them with." With another chuckle, he then went on to recount the letter he'd gotten from Sal, smiling fondly.

"I hope it's a girl," he added. "I can't believe I'm going to be an uncle. How would an uncle even act? Do I get the right to spoil her rotten? Wonder what they'll name her, if it is indeed a girl..."

With a sigh, he leaned his head back and stared up into the tree limbs crisscrossing overhead; the sun ducked behind a cloud, throwing the area into total shade. Birds flew high, so high that they were little more than dark specks against the backdrop of clouds, and the gentlest of breezes was blowing. Koulson's grave had always been peaceful, one of the reasons why she had been buried here instead of the graveyard in Goldshire.

Mikael blinked rapidly as the sun came back and momentarily blinded him; he blinked spots from his vision, then frowned when a single splotch refused to disappear. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes, then looked around again. The spot seemed to have disappeared, so he laid back once more...and the spot came back. So, it wasn't his eyes, it was something in the sky.

Now squinting, all Mikael could see was the vague dark dot against the blue sky; it wasn't moving, so it wasn't a bird. A mild sense of alarm came over him, and he instinctively reached for his belt, hand closing over where a certain sword hilt _should _have been even though he knew the hilt he sought was embedded in the nearby gravestone. Flexing his empty hand, he sat on his knees and waited, eyes on the sky.

Several long moments passed, and, more to have something to do rather than out of actual hunger, Mikael reached a hand blindly into the covered basket and pulled out a hunk of bread. Eyes still skyward, he tore off a small chunk and chewed slowly; the dot overhead was taking on a shape as it drew closer, once again reminding him of a bird.

Finally, it came close enough for him to see it, and he was surprised to note that it really _was _a bird, plummeting from the sky and headed right for him.

Blinking, Mikael dropped his bread and grabbed the basket, pulling off the cloth covering and dumping out a small waterskin, then he stood and hefted the basket in his hands. Squinting up, Mikael positioned himself to attempt to catch the bird, but it seemed to be slowing in its descent. It was definitely a bird, and a pure white one at that; not a bird native to this area then.

He dropped the basket as, to his surprise, the bird pulled up - far too fast for any living creature to have accomplished - and hovered in front of him.

It was a pure white bird, with a small orange beak and beady black eyes, and was watching him expectantly. Mikael cautiously stuck a hand out to it, and cried out in alarm when the bird exploded in a spray of feathers and a musical chirp.

"Greetings Mikael," emanated a voice from the middle of the mess of floating feathers. The voice was familiar, and after his heartbeat returned to normal, he shook his head.

"I guess Meraka made a new toy," he muttered, flexing his hands and frowning when he noticed they were trembling still with adrenaline.

"Yes, a new toy," the feathers chuckled, causing the warlock to jump again. A breeze he couldn't feel ruffled through the feathers, and they spun about and formed a rough outline of a face with a mouth. As he watched, the mouth opened and from there the voice came. "I am on the other side of this spell at this moment, Mikael. A new sort of magical messenger service; the bird will seek the recipient without fail and upon finding them, burst to allow the speaking spell to activate. A rather clever spell, if I do say so myself, though I do admit Thrall and those with him were a tad startled when the bird burst."

"Is it an actual bird?" Mikael asked, poking at the feathers with a hand as he stepped closer.

"Good heavens, no," Meraka laughed, the feathered-face shaking and spinning away from his hand. "It's merely an enchanted pile of dove feathers." The face fell apart a moment, then spun back together. "I hope I find you well?"

"I'm as well as I was the last you spoke with me."

"That was quite a bit ago, if memory serves."

Mikael shrugged. "I suppose. I can't really keep track of time anymore."

"Did you make use of the primer I sent you?"

"I'm beginning to see how Sal picked up Orcish so quickly," Mikael said dryly. "All your race does is grunt and bark at one another."

He was surprised to see the feather-face stick a feathered tongue out at him. "You would think that. I swear my son has farted a lok'tra once or twice. Depends on how you're listening, truthfully. I'm still more comfortable speaking Common than I am Orcish, something I think is part of what irks my rivals here in Orgrimmar."

"Not all that surprising," Mikael said with another shrug. "So. Are you just testing a new spell out on me, or did you need something?"

"Actually, I have some news for you, but it is better delivered in person."

Mikael stared blankly at the face hanging in the air before him. "What?"

"Come to Orgrimmar. When can you leave?"

"Uh," Mikael stammered, rocking back on his heels. "Orgrimmar? Why?"

"I promise you won't be dragged in by guards this time," the orc chuckled. "Trust me. Thrall has given his permission for you to pass through any Horde-held territory and town you may come across. He actually would like to converse with you some."

"About Drasai?"

"About Drasai."

Mikael bit his lip, thinking. He really didn't have anything to do, nothing much was keeping him here - his father was here, but the man had gone several years without Mikael being around, and so his leaving again wouldn't be much of an issue. James would be fine if Mikael left for a bit...hell, he was fine now even with Mikael being here. The paladins took care of their own, and one as well-liked as James was certainly going to be looked after.

"Why do I need to come to Orgrimmar?" he asked finally.

"I want to show you rather than tell," Meraka said.

Mikael sighed. "I, well...I guess I could leave within the week." He caught himself mentally checking to be sure he had nothing to do - who was he fooling? Of course he had nothing else to do. "You realize I'll have to travel the slow way, correct?"

"I am aware of that, yes. I considered coming to get you myself, but Thrall requires my presence here. Will you travel through the Menethil Harbor or Booty Bay?"

"Uh...if my memory is correct, I believe Ratchet is closer to Durotar?"

The feather-face nodded. "That is correct. I shall send someone to meet you in Booty Bay then."

"I guess that's settled then. I shall be seeing you soon."

"One more thing: bring what remains of Spellcleaver."

Mikael sent the face a sharp look. "What?"

"Bring Spellcleaver with you."

"But..."

"I know what you did with it, but trust me. You must bring it with you."

"But..." he said again, looking down at Koulson's grave, where the hilt of Spellcleaver, all that remained of the amazing sword, twinkled up at him in the sun. "I don't know if I can..."

The face let out an exasperated sigh. "If you don't bring it, that will certainly put a damper on what I wish to show you, but I suppose it is ultimately your choice."

"I'll...I'll think about it," he said quietly.

"See that you do," the feathers snapped grumpily. "I shall have someone waiting for you in Booty Bay."

"I guess it's settled then. I'll be seeing you soon."

The magical breeze ruffled the feathers again and the face shape began to fall away. "Indeed. I bet Murto will be happy to see you again."

"And I bet Ortok can't wait to beat the stuffing out of me," Mikael said with a snort as the feathers fell from the air and landed in the grass in a pile with 'bring Spellcleaver!' echoing through the trees.

So. He was heading to Orgrimmar it would seem. He hadn't a clue what Meraka could possibly want to show him, nor did he know why it was so important for him to bring Spellcleaver with him. Inhaling deeply, he flopped into the grass and began to poke idly at the feathers left there by Meraka's spell.

"Well," he said finally, turning to look at the gravestone. "You heard the conversation, Mother. What do you think?"

Silence met him, all that he had expected to hear, honestly. He smiled to himself, and leaned to kiss the gravestone gently. "It's okay, I wasn't expecting an answer. I'll sleep on it...decide what I want to do in the morning."

He scooped the feathers up into a pile and stuffed them into his basket, tossing in the waterskin and covering it once more. He left what was left of his bread for the actual birds, then stood and dusted his knees off. He had taken seven steps when he heard a high, clear tone, something that sounded a lot like the wooden flutes he'd heard play at Saliea's and Sevei's wedding.

Immediately he turned around, eyes scanning his surroundings. Had someone followed him out here? Koulson was buried in a relatively secluded spot outside of Goldshire, so no one should 'happen' by him - someone had to be out there, but what reason would they have to hide?

Mikael dropped the basket and spent several moments searching the area, finding no trace of anyone besides himself, and no sign of anything that could have made that tone. Quietly, he picked up his basket and left, wondering if the flute-music had been a leftover from Meraka's spell, and vowing to ask her when he got the chance.

After Mikael had left, the soft musical tone he had heard sounded again, this time accompanied by a rattle. The gravestone shook as the tone came again, and the hilt of Spellcleaver rattled in the stone; with a heave, the stone itself seemed to spit the weapon out. Spellcleaver dropped from the gravemarker and landed, partially hidden, in the bouquet of roses below it, leaving a cross-shaped hole beneath Koulson's name.

* * *

The water felt amazing against her skin as she slid into the spring, not even batting an eyelash at the biting cold water. She was getting clean and that was all that mattered; wading out, Sal let her feet leave the bottom and began to float, resisting the urge to roll to her back and laze around.

A footstep behind her made her turn, and she couldn't help but smile mischievously when she saw the source. A male draenei, HER male draenei, dove gracefully into the water and disappeared with hardly a splash; she waited expectantly, and sure enough felt him coming up underneath her.

With a smile the druid twisted in the water as his hands slipped around her waist, and planted a kiss on his lips when he finally surfaced.

"We're here to clean, not to play," she said, tracing her fingers down his chest, meeting the familiar touch of the old scar that crossed his chest from his left shoulder to his right hip. The draenei wore it proudly, a reminder of when he and Saliea had first met in a prison in Orgrimmar; the scar was beginning to fade, but still cearly there.

Sevei grinned at her. "Who says we cannot do both?"

She shoved her palms flat against him and shoved him away. "I say we cannot, because we are due back in Darnassus by tomorrow evening. Any delaying on our part will make us arrive late, and you know how my fathers worry."

The shaman pouted but swam away some, eying her as she began to clean the grit of travel off her.

"Don't just gawk, clean. You see me naked enough as is," she said dryly, peering at him from over her shoulder.

"Is it so bad I like to admire you?" he chuckled, sticking his tongue out at her and turning his back to her.

"You do more than admire me when we're alone," she teased, ducking under the surface.

Sevei, his reply on the tip of his tongue, waited patiently for her to come back up; several long moments passed and she didn't surface. With a grin, he ducked beneath the water and began to search. He didn't bother casting a spell of water breathing on himself as he had decent lung capacity, but long before his lungs even began to tickle he saw and felt a dark shape brush by between his feet.

Floating in place, Sevei watched as Saliea, a sleek sea lion, glided up to him and bumped her nose against his chest. He pointed up, and began to propel himself to the surface, Sal dancing along in his wake. When his head was above water, he flicked his hair out of his face.

"I thought we weren't here to play?"

"I changed my mind," came her reply.

What could only have been hours later, the two were stretched out on the bank of the spring, wrapped together in a warm blanket with their clothing and armor laid out to dry nearby. Sevei's hair was unbound and hung over one shoulder; Saliea combed fingers through her own hair and fiddled around with the idea of braiding it, then just twirled it together and let it hang over a shoulder.

Under the blanket they were nude, and the close contact along with the blanket warded off the early-evening chill. His hands found her stomach and he hugged her tightly, pressing his mouth to the skin just behind her ear.

Giggling, she swatted at him. "That tickles and you know it."

"That's why I do it," came his muffled reply.

She turned her head away from him and, chuckling, he sat up and let her lean against him; he let a hand slide down to her hips while the other remained on her stomach.

"I hope it's a daughter," he said quietly.

Her hands moved up to cover his hand on her stomach. "It will be a son."

"How can you know that?"

"Woman's intuition, and a mother's hope," she said with a smile. "Besides, the last thing you need is another female to dote on."

He smiled and tilted his head back, looking up at the sky; the stars were just beginning to show, and the faint songs of insects were just beginning to be audible. Closing his eyes, the shaman sent his senses outward, seeking any sign of danger but finding none - this quiet little spring on the very edge of Ashenvale and Auberdine was free from corruption, conflict, and the need for caution.

For now, anyhow.

Just to be certain, Sevei asked the earth to warn him of anything that may harm him and his wife, and his unborn child. The surrounding spirits assured him they would, and also congratulated him and Saliea on the upcoming birth. He chuckled and told them it would be several months before they welcomed their little one to the world, but thanked them anyhow.

For a few hours they sat in comfortable silence listening to the sounds of the night; finally, Saliea wriggled free of Sevei and, with a playful grin, tugged the blanket from him and walked toward the base of a nearby tree.

"Bed time...coming?" she asked innocently.

Sevei, with a grumpy mumble, hurried after her.

* * *

The next morning found Mikael kneeling in numb surprise at his mother's gravesite. Fingers trembling, he traced the outline of Spellcleaver still left in the headstone, the hilt laying in full view just beneath it, the roses sat to one side and forgotten.

"I guess I have my answer then, Mother," he said softly, resting a hand on top of the stone.

Carefully he picked up the hilt of Spellcleaver and rested it in his palm, then slipped his hand around it. It felt so familiar, he could almost imagine the full blade. Standing, he took a few swings, then fell into a fighting stance and jabbed at a few imaginary enemies.

"I miss you, old friend," he said to the hilt, hefting it. He hadn't picked up another sword since Spellcleaver's destruction - it almost felt wrong to do so, even just thinking about it. Smiling down at the rubied hilt, he slid it into his belt and wondered what Meraka could possibly want with it...and how in the world the hilt had come out of the gravestone in the first place.

Later on that afternoon, Mikael prepared to leave for Orgrimmar. His father sat on the edge of his bed, watching him pack.

"You know. It's about time you got moving," James said thoughtfully.

Mikael, in the midst of stuffing his cloak into his knapsack, looked at him in surprise. "What?"

The man drummed his fingers on his cane, eying his son. "Don't think I haven't noticed how depressed you've been. You have been for a while."

"I'm not depressed," Mikael muttered. "Just...bored."

"You mope about, you stay in your room with your nose buried in books you show no real interest in," James went on, waggling a finger. "You're depressed, son. You still have wanderlust in you."

"I - wait, what?"

"Wanderlust, boy," the older man said with a chuckle. "You've traveled some of the world, yes, but there's a burning desire in you to get out there and see more. City life, the life of a scholar, isn't suited for you. You need to be out and about, finding adventure, seeing what there is to be seen."

Mikael rolled his eyes. "What makes you say that?"

"Because you've been miserable these last...few years," James said, voice trailing off suddenly. "You know...if I had to count back the time when you first began moping about, I'd have to say-"

"Don't," Mikael said sharply. "I know what's about to come out of your mouth, and I'm telling you, don't say it."

"-that it began shortly after Saliea became married," James finished, snorting. "Don't tell me you still dwell on her?"

"That's none of your business," came the sharp reply. "I know she's a married woman, she's just a friend to me."

"She obviously means more than that if her marriage depressed you," James pressed. "Mikael, son, you have to forget about her."

Mikael angrily shoved his cloak into his pack and snapped it shut silently. Flinging it to his back, he turned away from his father and found himself facing his desk instead. The letter to Sal sat there still; he quickly brushed the sand off and folded it, finding a heavy envelope and dropping it inside. He didn't need to address it, as all his letters had to go through the hands of Fandral Staghelm in Darnassus - the Archdruid was the only one who seemed to always know how to get ahold of Saliea - and this envelope was already addressed. With this clutched in hand, he turned for the door.

"Easier said than done," he muttered as he left the room.

James watched him go, sighing heavily. He'd guessed - correctly - that his son had cared deeply for this Saliea Silvermist upon hearing Mikael recount his tale from Outland. He also knew that Mikael and the druid had been writing back and forth, as evidenced by the letter announcing her pregnancy.

He sighed and shook his head, left the room and locked it behind him, then limped his way into the main chambers of the Cathedral, looking up at the altar.

"Light be with you, Mikael."

* * *

An hour or so later, Mikael was on the back of a gryphon that would take him as far as the northern tip of Stranglethorn.

"If you deliver this package for me, the flight's free," the gryphon master had explained.

So, Mikael was off for a so-called rebel camp just inside Stranglethorn Vale; from there it would be a few days' ride south, to the goblin city of Booty Bay. He hoped whomever was waiting on him was patient.


	2. Chapter 2

Hours later, with the sounds of birds and the occasional roar of one of the large jungle cats he'd been warned about, Mikael sat down to eat with the inhabitants of the simply-named Rebel Camp in the northern area of Stranglethorn.

Niles, a grizzled, older man with wild gray hair and beard, sat next to him as they ate their dinner, a simple meal of flame-cooked meat and raw vegetables. Niles was a paladin stationed there to tend to the injuries of the rebels; what the self-named rebels were doing there they wouldn't discuss with Mikael, but they were willing to chat with him about other things.

"And the shadowcats, watch out for those," Niles was saying, tearing into his meat.

Mikael swallowed a mouthful of a tuber - it tasted strongly of almonds - and looked at him curiously. "Shadowcats?"

"Big panther beasts. Don't know what they're actually named, but that's what we call them. Could be sitting right in front of you on a sunny day and you wouldn't see it. Mean things. Will eat you before you even know one's there."

Mikael nodded and added 'shadowcat' to the long list of things they had told him to be wary of in the jungle: big apes, feral troll tribes, ogres, murlocs, tigers, panthers, poisonous snakes, and those were just the things they had encountered - there was no telling what else might be out there. He was beginning to question his choice of getting a free flight in exchange for dropping off a package here.

"So long as you stick to the road, you'll be all right," Niles said with a small burp. "Most critters here avoid the road, the only ones you'll have to watch out for are the trolls and the cats."

Nodding, Mikael took a swig of water from his waterskin and finished eating. Those in the camp were settling in for the night, unrolling tents and bedrolls. Mikael waved away their offer for bedding and pulled his own things from his knapsack - he tended to sleep only with a thin later of something between him and the ground, and even then slept wrapped in his cloak, a habit he had picked up from his several years' search for Datavian. It was much easier to toss a cloak aside than try to disentangle himself from a bedroll if he had to move and move quickly.

They lit smokey torches around the border of the camp to ward off insects, disposed of the remains of their meals, and settled in for bed. As Mikael was just rolling himself into his cloak, he heard footsteps and heard Niles greet someone nearby. Sitting up, Mikael turned around to see, to his surprise, a female troll conversing with the paladin.

She was a pale green and had delicate tusks for a troll, and had dark blue hair that was tied back in a disheveled ponytail at the nape of her neck. She spoke with Niles, but with a suddenness that startled Mikael, her gaze snapped to him. Her eyes were a deep red, and she stared with an intensity that made Mikael feel uncomfortable.

Niles followed the troll's gaze and saw him sitting up, and nodded to him.

"That is Mikael Sullivan, he's traveling through here, leaving in the morning. This is Jin'Loki, one of our scouts for the troll tribes - and don't tell anyone I told you that," he added in a low tone.

Mikael swallowed hard - she was still _staring _at him - and tried to smile. "Uh...nice to meet you."

"Aka'Magosh, Mikael Sullivan," she said, her voice rough and low-pitched, like she'd been kicked in the throat. "You sure you wanna let him go by hisself tru' the jungle?"

"He seems capable enough, and he'll be remaining on the road," Niles said. "Since when are you concerned with humans?" he added with a chuckle.

Jin'Loki, still staring intently at Mikael, grinned - it was a sinister-looking grin, one that Niles didn't seem to notice. "Da cats smell blood. One fresh kill anywhere near camp will bring dem in on us. I'll guide him."

"That's...that's okay," Mikael said, smiling faintly. "I'll be fine on my own."

"I go to Booty Bay anyhow - need to speak with some friends o' mine."

Mikael nodded - he could see no way out of it - and settled back on his haunches, smoothing out the durable blanket he used as a bedroll. "All right then, I'll...I'll be glad for the company."

"We leave at dawn."

"Yeah, dawn."

He rolled into his cloak and curled up, his back to the troll and to Niles as they both returned to their conversation.

* * *

The following morning found him and Jin'Loki preparing for departure; Mikael had summoned his dreadsteed and was tying his knapsack to the saddle. Jin'Loki was grinning ferally at the fiery horse, while Niles seemed a bit unsettled to be standing by it.

"Have a swift, safe journey."

Mikael nodded and, with a slight wariness, offered a hand to Jin'Loki. The troll took his hand and easily swung herself up behind him, wrapping arms around his waist.

"Cozy," she rasped into his ear.

He cleared his throat without commenting and urged the dreadsteed into a trot; once they were out of the camp, he pushed it into a gallop and they raced down the road. After a while, the troll's presence became less unsettling to Mikael; he chalked it up to being unused to the species - after all, the only one he'd ever met that didn't ooze the barely-buried urge to kill him had been Kakum.

The jungle flashed by, movement only barely noticeable under the darkened areas of the trees. Jin'Loki fidgeted on the mount behind him, her fingers drumming on his waist.

""Do you have to do that?" he asked finally, elbowing one of her hands away.

"I am curious, human."

"About what?"

"This..."

Mikael stiffened as she ran fingers up and down his back, over his spine, and then pulled his hair aside to reveal the visible bit of the binding spell there.

"What is it?"

Mikael roughly elbowed her in the ribs, the troll hissing at the contact. "Don't touch me. And its none of your business."

"I think it may be my business. I think it may very well be my business, and useful. Do tell me what this is, because if my guess is correct...well, I'd be a fool to let you slip away."

Mikael swung a fist back at her even as he felt the dagger slip into his side. Immediately following the pain came a strange numbness that began to radiate out from the puncture; Mikael's fist solidly connected, however, and the troll tumbled off the back of the dreadsteed with a grunt. He turned the dreadsteed around and found her under its hooves; the troll grunted loudly as something snapped and she fell to the ground and was forced to roll away.

Mikael again reached for a sword that wasn't there, and even still he felt himself growing slow and sluggish – the blade must have been poisoned, and the numbness was spreading rapidly.

"You bitch," he muttered, while he still had control over his mouth. The rest of his body was now numb and unresponsive, and the troll struggled to her feet and reached up to balance him on the back of the dreadsteed so he wouldn't topple forward and off.

Jin'Loki, panting and limping, heavily favoring a leg, guided the steed off the road and into the jungle; Mikael at first thought they wouldn't go far, as the foliage was thick and the tree roots turned the ground into a dangerous tangle, but the troll deftly guided the dreadsteed through the trees and into a secluded area, nestled at the base of a short cliff. Her red eyes searched the area, nodding.

"This is as good a spot as any," she said finally, reaching up to seize the front of his clothing.

She began to drag him, first from the dreadsteed's back and then pulling him along with little effort; she pulled him away from the base of the cliff and his dreadsteed and laid him, face-down, between the upraised roots of a tree. She twisted his head around, pulling it from the dirt so he could breathe, and then bent over him.

"Let's have a look at what you're hiding, hmm? I can sense it...I can sense you may be just what I need."

He couldn't even see her hands from where he lay paralyzed on the ground, but he felt her brush his hair away and begin to slide that dagger under his shirt. He heard material tear as she began to cut away his clothing, but then what seemed like a wave of pressure washed over them – Mikael felt himself sink into the grass he lay on, felt his breath pushed out of him as the wave passed by. The sawing at his clothing stopped, and he heard Jin'Loki shuffling her feet – was she looking around for the source of the sudden pressure? He couldn't tell, he could not see her, but then, a moment later, a second wave blasted over them; Mikael was pressed down on so hard his vision began to swim, dark dots dancing in front of his eyes. He had time enough to swallow before a third wave struck, and this time Mikael blacked out entirely.

After some time Mikael opened his eyes and found his vision clear; he was fairly certain he was awake again, but the figure that awaited him at the base of the cliff told him he was still dreaming.

"You're dead," he told the figure, narrowing his eyes.

Datavian sat on his haunches, watching Mikael silently with a deadpan expression. "You never found my body."

The same thing his brother had said in every nightmare these last five years. _You never found my body._ Further evidence Mikael was dreaming.

"We tried. The demons carried you off."

"You never found my body. You never even tried."

"I tried, damnit, I tried!"

The Datavian at the base of the cliff shook his head, and look haggard and tired. He waved his hand, and Mikael could only watch helplessly as a familiar cloud of white mist floated toward him. Madly cursing Jin'Loki – and where had the troll gone, anyhow? - Mikael held his breath as long as he could before finally forced to inhale, and inhaled the sleep spell.

As he was fading back into darkness, he wondered why his body was still paralyzed, even if this was another nightmare.

* * *

His eyes snapped open, his mouth open and gasping for breath, mind scrambling to call up a spell of defense as he spied the dark figure bending over him.

"Master, it's me!"

Mikael swallowed down the spell he nearly lobbed into Elervina's face as the succubus swam into focus. She was leaning over him, one hand resting on his head and the other cautiously hovering over his chest.

Wait, why was he on his back now? Gasping faintly, Mikael went to move and found his arms pinned to his sides by his cloak – how had he managed that? Jin'Loki had just dropped him, and if she'd been sawing at the back of his shirt the cloak should have been anywhere but wrapped around him. He rested his weight on the back of his head and arched his back, flexing and feeling the cloak loosen; Elervina helped tug it from around him, and Mikael let himself drop back to his blanket, still panting and feeling a light sprinkling of sweat across his forehead.

He looked around, and felt his stomach clench when he realized he was still in the rebel camp.

"Another nightmare, I'm assuming," Elervina said, pitching her voice low and bending closer to him.

"Yes, another nightmare. Should that really surprise you?" Mikael snapped, then immediately felt bad for it. "Er...I'm sorry, Elervina. Just a little shaken." He inhaled, then exhaled slowly and steeled himself, and looked around.

The camp was like it had been before he'd fallen asleep. At first he wondered if he'd dreamed meeting Jin'Loki as well, but a quick glance around the camp and he found her, laying spread-eagled on the ground, partially covered with a light blanket and snoring loud enough it was a wonder she didn't wake the people sleeping around her.

Beside him Elervina shifted and cocked her head to the side, eying him. "You haven't woken up like that in ages...what was it about this one that bothered you?"

"...it was nothing," he said, eyes still on Jin'Loki.

Finally, rubbing his eyes wearily, Mikael looked up and gauged he still had a few hours before dawn, so he dismissed Elervina ("quit coming to me without being summoned") and settled back down. He doubted he'd fall back asleep, but was determined to lay there - at the very least, no more nightmares would plague him tonight.

As he rolled to try and find a comfortable position, he reached a hand up and felt along the collar of his shirt; it was whole, no signs of having been cut with a blade.

Stomach still tied in knots, Mikael laid back to wait until morning.

* * *

The familiar twilight of Darnassus fell over them as they appeared in the teleportation gate in the city from Rut'theran Village. Their mounts, a mated pair of silver talbuks that had been a wedding gift from Sevei's parents, picked up their pace as they recognized home.

Saliea smiled and patted the neck of her talbuk. "Easy Greymark, we're nearly there."

The female snorted and tossed her horned head, and her mate Bracas brayed and sped up, Sevei chuckling and letting the male do as he wished. Saliea smiled and let Greymark trot after her mate, inhaling deeply as the usual noises of Darnassus reached them. Sentinels greeted the two as they rode across a short bridge that spanned across one of the numerous branches of the lake that was in the center of the night elf city; the great, dog-shaped tree that the elves had converted into storage vaults loomed ahead of them, and the couple immediately headed to their left, toward the towering trees where the Cenarion druids dwelled.

As they were approaching another bridge, a large mixed group of humanoids - comprised mainly of humans and dwarves of both genders - began to cross from the other side, taking up the entire structure. Sal and Sevei pulled their mounts to the side to allow the group to pass before they crossed, and as the others drew closer, a human in the middle of them caught Sal's eye.

She eyed the male closely, noting the armor and then finally the face; face going blank, Sal dismounted and approached them.

"Git out o' the way, lass," one of the dwarves yelled at her, chuckling. "Or we be runnin' ye over."

She waved him aside and strode toward the man, having not taken her gaze off him since dismounting. The males all hooted and cat-called, and Sal spared a moment to signal Sevei to stay put (the draenei was obviously not appreciating some of the things coming out of those mens' mouths) and then after shoving a female human out of her way, she stood solidly and blocked the one man's path.

Peering into his face, her eyes narrowed.

"Roland."

"Do I know you?" the human asked warily, staring down at her.

"How many short night elves do you know?"

He was silent a moment, then his face lit up in recognition - and immediately changed to one of false cheeriness. "Right! Saliea! How are you? Eh heh, looks like you've done well for yourself...uh...how's uh, how's your brother? A-alive, I hope?" he gulped. He looked for support from those standing around him, but suddenly found the bridge empty of his companions; glancing around wildly he saw they'd separated to both ends of the bridge, all watching with eager grins on their faces.

"Oh, he's alive, no thanks to you," she said slowly. She took a step forward, and Roland took two steps back. "He's alive. He's well. And I do believe you owe us."

"O-owe you?" he stammered. "Whatever for? I p-paid you to escort me to the caverns and then back to the port. We didn't make it b-back to the p-port, so technically you didn't f-finish...the...job," he said, trailing off when she smiled suddenly.

"No, I suppose we didn't," she said thoughtfully, still smiling.

Roland smiled back nervously. "So, I'll just be g-going then, shall I? No debt to settle. Off we go on our merry ways - our _separate _merry ways."

"Oh, no, there's a debt to settle just yet. I'm afraid it's _I _who owes _you, _however," she said, still smiling sweetly. Before the paladin could move, Sal reached up and seized his collar. "I owe you, _big time."_

Her first punch, pulling him toward her as she swung, caught him in the jaw and snapped his head back. The second splattered his nose across his face, and the third shattered some teeth. By the time Roland finally pulled enough of his senses together to think to shield his face, Sal had him on the ground and was swinging in again. Abruptly he felt her weight - slight as it was - pulled off her, and he groaned as he rolled over, blood gushing from his nose and mouth and hearing his companions laughing and hooting wildly.

A pair of hooves entered his field of vision, and he blearily looked up to see a draenei standing over him - the male the druid had been riding with. Roland let the male hook his hands under his armpits and haul him to his feet; he gratefully accepted the handkerchief the draenei offered him, and dabbed at his throbbing, bleeding nose.

"Are you okay?"

"Nob welwee," Roland grunted. "Supad betch boke ma nobse."

The draenei grunted slightly at that, and tilted his head as he regarded the human. "You are Roland, the man who left Tebrion and Saliea to their fate in the Barrens?"

"Hay, we wer unner agack, ebry man fa imelf," Roland snapped, jabbing a finger into Sevei's chest.

"That's not very paladin-like."

"Pawadins er wek, supad fuls. I lef da orrer ta pasoo ma for'uns on ma own terms."

Sevei's eyes narrowed in the slightest, then he nodded. "My parents are paladins...they are not weak, stupid fools." He turned, to look back where Saliea was standing - obviously fuming, but wiping Roland's blood from her fingers with a cloth she'd acquired from one of the onlookers - and then he smiled...to Roland, it was not a nice smile. "And the 'stupid bitch,' as you put it, happens to be my wife."

It was an open-handed slap, but Roland might as well been struck by a charging bull; the human was lifted from his feet and launched over the edge of the bridge, disappearing under the water below. When the ex-paladin surfaced, sputtering and cursing, Saliea and Sevei were across the bridge and heading toward the Cenarion Enclave to the applause of those who had been with Roland.

"I told ye ye'd get what ye was owed if ye kept it up. Ye earned what ye got, ye horse's ass," they faintly heard one of the dwarves tell Roland as they hauled him out of the water behind them.

"That," Sal said suddenly, staring straight ahead, "felt amazing."

* * *

Saliea was folded into a hug upon entering Fandral Staghelm's quarters; the Archdruid nodded at Sevei - which, for the Archdruid, was a rather warm welcome for anyone other than his foster daughter - and then gestured that they seat themselves before his desk.

"You are later than I had expected," Fandral said, eying them.

Sal nodded. "We traveled to Arathi like you asked us to, then returned to Menethil, and..." she trailed off, looking to Sevei.

"In Menethil we caught wind of missing persons in Theramore," Sevei continued. "In Theramore, three men, a little girl, and an elderly woman have disappeared without a trace." The draenei shifted in his chair, digging in his backpack and pulling out a thick packet of parchment. "From _there _we traveled across the Barrens, spoke briefly with Brock who informed us that a tauren druid had gone missing in Ashenvale, and then returned here." He handed the packet to Fandral, who took it and, with a heavy sigh, sat it on the edge of his desk.

"I'm assuming the druid left no sign of where he had gone as well?"

Both Sal and Sevei shook their heads, and the Archdruid sighed heavily once again.

"The name of this missing druid?"

"Windleaf Songflower, if I remember correctly," Sal said. "Female tau-"

"Yes, yes, female tauren," Fandral interrupted, waving a hand. "She is one of my Cenarions, I know of her - knew of her, I should say."

"You don't know if she - or any other person who is missing - is dead," Sal said dryly.

"As cleanly as they have disappeared, that might be a wise assumption," Staghelm replied, suddenly looking incredibly old. He gestured at the packet they'd given him. "Another six names to add to the list, and nothing, not a trace, left to point us in the correct direction."

"Have you spoken to Bolvar, and to Velen and Magni?"

Fandral nodded. "I have received responses from them as well. Disappearances around Azuremyst and Ironforge have been few, but the population is low – they may very well be suffering the same rate of disappearances as the rest of Azeroth, only with the current population spread over very wide or remote areas, reporting anyone missing may be more difficult." He stood and began to pace. "There is no pattern to the disappearances...people seem to be taken at random." With an irritated sigh, he dropped back into his seat.

"That aside," he said sharply, back to his usual perpetual-annoyance mood, "you, dear foster daughter, I now _kindly _request remain in Darnassus."

Saliea groaned and rested her head in her hands. "Not this again..."

Sevei looked at her, eyebrow raising. "Not 'what' again, dear?"

Sal peeked out at him from between her fingers. "It's nothing to be concerned over, Fandral is just being his overbearing, bossy, typical self."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Fandral said coolly, tenting his fingers together and gazing at them from over them. "She is with child."

"I'm aware of that," Sevei said, now looking between the two. "Is...is something wrong with the...?"

"No, the child is fine and so am I," Sal said firmly, directing the last bit at Fandral. "It's just...well. He's being overly worried."

"My concerns are legitimate."

"But misplaced. I know the risks, _father, _perhaps even better than you."

Sevei cleared his throat. "Sorry, but what are you talking about? What is wrong?"

Sal dropped her hands into her lap. "Every night elf female, whether they show any indication toward the druidic path or not, is taught from very early in their youth the..._risks _a druid female takes when she becomes pregnant." She sighed heavily. "I'm still a few months away from the point where shifting becomes a danger-"

"A danger?" Sevei interrupted sharply, turning in his seat to face her.

Sal grasped at the air, like she was trying to pull her words from it. "It's...well, at a certain time of the pregnancy, shifting forms becomes dangerous. For both mother and child. If I were to try changing my form towards my due date, I would risk a premature birth caused by the rearranging of my form." She shut her eyes. "I have heard of druids using such a tactic to prevent unwanted births, but it is really very dangerous."

Opening her eyes, she saw Sevei staring at her with a look of terror on his pale face. Immediately she leaned over and grasped his hand tightly. "I have been taught from the time I could speak about the problems concerning druids and birth, my love," she said softly. "I know what I am doing. Do not let Fandral scare you."

"The thought of anything that could take you from me frightens me," he replied, squeezing her fingers gently. "Losing you and our child would destroy me."

"You won't," she said simply, smiling. She stood, her hand falling from his, and turned a stern glare on her foster father. "And don't let anything this horn-head tells you convince you otherwise."

Fandral returned the glare and then shook his head. "I would really be _comforted _if you would heed me and remain in Darnassus. Donnovan can easily take your place-"

"If she remains here, so do I," Sevei said dryly.

"_Fine,_ Donnovan can replace you _both _as my eyes and ears," Fandral said icily.

"We don't _need _to be replaced, not yet," Sal growled. "I am not made of glass-"

"But your child might as well be," Fandral shot back. "What if you find what has been causing these disappearances? What if _you _disappear?"

"I won't-"

"You don't know that. I almost couldn't bring myself to send you out _before _I knew you were pregnant, and now that I _do _know I am not about to place you at risk from ANYTHING." Fandral's stern face melted suddenly into one of weary parental concern. "I...I do not want to have a repeat of Salindra and Donnovan...your child deserves parents, BOTH parents."

Sal sighed and reached across the desk to squeeze one of his hands. "It won't be a repeat of my parents. Sevei and I take care of one another."

"I know," was the simple reply. Staghelm abruptly stood and looked at them both. "Go. Eat and rest. I will contact you in the morning with my decision."

Sevei stood and followed as Saliea left the room; Fandral watched them go, then turned as a shadow detached from the wall.

"You certainly have been taking a lot of fatherly liberties lately," Donnovan said, hopping the druid's desk and settling into the chair Sevei had vacated a moment earlier.

"Because she won't listen to you or to Tanyion," Fandral sighed. "I'm amazed Tanyion managed to raise her as well as he did."

"She's a big girl, Fandral," Donnovan sighed, resting his boots on the desk and tipping back his chair - and almost toppling over when Fandral shoved at his feet ("Off," the druid ordered bluntly.) "You have to let children live their own lives sometime."

The Archdruid rubbed his temples. "Cenarius help me, I _will _do what I can to keep her alive."

"There's keeping her alive, and then there's keeping her in a box."

"If locking her in a box will mean we see grandchildren, then so be it. I have lost Valstann, I have no intention of losing anyone else."

* * *

Mikael had to fight to keep his expression passive as he mounted his dreadsteed and turned to offer a hand to Jin'Loki. The troll took the offered hand and, with sudden inspiration, Mikael swung her up in front of him instead of behind. When she turned to look at him, he shrugged.

"You wanted to guide me, so you sit in front of me."

"It's just a road, human."

"You wanted to guide," Mikael reminded.

Jin'Loki shrugged. "Fine by me, jus' don't get too friendly back dere."

"You've got nothing to worry about, believe me," Mikael muttered.

Niles thumped Mikael's leg, smiling up at him. "Safe journey. Swing back by if you're ever in the jungle, we'll learn ya' good about living out here."

Despite himself, Mikael chuckled. "I'll remember that."

Later in the morning, they were galloping down the road, and Mikael was surprised to find Jin'Loki was actually quite friendly. She was pointing out trees and identifying them, as well as any wildlife she noted, and was even pointing out ancient troll ruins; she was actually quite knowledgeable about the jungle, and was quite happy to talk even if he wasn't being exactly conversational.

After a while they lapsed into silence, Jin'Loki spending her time staring at the passing scenery, and Mikael brooding over the contents of his latest nightmare.

The troll was sitting in front of him, so any attempts to stab him would definitely draw his attention, and he was watching for that besides. They'd already ridden further than they had when she'd stabbed him and took them off the road, and...

"Have you ever been to Orgrimmar?" he asked.

Jin'Loki shook her head. "No. Born and raised in da jungle, captured by the cultists I been spying on a few years back, ended up livin' in Booty Bay. Been wanting to go though, see Warchief Thrall with me own eyes."

"Your accent is all over the place," Mikael said, the thought just occurring to him. "How'd you learn Common?"

"Goblins in Booty Bay. They speak all languages because they need to, picked Common up from them along with a few others," she said with a shrug. "My accent, as ya point out, is all over the place mainly because I usually make a conscious effort to get rid of it. Sometimes it slips tru' though, as you can tell."

"Goblins teach you to hide the accent?"

"Nah, just Common. They also speak this-" she held up her hand, rubbing her fingers and her thumb together, "-but you need to have a really deep pocketbook to understand that language."

Mikael nodded and they fell back into silence; it was beginning to grow dark when, ahead of them, a shark head rose up from between the trees.

"And dere's - there's - the entrance," she said. "Horse didn't get tired or anything either."

"Dreadsteeds don't tire, only their riders do," Mikael said dryly.

Jin'Loki shrugged. "You'll have to lead the horse inside, the goblins don't allow you to ride inside the town."

"I've been here before," was all he said, slowing the dreadsteed to a walk as they approached the shark head. When they reached it, they dismounted and he dismissed the dreadsteed back to Xoroth.

"Easy way of feeding the thing, I guess," the troll commented. "Anyways. I gots some business to take care of, so this is where we part ways. See you around, human."

"I doubt we'll see one another again," Mikael said guardedly. "Goodbye."

Jin'Loki disappeared ahead of him into the head; Mikael stepped into the shark's mouth and into a dim wood-lined tunnel, allowing his eyes to adjust to the gloom before walking quickly across the planks and out the other end of the tunnel into the goblin town of Booty Bay.

Pressed into a shadowed alcove, Jin'Loki watched him leave with her blood-red eyes, the feral grin back on her face.

"Oh, we'll see one another again, warlock. _Real soon_ if I have my way."


	3. Chapter 3

He didn't really care much for the bustle of the goblin port city. It was too crowded together, too noisy, and smelled of dead fish. The last time he'd come through here, five years ago with Sevei, Tebrion, and Saliea, he'd been distracted by his search for his brother and the need to follow Saliea as she helped Sevei carry the warning to his family in Outland. His distraction served to keep him from remembering just how much he rather disliked Booty Bay.

The sea was lovely, but that was about the only attractive thing about the city; he hoped whomever Meraka had sent to wait on him would be easily found so they could get on their way quickly.

The wooden planks clattered beneath his feet as he walked down the main thoroughfare, listening to the chatter of goblins and the clamor of vendors trying to attract his attention. Mikael kept his eyes in front of him - and his coinpurse close - as he walked, wondering how in the world he was going to recognize the person waiting for him.

A low-pitched growl from behind him made him pause, and he turned to see himself nose to nose with a nightsaber. The fur on it was gray and patterned with black spots, and the eyes staring at him were mismatched, one gray and one a light shade of blue.

"'ey dere pally, been a while since I saw ya last mon."

Mikael grinned up at the troll perched on the nightsaber's back. "I was wondering who Meraka sent for me. How are you?"

Kakum slapped the nightsaber between the ears, then rubbed its head affectionately. "Oh, been well. Takin' da odd job 'ere and dere ta feed the stomach 'ere," he chuckled, gesturing at his cat. "Doraen didint say she'd get dis big."

Mikael eyed the nightsaber with a smile. "Depends on the species. These, unless they're bred not to, ALL grow to that size." He reached out and scratched at her muzzle; she blinked at him and ceased growling, purring instead. "Her eyes changed."

"Ya. About a year after I got 'er dey changed. She's a cute 'un."

"What did you name her?"

"Keko. Da' wifey named 'er."

Mikael blinked up at him in surprise. "Y-you're married?"

"Ya mon. Been hitched a good...oh, I'd say a good twelve years now? Mebbe longer? I'm not one fer rememberin' dates."

Chuckling, Mikael shook his head. "Would seem everyone is married but me."

"Ya mon, wat's ya problem? Ya might be ugly but a'least ya got da charm goin."

"Ha ha," Mikael said sarcastically. "When are we leaving for Orgrimmar?"

"Been checkin' da ship schedules, dere's a passenger ship headin' ta Ratchet in two days." The troll shifted, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a black cloth sack. "By da way, Meraka sent dis to ya. Said ta use whaddevar is in dere when ya get near Orgrimmar."

Curious, Mikael caught the sack - it was small enough to fit in one hand - as Kakum tossed it to him, and untied the drawstrings and reached in. A moment later he pulled out what looked like a small glass orb strung on a silvery chain. The orb was about the size of a marble and was a dark purple, encased in a silver filigree cage which hung from the chain. It twinkled in his palm as he looked at it, Kakum leaning over Keko's head to get a look himself.

"Wonder what it does," Mikael said, hefting it in his hand.

"Meraka said not ta put it on until we got ta Orgrimmar..." Kakum said slowly.

The two males looked at one another.

"Let's find out what it does," they said in unison.

Kakum swung off Keko and patted the cat on the nose. "Ya know where ta wait, Keko. Go on."

The nightsaber licked the troll's arm and padded off the other direction, heading for the lower docks. Kakum jerked his head toward the other side of Booty Bay. "I got a room ovar in da Salty Sailor Tavern, we can head dere."

Mikael followed as Kakum pushed through the crowds of people, heading for the tavern on the other side of the docks. He held the necklace in his hand, gathering up the chain in his fist so you couldn't tell he held anything, the sack empty and stuffed into his belt. They entered the tavern and Kakum took a left, heading up some stairs with Mikael right behind him. Up on the next level - and across a rope-and-plank bridge - was a wide open space with beds along the wall, and two doorways directly ahead of them. One of them was open, showing the empty room - bed, simple bedside table, a desk and chair - while the other door was shut.

Kakum dug around in his pockets and pulled out a small, rusted key. He stuck it in the lock on the door and gave it a twist, and with a groan the lock opened and he shoved the door open.

"Cost me extra ta' actually get a room, but it be worth da money fer da privacy. I don' trust no one 'round 'ere. Ya welcome ta sleep in 'ere, da floor be clean."

"I'll seek lodging elsewhere, this isn't the only place with rooms for rent," Mikael said, following the troll into the room and shutting the door behind them.

Now inside, Mikael opened his hand and looked at the necklace he held, Kakum leaning in close to peer at it as well.

"One o' Meraka's trinkets, could do anyting mon."

"Only one way to find out," Mikael said simply, slipping the chain around his head and letting the orb rest on his chest.

It twinkled serenely against the black of his leather armor, and to Mikael it seemed like it didn't do anything, but Kakum suddenly burst out laughing.

"Well mon, ya be better lookin' now!"

"What? What'd it do?" Mikael asked, looking down at himself and again seeing no change.

Kakum glanced around and noticed a chamber pot sitting in the corner - clean, thankfully - and grabbed it, sitting it on the desk. He pulled a waterskin from his backpack at the foot of the bed and dumped it in, then gestured for Mikael to step up and look at the water.

Mikael held the bauble flat to his chest and leaned over, waiting for the water to settle so he could see his reflection. Finally, when the surface was smooth as glass, he gasped when he took in his appearance. Instead of his own face, that of a blood elf stared up at him.

He still had his long, black hair and his skin tone, but there was where the similarities ended. His ears were long, slender, and pointy; his eyes glowed green; his face was thinner and younger-looking. All together, he had to admit that while nothing much about him had really changed, he still looked like an entirely different person.

"I thought she said Thrall had given his permission for me to pass through Horde territory..." he said, reaching up to touch his face. The orb swung forward on its chain and swished through the water, scattering his reflection and Mikael stood up straight, hands still feeling his own features.

"She might have, but not even Trall can keep an eye on everyting in Orgrimmar. Dere might be some who won' like seein' a hooman walk tru da streets." Kakum shrugged. "Dat be ma guess anyhow. Her actual reason could be anyting."

Mikael pulled the necklace off, glancing into the water again to see his regular human face staring back at him. "I'm glad we found out what this did now, instead of when we got there."

"Ya mon. Might o' been fun tryin' ta explain how a hooman suddenly became a blood elfie."

Mikael carefully tucked the necklace into his pocket inside the cloth bag, tying the drawstrings to his belt to prevent a theft of the item, then stretched a leg out behind him.

"Well, I'm going to go inquire about a room for the night, and then dinner sounds really good. I literally rode all day from the north to get here."

"Bet yer butt be hurtin', ain't it?"

"The wellbeing of my backside is none of your business."

"Meetcha back in 'ere for foodin' den?"

With a nod, Mikael left and headed toward the upper areas of the city as a sudden thought came to him. He'd almost forgotten it was in his backpack, but he needed to mail off that letter. Several sets of steps later, he was handing over the letter - along with the postage cost - to the gryphon master, who stuck it in a sack of mail items that, he assured the warlock, were being sent out that night overseas.

Goblins were beginning to light lanterns as the darkness deepened and Mikael made his way toward a smaller, less well-known - but no-less populated - tavern called the Rusty Cutlass; it was run by humans, and so tended to be more sympathetic toward the races that made up the Alliance. He was greeted by laughter and a serving girl when he stepped inside the door.

"Hail there, handsome. You looking to eat something?"

"No thank you, miss. I'm just in need of a room for a few nights."

The girl, flame-haired and blue-eyed and dressed in a tight bodice and full skirts, smiled coyly at him and wound a strand of her hair around a finger. "You could always share mine, cutie..."

Shaking his head, Mikael tried not to smile - he'd been propositioned by women in the past, and he knew he didn't want to do anything to encourage her. "Uh, no thank you. I prefer to sleep alone."

"Suit yourself, but if you change your mind-"

"I won't be," he said dryly.

"-all you have to do is find me," she finished with a sniff. "As for a room, talk to Rothie up at the bar. Charging fifty silver a night last I asked him."

Thanking her, Mikael wound his way through a crowded dining room and headed for the bar against the far wall. A gray-haired, stooped elderly man was sitting on a tall stool, watching as a much younger man served drinks to the patrons sitting at the bar; Mikael had to turn sideways and lean in, gesturing to catch the old man's attention.

"Are you Rothie?"

"Barb send ye to me?" Rothie asked, peering over Mikael's shoulder at the redhead.

Mikael nodded. "I'm in need of a room for a few nights, I'd like to pay by the night instead of upfront, not sure if I may be leaving early."

"That's fine lad, that's fine. I've got some empty rooms, oddly enough. Howabout eh..." he trailed off, hopping down from his stool and limping down the length of the bar - Mikael following the best he could, winding his way around people. When he finally caught up to the man he had pulled a book from under the bar and was thumbing through it.

Finally, Rothie jabbed a finger at an entry in the book, his yellowed nail resting over a number. "Howabout one of my rooms on the top floor? Smaller but quiet."

"That's fine. I'm not picky."

"Fifty silver then," Rothie said, pulling a keyring from his belt and flicking through the keys as Mikael pulled out his money. Mikael dropped the money into Rothie's empty hand as the man handed him a key he pulled from the ring. "Room twelve. You looking for some dinner as well?"

"No, I'm due elsewhere for that."

"Have a good night then, lad," Rothie said as Mikael thanked him and backed from the bar.

A while later, having eaten with Kakum - and indulged in a bit of drink, a light mead that had a faint taste of citrus to it under the honey-flavoring - Mikael was climbing the steps to his room, feeling full and in rather high spirits. He slid his key into the lock and opened the door to a slightly stale-smelling room - he opened a window and let in the night air - and flopped face-first on the bed after locking the door behind him, tossing his knapsack on the floor beside the bed.

Laying there, his muscles made him very aware of how tiring a full day's-ride could be, and he felt the ache deep in his lower back and backside, as well as his legs and feet. Hooking a toe against a heel, he had just kicked off one boot when he felt a gentle touch on a calf.

He jumped and nearly kicked Elervina in the face as he rolled over.

"Oh for the love of...are you _trying _to get yourself killed?"

Elervina smiled sweetly at him. "I can tell how tired you are. I can make the hurts better."

Mikael frowned. "We've been over this before, Elervina. I know what you really mean by that, and I never intend to use you that way."

Now it was the succubus's turn to frown as she perched on the edge of the bed. "_Why?"_

"Because I'm not that type of person," he snapped, reaching down to tug off his other boot and let it drop to the floor. "No amount of trying on your part will get me to bed you." He glanced up at her. "No amount of pouting, either...and why are you here? I did NOT summon you."

"I come when I'm needed."

"I don't need you, not right now."

She leaned toward him, angling herself so he had a good view down the front of her bodice. "You say that, but I know better."

He rolled his eyes. "Put those away."

She clenched her fists. "All I want is for you to love me."

"Well, I won't. Not in the way you're wanting me to love you," he said bluntly. "You are my servant, my trusted servant. I look to you for advice on occasion, and you defend me when I require you. I'm sorry, but out of everything I see you as, bedmate is not one of them."

Trembling with rage, the succubus faded from view, and Mikael rubbed his temples wearily. He hadn't the faintest idea why Elervina had lately been trying so hard to seduce him, but he knew he didn't exactly appreciate the attention. As he'd said, she was a trusted servant, one he sometimes asked for advice, but he'd never seen her as a plaything, not even when he had been younger and had first enslaved her to his will.

Before he had captured her, he had spent time researching the demonesses, learning about them so he could better capture one - and better defend himself against one - when he felt that having one would be useful. Elervina had immediately tried using her demonic seduction powers on him, and rather quickly learned that he hadn't summoned her for the purpose she expected.

A twinge in his lower back pulled him from his musings, and he tiredly stretched out in the bed, mentally making a note to begin researching how Elervina was coming to him without him casting the spell needed to summon her. His regular nightmares accompanied him in his sleep.

* * *

Two days later Kakum and Mikael were on a passenger ship, on their way to Ratchet. The voyage was peaceful, not even a storm to break up the sun-filled days of sailing. Finally they arrived in Ratchet and began the ride north to Durotar.

Keko easily kept pace with Mikael's dreadsteed, loping along beside the fiery horse with little trouble. The journey was uneventful, though Mikael welcomed the quiet of the Barrens.

"It's been awhile since I got out of the city," he said one night as they ate their meal around their small campfire.

"It always be good ta get out unner da stars every so often," Kakum said, belching loudly. "Er, excuse me mon. But yeh. City life be too loud fer me, too crowded too. I like sleepin' on da ground, somewhere open." He gestured up at the sky, where the stars were just beginning to be visible. "Here be where ya get ya peace o' mind. Ease'ya ta hear yaself tink, mon."

"I guess," Mikael said, shrugging. "I haven't been out of a city since...well, since we all traveled together through here." With a sigh he leaned back, stretching his feet toward the fire. "Maybe being so stationary, after years of being on the move, was what put me in such a slump."

"A slump ya say?"

"Yes, well," Mikael said, grasping for words. "I was, I suppose you could say bored, I was very bored...I don't know," he said, chuckling. "My father noticed it, even if I didn't at first."

"See, dat's what city livin' does to ya." Kakum slapped his knee, pointing at him. "Whatchoo goin' to Orgrimmar for, anyhow?"

"I'm not exactly sure, actually," came the answer. "Meraka contacted me-"

"One o' her exploding pigeons?"

"-yes," Mikael chuckled, shaking his head. "She contacted through one of those exploding birds."

"Damn ting 'bout gave me a heart o'tack."

"And she invited me to Orgrimmar," he continued. Sitting down the remains of his meal, he tugged at his belt and removed the hilt of Spellcleaver, holding it up so the troll could see it. "She asked I bring Spellcleaver with me."

"Wonder wat she wants wit' dat ting," Kakum said, accepting the hilt as Mikael handed it over. The troll held up to the firelight, eying it. "Still a nice piece o' work, even if iddis boken."

Mikael took it back, holding it in his hand and studying it. "It's strange, you know..." he said slowly.

"Wat is?"

He stood, falling into a combat stance and taking a few practiced jabs at imaginary foes. "I remember using this blade so well, it's like...it's like I can feel it, like it never was shattered." He spun in a circle and dropped to a knee, Spellcleaver in a high guard - or would be, had there been a blade on the hilt. "I haven't taken up another sword since Spellcleaver shattered. It feels wrong to, and I'll never find another weapon as fine as this one had been."

Kakum watched as Mikael went through a few attack routines, whistling through his tusks. "Ya need a girl, hooman. Ya spend too much time wit' dat ting."

Mikael laughed, slipping Spellcleaver back into his belt. "I was trained to use swords since I could hold one, whether or not I have a woman wouldn't effect how I use a weapon."

The troll chuckled and began to bank up the fire for the evening as Mikael took the remains of their meal and buried it far from their camp. Later, with Keko snoring loudly nearby, the two males settled in to sleep.

"Should I summon something to keep watch?" Even as he said it, Mikael grimaced at the thought of doing so – he wanted to distance himself from the fel magics, after all.

Kakum shook his head. "Nah. She may be snorin' loud enuff ta wake da dead, but Keko actually be a light sleeper." He jerked his thumb toward the nightsaber, grinning. "Besides, sometin dat big generally be enuff ta convince critters ta keep der distance."

And so went their nights as they traveled north, reaching Durotar days later. Durotar was made of rich red clay with the occasional dot of bright green vegetation, a stark contrast to the pale brown dirt and grass of the Barrens. It was definitely warmer in Durotar than out on the plains, and the nights in contrast were much more chilly.

"I don't see how anyone could like living here," Mikael commented one night, wrapped in his cloak as the wild blew up dirt and grit, forcing them to keep the fire low.

"It ain't so bad if ya be indoors. We just be roughin' it," Kakum said, snorting dust from his nostrils. "Blech. It don' normally blow like dis, either. Bad mojo in da air, if ya ask me."

"How can you tell?"

"Meraka'll tell ya when we get dere, mon, but dere be some bad mojo blowin' lately."

The hunter refused to say anything more, and so they spent the rest of their travel time talking about anything but what they were expecting in Orgrimmar. Finally it was late afternoon several days later, and Kakum slowed them to a stop.

"Well, we're near da city, so I'm guessin' ya should put dat thingy on Meraka sent ya."

"The thing- oh, right," Mikael said, having all but forgotten about the magical necklace he carried. He tugged it free and slipped it on, sliding it under his chestpiece so the marble rested against his bare chest. "Well, how do I look?"

"Like a stuck-up elfie."

"Perfect...I think."

Kakum pointed to their left, then directly ahead of them. "Dat way be da back way, and ya can see Orgrimmar dere on da horizon. I'ma take ya in da back way, cuz da only ting I can tink of dat would make Meraka give ya a disguise is she don' want ya seen."

Mikael shrugged - Thrall might have given his permission for Mikael to travel here, but Kakum's earlier statement had a ring of truth to it: even the Warchief's word was not enough to calm the hostilities many Horde races had toward those of the Alliance. It'd been tense enough riding through their territory and happening upon some of them - he couldn't imagine they'd take nicely to a human riding through the streets of their capital city.

Allowing the troll to take the lead, Mikael followed along as they adjusted their course and, an hour or so later, came upon a small wooden bridge stretching across a deep fissure, guarded by several heavily-armored orcs. On the other side of the fissure was a very tall wood-and-stone wall with a tall gate set into it - the entrance to Orgrimmar.

Kakum motioned for Mikael to wait, and swung down off Keko while rummaging through his backpack.

"_Which o' yas be da cap'n here?"_

A big female orc, a dark green with a scarred face and bald except for a braid at the base of her skull, stepped forward. "_That would be me. Who are you and why are you coming in this way?"_

_ "I got wit' me da ambassador da Warchief be expectin' here soon. Got da papers provin' it too, mon. Here." _Kakum dug out a scroll from his backpack and handed it to the female.

She perused it a moment, then shoved it back into Kakum's hands and approached Mikael, her nostrils flaring. "_You smell like a human."_

_ "My armor is human-made," _Mikael said, incredibly thankful for the Orcish primer Meraka had sent him.

The orc shrugged then turned to the others still guarding the bridge. "_Everything checks out, let them through." _She eyed Mikael from over her shoulder. "_And get a change of clothes, you stink."_

He nodded to her and hurried to catch up to Kakum as he led Keko over the bridge and remounted.

"We gunna head right up ta Trall's trone room," Kakum said in a low voice. "Meraka will be dere, she be one o' Trall's -" the troll shook his head abruptly. "_Da'. Lemme try dis again." _He cleared his throat, switching from Common to Orcish. "_We definitely be noticed if we speak in da Common. Anyway, Meraka will be wit' Trall, she be one o' his advisors now and is rarely out o' his sight nowadays."_

Mikael nodded. "_And I think it'll be better if I don't talk much. My grasp of Orcish is bad."_

_ "Whaddeva ya tink, mon. Come on, dis way."_

They headed through the gates and down a narrow street, buildings carved into the surrounding rock soaring high above their heads. The architecture here might have been simple, with its mud huts and hides and crude stoneworking, but it had its own rustic beauty, and Mikael had to admit that Orgrimmar - what he'd seen so far - was impressive. He felt dwarfed, riding along behind Kakum as they passed orcs and trolls and tauren; he hadn't felt this small since his first visit to Ironforge - the knowledge of several tons of rock hanging over your head tended to give you that feeling. There wasn't a ton of rock hanging over him, but he felt the closed-in presence nonetheless, but instead of feeling suffocating, it felt welcoming and sturdy. Time and people would come and go, but Ogrimmar would stand strong for years to come.

Kakum ushered him through backstreets, trying his best to keep Mikael away from main thoroughfares, and finally they ducked out of an alley and into a well-lit neighborhood.

"_Dis be da Valley o' Wisdom," _Kakum said, nodding ahead. "_Up dere be our goal."_

Up ahead was a large structure with a squat tower on either side. The building had wide wooden steps leading up into it, and had large, pointed bone-like pinnacles on either side of the stairs. More surprising still was the giant, towering tree in front of and slightly to the side of the building - a giant tree with a massive pit lord skull fastened to it, and with the pit lord's armor tied on as well.

"_Mannoroth," _Kakum said with a slight shudder. "_Da demon dat corrupted da orcs wit da bloodlust." _The troll let Mikael study the remains a moment longer, then pointed at the building. "_Dat's Grommash Hold, Trall's fortress." _He ushered Mikael forward and led the way up the stairs, and within moments, Mikael found himself before the Warchief himself.

Thrall sat upon his throne on a raised dais and was in his usual black plate armor, the Doomhammer close at hand. Meraka was seated on a low cushioned seat near his feet, the faintest hint of a smile on her face as Mikael - to all appearances, a blood elf - stepped into the room.

"_Leave us," _Thrall commanded, and those few others in the room filed out, casting curious glances at Mikael - and decidedly hateful glances at Meraka, who remained where she was at the base of Thrall's throne.

Kakum squatted on his haunches and motioned for Mikael to keep walking forward. Suddenly, the warlock felt rather self-conscious, but nonetheless continued until he was a few yards from Thrall, and bowed deeply.

"_Greetings, Warchief."_

_ "Greetings, Mikael Sullivan," _Thrall replied, standing and stepping down to stand in front of Mikael. "We will converse in Common, as I'm sure you are more comfortable speaking that than Orcish."

"Not so much comfortable as less likely to make a fool of myself," Mikael said with a sheepish grin. "My grasp of your language isn't all that great."

"That you were willing to learn sets you apart from others of your race," Thrall said, walking around Mikael to stand at his back.

Mikael stayed facing the way he was, but could almost feel the Warchief's eyes on his back. He resisted the urge to clear his throat, and stood stiffly as Thrall continued his slow walk around him. Finally the orc came back into view, meeting Mikael's gaze with his own.

"Meraka has told me much about you, and that which she was unaware of has been told to me by the spirits. You caused quite a stir when you shattered the eredar and scattered him across the skies of Nagrand."

"I did what had to be done," Mikael replied.

"I know. Please, sit." The Warchief gestured to cushions sitting on the stone floor. Mikael took the one nearest to him, and Thrall settled on one across from him so they were eye to eye. Meraka stood and came to sit by them, the three forming a triangle in the floor; the mage inclined her head to Thrall, then turned to Mikael with a smile.

"I know you're curious as to why I invited you here, and I will answer that question after we have eaten."

"I be takin' mah leave now, mon," Kakum called from where he still squatted on the floor. "Da wifey be wonderin' where I be."

"Thank you for escorting him, Kakum," Thrall said, nodding to the troll as Kakum left and closed the doors behind him. "I hope you didn't run into any problems?" he continued, this time addressing Mikael.

The warlock simply shook his head. "None that you wouldn't expect when a member of the Alliance chooses to travel through Horde-held territory. We avoided all outposts even though you gave your permission for me to travel through your lands, and any we came upon were quickly...well, they weren't happy, but those papers you gave Kakum quieted any who thought to give us trouble." He touched the chain of the necklace around his neck then. "What I am curious about, though, is the need for me to wear this."

Thrall nodded. "I had indeed given my permission for you to travel here, but...well, you shall learn the need of that necklace after we have eaten."

The doors behind Mikael opened and various beings filed in, laden with trays. They sat them on short stands near the three in the floor, small platters filled with fresh fruits, boiled grains, and cuts of meat - a single plate of cooked meat for Mikael, and meat that almost looked raw for the two orcs - as well as pitchers of water and a skin of wine. A very young orc came in, carrying three earthernware mugs, and happily - and carefully - sat them down within reach of Thrall and the others, then went and clambered into Meraka's lap.

Mikael smiled. "Hello Murto."

Merka's son eyed him. "Who'r'oo?"

He received the smallest of nods from Thrall and, when everyone had once again left the room, Mikael pulled the necklace off and reverted back to his human form. Murto sat up and grinned.

"Unca' Meeka!"

"He's just learning Common," Meraka said, chuckling as she stroked her son's head. "He's been excited over seeing 'Unca Meeka' again - that he can remember anyway. He was much too young before."

Mikael laughed, reaching into his bag. "I remember him, he wasn't even a year old then." Tugging his backpack to him, he reached in and rummaged around, then pulled out a package wrapped in oiled cloth. He carefully unwrapped it to reveal a clockwork dragon figurine, and gestured to Murto. "I brought something to show you, Murto."

"Go on," Meraka said, giving the boy a gentle push.

The orc got up and edged over, looking down at the dragon curiously. Mikael sat it on the floor so he could see it; it was painted a bright crimson, and sat there with wings folded tightly to its back, sitting on its back legs with one leg held up before it. Mikael reached down and hit a certain spot on the dragon toy, causing the wings to flap once, and the jaw to drop open and allow a painted metal 'flame' to flick out briefly before the figurine returned to its original setting.

Murto grinned toothily and ran his finger down where Mikael had touched and watched again as the dragon flapped its wings and breathed 'fire.' "Neat."

"Just be careful with it," Meraka said as her son picked up the dragon and cradled it.

"Zug-zug," the boy said, taking his treasure off into a corner to play with it.

Mikael watched him go, shaking his head and smiling. Thrall too watched Murto wander off, chuckling.

"I never thought I would hear an orc child call a human 'uncle,'" Thrall said, eying Mikael.

Mikael just shrugged, looking faintly embarrassed. "If he wants to, I might as well let him...though I imagine I know where the 'unca' idea originated," he said dryly, glancing over at Meraka.

"I wish for my son to have strong ties to the humans, should he ever need their assistance, or they his," Meraka said evenly. "If being his uncle is such a big deal..."

"That's not what I'm saying and you know it," Mikael replied with a sigh.

Meraka simply grinned at him - he knew she'd been teasing him anyhow - and gestured that they all should eat. As they dined Murto wandered back over to them and nibbled at things off his mother's plate; finally, Meraka poured them all a mug of wine and settled back on her cushion, Murto drowsing in her lap with his dragon toy clutched to his chest.

"And now, I believe you have some questions you want answered," she said, looking at Mikael.

He nodded, sipping carefully at the wine - he never really had a head for liquor, and so didn't touch it often. It was a heavy red, and so he would need to be extra careful with it; he took another sip and then sat his glass down.

"Yes, a few. Why did I need to disguise myself as a blood elf? Why did I need to bring Spellcleaver?"

Meraka glanced at Thrall, who gazed evenly back at her; the mage cleared her throat and clasped her hands in her lap.

"I will explain all, I ask you to listen."

"Lately," she went on, with a heavy sigh, "there have been...disappearances, across Horde territory. Those who disappeared left no trace of themselves, and there is nothing to point us in the direction of the culprit." She again glanced at the Wachief, who gestured for her to continue. "We...we asked you here under false pretenses," she said finally. "Thrall had no intention of speaking to you about the events in Outland, five years ago."

Mikael looked between both orcs slowly. "Then...why did you ask me to come here?"

"A trade, ideally," Thrall said then. "There are few of the Alliance who will willingly speak to me. I have spoken to Jaina Proudmoore, and while I trust her beyond a doubt, I feel she has withheld information from me. I'm certain she has her reasons - she might have even been ordered by a higher authority not to reveal anything - but while she told us of the disappearances, we have no information as to the scope of the occurrences."

"I'm not certain I understand what you're asking of me," Mikael said, after both orcs fell silent.

"I am asking for your help, warlock," Thrall said. "You are not affiliated with any sort of military group, yes?"

Mikael shook his head. "No. I never was a part of the Stormwind militia, and I am no longer a paladin of the order. But I still don't see-"

"You are able, and willing it would seem, to cross faction lines," Thrall went on. "I will not mince words: I wish to learn more of these disappearances, how often they occur, where they are occurring. And I'd like you to inquire for me."

"Why me?"

"You still entertain a friendship with the little druid, yes?"

Mikael felt his face darken slightly. "Yes, and?"

"She is Lord Staghelm's foster daughter. Please. Ask her to ask her foster father about these disappearances, gather as much information on it as you can, and then report back to me," Thrall said, eying Mikael.

The human sat silently a moment, letting that sink in. "I..."

Meraka leaned forward. "I know what we ask is odd, but if the same amount of disappearances are happening across faction lines, then we can prove it is not the Alliance behind it."

When Mikael looked up sharply, Meraka smiled grimly. "Yes, you heard me correctly. There is a rather large, out-spoken group who claim the disappearances are the work of the Alliance. The Warchief has claimed otherwise, but there are still whispers that he has no proof. That is why I sent you that necklace to disguise you - you would have no doubt been lynched had you come to Orgrimmar as a human."

"That the Alliance would be behind such wide-spread disappearances is ridiculous, but people will believe what they wish," Thrall said with a heavy sigh. "I know Jaina would not remain silent if this were the case."

"We've been at a stand-still in the war for years," Mikael said, looking between the two. "To think the Alliance would be kidnapping members of the Horde is ridiculous."

Thrall nodded to him. "Those are my thoughts exactly, but to silence those causing the rumors we must tread carefully here. If I come down too harshly, it would turn them into martyrs and only compound the problem - not even I can be expected to hold control over the Horde if they truly believe I am in league with the Alliance and mean them harm."

"Your Horde adores you though, would they truly believe such a thing of you?"

"There are many who believe my time with the humans corrupted me," Thrall said quietly. "They are very few, but it will be like a wildfire in the wind should the groups who dislike me join together with the ones speaking up now about the disappearances: war will happen, and I'm not sure I could stop it."

Mikael leaned back, rubbing at his temples a moment as he mulled over that. Thrall being unable to control the Horde seemed like a rather impossible idea...but he did believe that war could happen, because-

"If the Horde blames the Alliance for the disappearances, then...then if the same thing is happening in Alliance territory, I bet they'll blame the Horde," Mikael said slowly. "That would indeed cause a spark that would have old hostilities flaring."

"You understand then why we have called you here," Thrall said gravely. "Jaina will do what she can, and share what she can, but ultimately she is bound by the human politics. You, on the other hand, may be able to get at information she cannot. Please talk with the druid, and ask her to speak to Fandral Staghelm."

Nodding, Mikael picked up his mug of wine and took another tiny sip. "You can be certain I will. Now..." He rolled the wine over his tongue a moment, then swallowed. "You said this was to be a trade. I find out what I can, and tell you, and what do I get in return?"

Meraka tossed back her entire mug, using a finger to dab at the corner of her mouth. "That is my area, and it's why I asked you to bring Spellcleaver." Her mug clicked loudly in the sudden silence of the room as she sat it on a tray, then turned to face Mikael. "I have, after much effort, located persons who would be willing to help you reforge Spellcleaver."

Mikael felt his stomach plummet through the floor. "W-what?"

Meraka smiled at him. "You heard me. As a reward for assisting us in gathering information, I will see to it that Spellcleaver is restored to what it once was."

He couldn't tell if it was the wine or the shock making his head spin. "Y-you have people skilled enough?"

The mage nodded. "Yes. It wasn't easy locating them - they are very talented, but rather secretive about what they can do, but the right words in the right ears led me to them, and they are willing to undertake such a task. They are honored, in fact, as I explained to them how the sword was shattered in the first place."

All he could do was sit and stare, open-mouthed, at the two orcs; they seemed amused by Mikael's reaction, and luckily they couldn't see the maelstrom going on in his mind.

_Reforge Spellcleaver! _The thought was both amazing and almost sacrilegious. This sword was made by his mother and father...should he let any other person touch it? Was it right to let anyone else work on it, even if it was to restore the amazing weapon?

He let his fingers trail down to the hilt still in his belt.

_Reforge it._

The thought whispered through his mind as his fingers stroked the metal; he felt a brief thrill of excitement and was reminded of the feel of the sword in his hands - the perfect balance, the soft red glow, the ease of movement when he went through an attack routine.

_Reforge it._

Raising his eyes, he met the expectant gaze of Meraka, and barely he nodded. She nodded and smiled at him.

"You know," Mikael finally said into the silence. "I...would have helped you, even without the promise of a reward."

Meraka inclined her head to Thrall, then turned back to Mikael. "I guessed as much, but...you deserve to have your weapon back in your hands. As such, the sword will be reforged before we ask you to return to Alliance territory and seek the information we have asked for."

Mikael pulled the hilt free from his belt and studied it, thinking of the weapon whole once again. "...you have no idea how much this means to me."

Thrall shifted, studying the hilt in Mikael's hand. "May I?"

Reluctantly, he handed Spellcleaver over to Thrall - he might as well let the orc see it, as they were willing to help him reforge it, reward or no - and the Warchief jerked as soon as his fingers met the metal.

"It's cold..." Thrall murmured, holding it gingerly.

Meraka nodded, missing the look of utter surprise on Mikael's face.

"Cold?"

The two orcs looked at him. "Yes, it's very cold. It almost burns the fingers," Thrall said, wincing as he moved the hilt from hand to hand, holding for as long as he could stand before finally setting it on the floor and gently nudging it with a toe back toward Mikael.

Mikael picked it up, hefting in it one hand and holding it out toward them once more. "I don't understand...you said this was cold?"

"Incredibly cold," Thrall said.

Meraka glanced at him. "I wouldn't say incredibly, but it was rather chilled when I retrieved it in Nagrand."

Mikael bounced it up and down on his bare hand. "It's not cold..."

* * *

The blood elf was blonde with short, spiked hair standing straight out from his skull. He was dressed incredibly plain for one of his race, in a dark brown tunic belted over black pants with scuffed brown leather boots that reached his knees.

They stood in a small shop, to all appearances a store for fine jewelry. The elf stood behind a wooden counter that displayed several ornate medallions and large decorative stones.

"_This is Liam," _Meraka said, gesturing to the elf who bowed deeply. "_He supplies raw materials for spell components and makes lovely jewelry, but his specialty is the forge."_

Mikael, wearing his magical necklace, nodded to the elf politely. "_Greetings. I am Mikael Sullivan."_

_ "I claim no surname," _Liam said softly. "_It died along with my family to the Scourge."_

_ "Liam will require Spellcleaver from you now," _Meraka went on, gently pushing Mikael toward the elf.

Slowly, Mikael withdrew the hilt from his belt and offered it to him; Liam took it gingerly, his eyes widening.

"_Glorious, this weapon must have once been glorious indeed..." _he said, running a finger over the little bit of the blade remaining on the hilt. "_I...I can picture it in my head now, such beauty and grace, but first...first..." _ He abruptly turned and disappeared into a door behind the counter.

Meraka cleared her throat. "He is a bit...eccentric, at times." She jerked her head toward the door and Mikael followed her through it, blinking in surprise as they walked into Liam's workshop.

Metal bits and tools littered tables and workbenches; Liam had taken Spellcleaver and had it resting on a workbench, pulling enchanted glowing crystals over to better light the area. He had some sort of magnifying device - a huge lens attached to leather straps - clasped to his head and slid down over one eye, and was intently studying it; Meraka let him poke at it for several long minutes, then politely cleared her throat.

Liam jumped, glancing up wildly - one eye appearing ridiculously huge in the oversized lens - and focused on them.

"_Your pardon. I require something of you, Mikael Sullivan." _The blood elf hurried around his workshop, poking and prodding at the cluttered mess; finally, he pulled free a key from under a pile of scrap metal, and motioned for them to follow him to the back. They cautiously picked their way to him, and Liam tapped on the wall experimentally, finally finding a hollow-sounding point. He touched the key to that spot and it melted away into the wall, several loud clicks sounding; moments later the outline of a door appeared, and Liam gave the wall a shove.

The door opened out into a sunny courtyard, all red dirt and rock like the majority of Orgrimmar. Liam ushered them outside, then pointed to their back. Turning, Mikael spied a weapon rack full of both wooden and metal weapons.

"_Select one that is closest to your lost blade. I must see how you move before I can rightfully begin reforming your weapon."_

Mikael stared blankly at Meraka, who shrugged helplessly and gave him a 'do as he says' look. With a sigh, Mikael stepped to the rack and eyed the weapons; there were swords and daggers and axes, polearms and clubs of all sorts, and after picking up several different blades he finally found one that felt most like Spellcleaver had.

It was a short, wooden sword, and while the handgrip was a bit thinner and not leather-wrapped like Spellcleaver, the weight and the balance was close enough.

"_Now what?"_

_ "Go...go through an attack routine. A training exercise. Anything that will show me the grace of your movements when one with your weapon."_

Again Mikael looked to Meraka, and growled slightly when he saw the orc fighting to hold back laughter. She made a 'go on' motion with her hands, chuckling under her breath.

Growling again, Mikael went through a basic offensive routine; Liam watched him, holding his breath, his magnifying lens resting on top of his head.

"_G-go on, I must see more!"_

Feeling slightly ridiculous, Mikael went through several more attack routines, each more complex than the previous. By the time he was done, he had a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, and Liam was all but bouncing in place.

_"Marvelous! Marvelous! Yes! The finest blade I shall craft! You can count on it!" _the blood elf squealed, clapping his hands together. "_A more worthy hand to wield one of my blades I have never seen! You will have your sword, Mikael Sullivan, this I promise!"_

Without a further word Liam disappeared back into his workshop, leaving Meraka and Mikael alone in the courtyard. Raising an eyebrow at the orc, returning the wooden practice weapon to the rack.

Meraka shrugged at his wordless inquiry. "I did say he was a bit eccentric..."


	4. Chapter 4

Liam's shop remained closed, and no one saw any sign of the blood elf for three days. Mikael spent his time studying books in Meraka's study and sparring with Ortok in the training grounds the orc drilled new recruits in - while disguised as a blood elf, of course.

Finally, on the third day of Mikael's stay in Orgrimmar and through a messenger, Liam informed them that he had completed the blade for Spellcleaver.

Mikael was in the middle of a match with Ortok, the two of them going at each other, layered in protective spells of Meraka's invention.

Ortok was wielding the biggest two-handed greatsword Mikael had ever seen - "that's not a sword, that's a metal tree limb" he's protested when he saw it - while Mikael made do with a short sword that, while definitely not as fine as Spellcleaver, was as close to his lost weapon as he could find. It took Meraka several minutes - and a rather large gust of wind to force the two males apart - to get their attention and give Mikael the news.

Bent double and dripping in sweat, Mikael let the weapon he held drop to the earth. "I was beginning to wonder how long it would take," he panted.

Meraka calmly caught Murto by the arm as the boy tried to toddle passed her. "You're not old enough, Murto."

"Buh I wann' battle."

"When you're older, and against someone your own size."

Ortok clapped Mikael across the back - nearly knocking the human over - and grunted. "Go get your little knife, warlock, then come back. You gave me a good fight with the one you had, now I want to see you with your favored blade." He grinned toothily. "Stick around and beat the crap out of some of the welps I have to deal with, would you?"

Mikael flicked sweat-soaked hair out of his face. "I don't think I can train Horde warriors, you understand."

"Why not? You look Horde to me," Ortok laughed. "Go on, go get your little butter knife."

Waving over his shoulder, Mikael went to join Murto and Meraka, and follow the mage back through the streets of Orgrimmar back to Liam's shop.

The blood elf was in his workshop, and he didn't even greet them when they walked in, merely indicated a cloth-wrapped parcel sitting on a pristine workbench.

"_Take it, my friend. I shall take no payment for such an honor."_

Mikael walked over and carefully picked it up; his hands shook slightly as he began to remove the cloth wrapping. The twinkling rubies met his gaze as he uncovered the hilt, and the rest of the cloth fell to the floor as he gripped the hilt and held Spellcleaver up.

The sword was whole once again, no sign of how Liam had affixed the new blade onto the hilt - had he fused the new blade onto the few inches of the original? Had he removed the original completely and attached the hilt? Gazing at the base of the blade, the sword almost seemed one single piece of metal, and almost seemed alive in his hands, glimmering in the light from the enchanted crystals hanging nearby.

"_Go. Use. And use it well."_

Mikael allowed Meraka to guide him out of the shop, his eyes still on Spellcleaver.

"_Well?"_

_ "It's...perfect," _he said dazedly, a goofy smile spreading across his face. He finally tore his eyes from his blade and looked at Meraka. "_I..."_

She smiled, looking ahead. "_I will need a few more days of preparation before I send you for the final touches on Spellcleaver. I think I nearly have the anchors correct, but time will tell."_

_ "Anchors?"_

_ "You'll see."_

_ "Do we have a few more days?"_

She shrugged. "_Again, time will tell."_

* * *

Mikael was dragged from bed before the sun had risen by way of Murto diving in on him, babbling half in Orcish, half in Common that Meraka requested his presence. Yawning mightily, he made his way from the small room he was inhabiting in Meraka's home across Orgrimmar to the tiny hut the mage used as a workshop.

"I used to dwell here, before I became an advisor to the Warchief," she had told him. It was in this hut that Mikael had been passing his time, reading the large number of scrolls and tomes the orc had amassed over the years.

Now, he stood in the weak early morning light and knocked on the door, Murto fidgeting at his side. After a moment a very weary-looking Meraka opened the door and motioned for him to come inside.

"You look like you've been up awhile," Mikael said as he stepped in, stifling a yawn.

"I haven't gone to bed yet," came the tired reply. "I wasn't about to waste more time sleeping when I was so close..."

"Close to what?"

Meraka yawned again and wound her way around tables filled with books and baubles, toward the back of the room where a desk was pushed against the wall between two sagging bookshelves loaded down with books. There, on the desk and sitting on a blue velvet pillow was a gleaming...something.

It looked like a tiny shield emblem, a pin of some sort, glittering bright silver with miniscule golden etchings across its surface. It seemed to glow with its own inner light, and Meraka carefully picked it up between two fingers and offered it to him.

"Pin it to your clothing, I wish to see if it worked."

Mikael took it gingerly and carefully pulled open the neck of his armor, gouging the sharp pin through and securing it, then looked up at her. "What is it?"

"_Another one of my little trinkets," _Meraka said, rubbing at her eyes. "_It took forever to get the enchantments to hold without destroying the pin, I had to use an adamantium and eternium alloy, not easy to get."_

_ "What is it, though?"_

Meraka smiled faintly at him. "_Are you listening to yourself?"_

_ "...all right, what am I speaking this time?"_

The orc laughed, shaking her head. "_A lot of preparation went into your visit here. Not only did I need to alter your appearance - to both save your life and Thrall's honor - but it occurred to me that you would need to be able to communicate as well. Your Orcish is passable, but I have to send you somewhere where Orcish is not the main language of the populace."_

Mikael eyed her warily. "_Where...are you sending me?"_

_ "Silvermoon. Blood elf territory," _Meraka replied, sighing heavily. "_You needed to learn Thalassian, and learn it quickly. The best I could do is give you something that would translate what you heard and said. I can't guarantee that some thing won't be lost in translation, but I can at least assure you that the enchantment will last for far longer than you need spend in the city of the blood elves."_

Mikael looked down at the little shield emblem twinkling on his collar. "_This thing is translating my speech into Thalassian?"_

"_Yes, and is also translating what you're hearing into Common. As I said, I cannot guarantee that all will translate, as there may be elven words that have no human equivalent, but I did what I could using a modified version of a spell of tongues."_

_ "How do I stop speaking Thalassian then?"_

_ "Merely take off the pin," _Meraka said, again yawning. "_It works like the necklace, as in, it will only work if it is on your person."_

Mikael nodded, undoing the pin and pulling it off. "Will it work if it's in my pocket as well?"

"It must be attached," she said. "Otherwise you'd have to make sure it wasn't physically touching you to cease speaking Thalassian."

"That's good," Mikael chuckled. "I'd hate to have to deal with that..." He looked from the pin to her, and shook his head. "Alliance mages would kill to have the knowledge you do."

The orc shrugged. "Most of what I have discovered is building on what my Master Alario was experimenting with...it gives me a sense of satisfaction to know that I am bringing his spells to completion."

Now it was Mikael's turn to stifle a yawn. "So...why did you need me up this early?"

"Because you leave in a matter of hours."

If looks could kill, Meraka would have been dead.

"Thanks for the heads up," Mikael said dryly, still glaring at the mage.

Meraka chuckled, shooing Murto away from something on a table and gently shoving the boy out the door, gesturing for Mikael to follow. "It was not my choice, I too would rather be in bed."

"How am I leaving?"

"Zeppelin to Undercity, then from there to Silvermoon." She held up a hand. "I have someone awaiting you in Undercity, you won't be there long."

"A grand tour of Horde capital cities?" he asked sarcastically.

Meraka sniffed. "Someday there will be peace between Horde and Alliance, true peace. Who is to say that you won't be able to freely travel to our cities anyhow?"

"Who is to say I'll even survive long enough to see that?"

Meraka simply rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Come on, we need to get your things, and I've a few other things to send along with you." She pushed him from the room, and he watched from the doorway as she gathered a few things from shelves and drawers and stuck them in a small sack, then joined him outside and locked the door.

She accompanied him back to his room and watched as he packed the few belongings he'd brought with him, then she led him to the gates of Orgrimmar; they passed through the city quickly, few people even awake at this hour. The sun was just beginning to rise when the mage led him to a tall tower, where a zeppelin was docked high above them.

Meraka pointed up. "There is your passage to Undercity, now listen." She offered the sack to him, holding half of it open and tilting it so he could see inside it. "I'm sending a few items back with you, just in case something...unexpected should happen, whether within our territory or in your search for information for us." She reached in, pulling out five feathers - one was brown, one black, and the other three white.

"This brown one and this black one will summon those birds I used to contact you - I didn't want you to have to come all the way back here to deliver anything you may learn if you didn't want to. You use them by taking them like this..." she said, holding the very tip of the quill. "..and then you hold it to your lips, state the name of the person you wish to speak to, and then blow on the quill. It will summon the bird and send it on its way." Now she held up the white ones. "These are levitation spells. Blow them off your palm and you can fly for several hours - make sure you aren't caught high up when the spells expire," the orc added dryly.

She stuck the feathers in the sack and pulled out two more items; one item appeared to be an irregular lump of rose quartz, the other a shard of clear glass.

"This," Meraka went on, indicating the rose quartz, "is a single-use, rather uh..._big _fireball. Grasp it, say 'infrende,' and throw it. Make sure you're well away from it because when it strikes something solid it will detonate." She returned it to the bag and held up the glass. "This is a single teleport spell. If you want to come back here to deliver anything you may learn personally, or...should you need to escape in a hurry, use it. If you don't specify a location it won't work, but otherwise just tell it a location, or a person even, and it will take you there." Meraka smiled slyly, raising an eyebrow at him. "I managed to convince Saliea to lend me one of those magical mirrors she and her father possess, and after a year of study I managed to copy the enchantment in the sense it will function as the mirror, but it is only one use...still needs a bit of work."

Mikael glanced at the glass, then looked up at her. "Why can't I merely contact Saliea with one of those birds, instead of making my inquiry in person?"

Slipping the glass back into the sack, she handed it to him and waited for him to slip it into his backpack, then sighed heavily. "I thought of that, but ultimately have decided against it. If, indeed, Jaina Proudmoore has been ordered to remain silent on the matter of the disappearances, it could be imagined that anyone close to anyone of power may be being monitored. It would not do to spark a war by refusing to go through the proper diplomatic channels, and you may learn something in person you may otherwise not have."

"You should get going. Usually no one is on the early flight from here to Tirisfal, so it should be a quiet journey for you."

Mikael nodded, checked to be sure the disguising necklace was secured under his armor and then pinned on the translating trinket she'd made for him. He gave the mage a one-armed hug, then walked up a spiral ramp up to the zeppelin and boarded.

* * *

"Here," the Archdruid said by way of greeting when Sevei and Saliea entered his quarters, tossing the druid a parchment envelope. "Another letter from your pet human."

Sal gave the male a sour look as she pried at the wax seal on the envelope. "He is my friend, not my pet."

Fandral waved a hand dismissively and dropped into his chair, his usual grumpy expression on his face. "Whatever. I have made up my mind regarding whether I send you two out on further missions for me."

"You took your time," Sal muttered. "How many days has it been?"

She fell silent, a faint grin on her face when Staghelm glared silently at her, then cleared his throat.

"You're not going anywhere," he said firmly, holding up a hand to silence Sal's no-doubt heated refusal. "No, listen. There was another disappearance the night before last," he said quietly, gaze on his desk. "It was a temple maiden, so essentially she was stolen right out from under Tyrande's nose, and no one heard nor saw anything, and only noticed her missing when she failed to show up for her duties the following morning." Now he drummed his fingers on his desk, inhaling deeply.

"I won't lie to you, Saliea," he said finally, standing up and walking toward a window at the back of his quarters, his back facing the shaman and the druid. "I've been quite honest to you about our relationship to one another all your life: it was too dangerous, too impossible, for me to raise you myself as your mother wished me to. I have, now and then, honestly regretted not fulfilling her final request of me, but to protect you from the enemies I know of, and those that I don't, I have kept the exact nature of our relations to one another a guarded secret, telling only those I trusted and trusting you to do the same, and kept myself to the outskirts of your life until recently."

He turned to face her, a look of utter weariness and age on his features. "That someone in the middle of our society, under the eyes of a deity even, should disappear without a trace scares me, and scares me deeply. I want you to remain in Darnassus for the time being." He glanced briefly at her from over his shoulder, then turned his gaze out the window.

Several moments of silence passed, and finally Sal blew out a heavy sigh, looking up at him, the letter from Mikael momentarily forgotten in her lap. "Fandral, if she disappeared from the temple what makes you believe I will be any safer here than elsewhere in the world?" she asked softly.

"Logically, I don't believe it will make a difference," he replied, still staring out the window. "But part of me wants to keep you close, should anything happen..." He abruptly turned and began to slowly return to his seat. "It would seem anyone is at risk to disappear...it may seem foolish or selfish, but I want you to stay where I can keep watch over you. After all," he sighed, shaking his head, "I'm not only thinking of you, but of your husband, _and _your unborn child." He settled into his chair, eying them both, composing his expression into completely blank indifference. "I am not so stupid as to believe you will accept this request quietly...I ask you to travel to Moonglade, and collect Donnovan for me. He will be taking your place as my messenger."

Sevei sat silently as Fandral spoke, biting his lower lip, looking between his wife and the Archdruid. Part of him was just as frightened as Staghelm was - the idea of Saliea disappearing without a trace made him sick with fear every time he thought of it - and he was relieved the Archdruid was ordering them to remain in Darnassus. However, the other part of him was partly cringing, partly amused at the reaction he knew was going to come out of the tiny druidess.

Both males were surprised when Saliea simply slumped in her chair and shook her head. "Very well...if it will put you at ease, we will remain here," she said quietly, gazing into her lap. Mikael's letter still sat there, unread, but any excitement she felt at reading it had been momentarily buried under conflicting emotions thanks to Fandral's plea.

"I thank you for not arguing with me, foster daughter," Fandral said, just as quiet as she. "I do not expect you to remain idle here in Darnassus...in fact, I do have a task for you when you have returned from Moonglade." He fell silent as Saliea and Sevei stood, and remained silent as he watched them leave. When they were gone, he sat in silence for several long moments, then got to his feet and began to pace restlessly.

Saliea waited until they were nearly to their home, a small dwelling just inside the wall of Darnassus, before whirling on Sevei - who was surprised she'd remained quiet that long.

"I may be small, but I am no child!" she snapped. "When will they see that?" Clenching and unclenching her fists, Saliea turned and continued to walk toward their house. "I am aware of the risks! Just waking every morning brings a degree of risk in this day and time! I am no safer here than I am anywhere else in the world, or Outland as well!"

"I understand his concern, my love," Sevei said when she paused to draw breath. "And I understand too your side of this argument." He reached out and took one of her hands in his, drawing her into a hug. "I share his fears, Saliea. I don't know what I would do with myself should you...should you..."

"I won't disappear," she said, her voice muffled against his chest. She let him hold her, and slid arms around his waist. "I won't, I promise you."

"And I promise you it won't happen. Anything that tries taking you will have to go through me," Sevei murmured, stroking her hair. "You and I will never be separated, and we will raise our child - our children - together."

She looked up at him a moment, then simply shook her head and buried her face against his chest again, her anger gone just as quickly as it had come. "Let's just go home..."

He swept her up into his arms and carried her the rest of the way to their house; the home had been a gift from Saliea's father Tanyion, the man who had raised her. It was a simple dwelling with only a bedroom, a kitchen area, a sitting room, and an attic they used for storage. They were so rarely actually here that the home didn't exactly feel like theirs, but the shaman smiled faintly, thinking of the addition they would soon need to add to the little home. A child scampering about would definitely make the place feel like their own.

He stepped inside and simply carried Saliea to their bedroom, sitting her on the bed and stretching out beside her. She curled up against him, then squirmed when she heard a crackle; she shifted and tugged out Mikael's letter from between them, now very wrinkled from both being laid on and, she had to admit, she'd likely crushed it in her hands in that brief bout of anger.

"In all that, I almost forgot about this," Sal sighed, smoothing out the parchment and snuggling back in against Sevei as she read. "...why do you both insist on the child being a girl?" she groaned after reading the first few lines.

Sevei stroked her cheek with a finger. "What is so wrong with wanting a little daughter to spoil?"

She shoved the hand away, laughing. "And what is so wrong with me wanting to give you a son?"

"Since when did we decide we're only having one?" the draenei chuckled, pulling her up and covering her neck with kisses. She squirmed and laughed, shoving at him.

"Stop it, oh stop it!"

That only seemed to encourage him, and she found herself pinned under her husband, staring up into his face. He bent down to kiss her and she squeezed a hand free and clapped it over his mouth.

"I have to have this child before we work on having another!" He pulled her hand away and pressed their lips together.

An hour or so later, Saliea shoved him to his side of the bed and began to gather her scattered clothing. "You, my beloved husband, are horrible."

"That's not what you were saying a moment ago-"

"Horrible!" she repeated, swatting him with a pillow and looking around for the discarded letter.

Sevei admired her bare back, chuckling and running his fingers down her side. "We don't need to do _that _to have fun, my love." He received another swat from the pillow and let it lay over his face, laughing into it. "Though I do have to say I can't wait until we can-"

Now she jumped on the pillow, causing him to reach up and tickle her bare stomach.

"Stop it you horrible man!" she squealed, falling over and curling up next to him as she shoved the pillow away. "Males! One thing on their minds, always!"

"I love you."

"And I love you."

* * *

Mikael jumped awake as a hand tapped his knee, nearly toppling sideways out of his seat. Glancing around showed he was in the zeppelin, sitting on a low bench against the wall in the cramped underbelly passenger compartment. An undead female clad in pure white robes, her rotting face mostly hidden - or held together - by leather straps, had her hand hovering over his knee.

"_Your pardon, but may I sit? No where else looks as...friendly," _she said quietly in Orcish.

_ "Certainly," _he replied, sliding over a few inches to make room for the female.

Meraka had told him that few people tended to be on the early flights, and this was true to an extent. There were five of them, counting himself, on the zeppelin - one burly male tauren, one shady male orc, the female Forsaken, and another blood elf male. All the others looked rough around the edges, and judging by the female's apparent level of rot she was a newly awakened undead, and probably still possessed much of her previously human mindset; they were all sitting below in the passenger area, which had limited seating, and the males had all chosen seats separate from one another. Mikael saw the female's point in that sitting next to him seemed safest: _he _wouldn't want to ask one of those males to move over and make room.

She sat down, fingers tapping against her knees. Apparently the female understood Thalassian, for she shifted and glanced at him, continuing on in Orcish. "_I would have remained above, but we're due for fog and I dislike getting wet."_

_ "Understandable," _Mikael said, wondering if he should remain silent or continue on with the small talk. He was slightly nervous about being on his own in the middle of Horde territory - what if he made some sort of social error? He had no idea what went on in the society in the Horde, how races acted toward one another. Perhaps his best bet was to remain polite and maybe even indifferent to everyone until he was safely in Silvermoon and among his own "kind."

_"Staying in Undercity, or headed elsewhere?"_

_ "Headed elsewhere." _

_ "Silvermoon, then? It's a lovely city - uh, I suppose you would know that already," _she added, chuckling nervously.

Mikael smiled and kept silent - he wasn't certain what to say to that.

"_The trip over the ocean will take a full day, easily, if we don't encounter any wind. Zeppelins are amazingly swift," _the undead went on. "_Are you visiting home?"_

He shook his head. "_No, I go to get something fixed."_

"_I'm Sarah. What's your name?"_

Mikael caught himself before he answered truthfully - a blood elf with a human name? Yeah, that would likely be taken badly. "_Uh. Korael," _he said, spitting out the first elf-sounding name he could think of.

"_Very nice to meet you, Korael."_

Sarah remained sitting by him the rest of the day, continuing to carry on a conversation about whatever seemed to come to her mind. Mikael - or _Korael, _as he had to keep reminding himself - chatted with her because he didn't have anything else to do. A dense fog had surrounded the zeppelin, lowering visibility and causing them to slow down for fear of possibly ramming another zeppelin, which would put their arrival time sometime the following afternoon.

"_Great. Because we all know I wanted to spend the night on a cramped bench," _Sarah muttered after the goblin who had brought the news departed for the upper deck.

"_It could be worse."_

_ "How could it be worse?"_

_ "We haven't crashed yet."_

Sarah snorted at him. "_True, very true."_

Mikael ate a quick dinner of hard travel biscuit and jerky from his backpack - Sarah declined all food, dryly stating that it was hardly required anymore - and then spent a very uncomfortable night propped awkwardly against the wall, making for a second night of little sleep. Apparently the goblins left their passengers to fend for themselves when it came to sleeping arrangements; by the time the zeppelin had docked (at what appeared to be an old granary converted into a tower) those in the zeppelin were in rather foul spirits as they disembarked.

Sarah accompanied Mikael through the gates into the ruins of Lordaeron, then nodded to him. "_It would appear someone requires your attention, Korael."_

A very prim blood elf female, with elegantly curled blonde hair and golden robes to match, was gesturing for him to come stand near her.

"_I suppose that is the one who was sent to collect me."_

_ "It was nice meeting you, Korael," _Sarah called after him as he walked toward the blood elf female.

He waved over his shoulder at the Forsaken, part of him wondering what sort of reaction she would have had had she known he was actually a human, and technically her enemy. He shrugged his pack into a more comfortable position across sore shoulders and approached the female waving at him.

"_You are Lord Sullivan?" _she asked, her tone cold.

_ "That would be me, yes. Are you the one Meraka sent to meet me?"_

She nodded shortly. "_Follow me, if you would."_

The blood elf turned and began to pick her way through the unkempt grass toward a broken stairway behind her. Climbing the stairs revealed a relatively restored open area of stone, upon which sat a raised dais, and on _that _was an orb held in midair by three rotating golden arms, each arm topped with a tiny dancing blood elf female channeling arcane magic from their hands, releasing a faint red aura.

"_Place your hand on the orb," _was all the female said before touching it herself and disappearing.

Mikael stared at where she had been a moment before, and cautiously - because what choice did he have at the moment? - he reached out and placed his palm flat against the orb. It was smooth and warm beneath his hand, and it seemed that in the span of time between blinking the dreary ruins of Lordaeron disappeared, to be replaced with an entirely different area.

He heard an impatient cough behind him, and turned to see the woman waiting on him.

_"This way."_

Mikael looked around a moment; before him was an identical orb to the one that had brought him here. On the walls were silk banners, and they were standing on a platform in a circular that held the orb that was accessed by a ramp curving up the wall to his right. A balcony on the far wall, perhaps eight feet off the floor, was to his left and held a chair and a table that bore the remains of a recent meal. Lining the ramp were more of those magical crystals he remembered seeing Liam possessing in his shop.

The female was already walking briskly down the ramp, heading for the single doorway on the floor below; Mikael hurried to catch up with her, and so nearly ran her over when she stopped on the immediate side of the threshold.

Now they stood at the top of two ramps, looking down over another circular room. It had weapons racks and coat of arms hanging on the walls, a veiled cushioned throne-like seat directly before them surrounded on either side with potted plants and more weapon racks. Fine rugs covered the floor, and piles of pillows sat here and there along with pipes and low braziers that smelled as pungent as the tobacco in the pipes.

Standing in the middle of the room, grouped together like they had come upon them in the middle of a meeting, stood three blood elf males. Two of them were blonde, one in red and brown armor with his hair pulled up in a ponytail high on his head, the other in green and brown scale mail with his hair worn long and held back by a simple headband. The third male had dark hair pulled tight to his skull, and wore red and gold, including a mask that covered the entire lower half of his face. Each had weapons visible, the man in red and brown having a wicked-looking warglaive strapped to his waist, the one in green bearing daggers, and the man in red and gold had a large red-bronze staff strapped to his back. The three turned to regard them as the female cleared her throat.

"_I present to you Regent Lord Lor'Themar Theron," _she said, gesturing to the male in the red and brown. "_Ranger-General Halduron Brightwing." _That was the one in the green. "_And Grand Magister Rommath." _The male in the red and gold.

Mikael swallowed hard and bowed formally.

Lor'Themar motioned for them to come down to their level, and Mikael stiffly followed his guide down the ramp to their right and came to stand before the three males. As he moved, he noted the guards standing at intervals along the walls, and swallowed hard again.

"_Thank you Lorena. You are dismissed."_

The female inclined her head and disappeared without a further word, leaving Mikael alone with the three elves. Lor'Themar then surprised Mikael as the elf turned to the guards. "_You too are dismissed. All of you."_

There was argument written on more than one face, but the guards filed out without complaint. When it was just the four males, Lor'Themar turned to Mikael and nodded to him.

"_Before you wonder, we are aware of what you are. Meraka spent a great deal of time convincing us of your good intentions toward the Horde, and also spoke highly of you. Were she anything other than one of the Warchief's advisors, we would have dismissed her requests outright." _He eyed Mikael, shaking his head. "_A decent enough illusion of one of our people, I must admit. You would pass anything but a close inspection."_

"_We have heard the story, human," _Halduron spoke up. "_Your encounter in Outland is an impressive tale."_

_ "Uh...thank you," _Mikael said quietly, doing his best to meet the gazes of the three. He had the incredible urge to stare at his feet - he'd never done well with nobility back in Stormwind, and he was essentially on his own here. "_I'm sorry, but I must admit I don't know why Meraka insisted I be sent here."_

_ "It is because of your sword," _Rommath sniffed. "_The final part of its reforging can only be done by one of our people, and can only be done here." _

Lor'Themar held up a hand, silencing Rommath. "_Allow me to explain. One of our mages here has a unique ability tied to the arcane addiction that plagues the blood elves. Through touch, at will, she can determine the exact nature of enchantments and magics through time and study. She has been invaluable to us in recovering the ruins of our cities and outposts, and because of this we are very reluctant to let her out of Silvermoon City. So, you were sent here, to her. She will determine what enchantments were once within your weapon, and replicate them."_

Lor'Themar began to pace back and forth, eying Mikael as he did so; Halduron and Rommath stepped back, sharing a glance between them that Mikael couldn't read. Finally, the Regent Lord cleared his throat.

"_I will be blunt, human. I was very, very uncomfortable with the idea of your presence here. Politics are dangerous, can destabilize the base of any power. Had Thrall not spoken for you himself, we would have refused the mage's requests, as well-worded as they were. But here is my predicament." _Lor'Themar gestured for them - Halduron and Rommath included - to seat themselves on the cushions, then sat down himself and continued. "_I have willingly allowed a human, the enemy of my allies, passage into my city. You are disguised, hidden, an outward lie to all who behold you. As I said, politics can destabilize any power base, and so while you are within my city you are bound by my rules."_

_ "Under no circumstances are you to remove whatever it is that is disguising you as a blood elf. Should you be discovered, revealed to be what you truly are, I will have no choice but to treat you as my enemy, even should that mean ordering your immediate execution."_

_ "Understood, and understandable," _Mikael said into the silence.

"_You will be going to dwell with the woman who will be restoring your sword. You are not to move about the city without her escorting you. You will not attempt to contact anyone outside of this city. I would prefer if you stayed out of sight as much as possible."_

Mikael bowed his head to him. "_I will abide by all your laws and requests. I'd be a fool to do otherwise."_

_ "With any luck, you will be on your way quickly, out of my city and no longer my problem. Halduron." _The Ranger General stood. "_Escort him. Remember my words, human."_

Halduron jerked his head toward the door behind them, and Mikael stood and followed him. They exited the room and walked out onto a long raised walkway, with twin long lines of guards to either side and a grand fountain down a wide stairway. A sun-filled courtyard separated the end of the stairs from the fountain, and a few blood elves hurried about on their business, ignoring guards that patrolled - both blood elves and massive constructs lumbering about - and especially ignoring the two males that stood at the top of the stairs overlooking them.

"_Follow."_

Without another word Halduron led the way, taking Mikael on a bewildering path through Silvermoon City, ducking through narrow alleys and skirting the edges of main thoroughfares; Mikael was amazed at the tall buildings glinting in the sun, at the towering trees covered in gold and green leaves. The city of the blood elves was beautiful, spoke of wealth and power at every turn; he was having a hard time keeping up with Halduron as he tried taking in as much of the city as he could.

Finally, they came out between two buildings into an area full of vendors shouting the value of their goods to any who would listen.

"_This is the Bazaar," _Halduron said bluntly. "_Our destination is close. Keep up."_

The Ranger General headed off through the press of people, having an easier time of moving as everyone around respectively stepped aside to allow him passage while Mikael had to fight the flow of traffic. Finally, having moved passed several small shops, Halduron stopped in front of one and waited for Mikael to catch up to him; without speaking, Halduron pushed the shop door open and motioned for Mikael to step inside.

He found himself standing in a dimly lit room, not as extravagantly decorated as everything else Mikael had seen thus far. He seemed to be in a wand shop, judging by the single case in the middle of the room; Halduron stood silently, apparently waiting, and and Mikael stood beside him, still gazing around the room. Now that he was looking, the room actually appeared to be more of a waiting area instead of a simple shop - there were chairs and tables along the walls, and there was only the one case full of the glittering wands. Against the far wall, all but hidden behind a partially shut door in the corner, was a set of stairs going up, and it was through this door that a female blood elf appeared.

She was thin and lithe, like the females of her race tended to be. Her hair was flame red and shoulder-length, her eyes were almond-shaped, with thin lips that were curled in a shy smile. The robes she wore were white with black embroidery along the hems, and she wore a tunic-like overjacket that was a pale green and fastened with black ribbons across her stomach, and a pair of black gloves that disappeared under the jacket sleeves. She didn't make a sound as she timidly stepped further into the room and paused just at the wand case.

"_Ranger General, sir," _she said softly, bowing to him.

"_I present to you Tal'Thera," _Halduron said. "_You will be remaining here with her until further notice."_

Mikael bowed deeply to her, vaguely aware that he was staring. "_I am honored to meet you."_

_ "I will leave you to become acquainted," _Halduron went on. He turned to leave, then suddenly leaned in close to Mikael. "_Know this, human. Every moment of every day, you will be watched. Any attempt to harm Tal'Thera or any other will be met with swift justice. You have been warned," _the blood elf hissed quietly.

_ "I would sooner fall on my own weapon than harm Tal'Thera, or any other. Your concerns are misplaced,"_ Mikael replied, just as quietly.

"_We shall see," _was his parting comment as the blood elf left.

That left Mikael standing awkwardly in the room with Tal'Thera, a wand case and a few feet of empty space separating them. She swallowed, then gave him another small smile.

"_I am sorry...I am unused to such unique company, or any company for that matter," _she said, clearing her throat nervously. Her voice was light and breathy, and she was rather quiet. "_I have...been anxious over the thought of having a human dwelling with me. I've never been this close to one."_

_ "I'm not much different from an elf," _he said, carefully letting his backpack slide to the floor at his feet. "_And, despite what you may think, or what others may have told you, you have my solemn vow that I will not harm you."_

She nodded. "_That is good. I..." _Trailing off, she shook her head and raised a hand to her mouth. "_I'm sorry, where are my manners? You must be tired from your journey here." _Beckoning him forward, she carefully backed toward the door she'd come through.

Mikael scooped up his pack in one hand and came around the wand case to stand near her - she was a few inches shorter than him, and smelled strongly of peacebloom. This close he could almost feel her tension, and could tell she was blushing madly. She swallowed again, then tipped her head up to look at him.

"_The living area is upstairs, above the shop. It is bigger than it appears from down here," _she said, and Mikael could tell she was talking simply to fill the silence. He followed as she led the way up the stairs, and they came out in a cozy sitting room, furnished with a few squashy armchairs and a low couch and table, with three doorways branching off from it.

"_Um. That door leads to the kitchen area. That one, the bedrooms. The other leads to my study," _she said, pointing out the doors starting from the one on their left.

She cleared her throat again. "_They are beside one another – the bedrooms, I mean. They were connected at one point in the past, as the wall between them bears marks of once having a door." _She let out a small chuckle and looked up at him. "_I'm not normally a babbling idiot, I swear. I'm merely nervous."_

He grinned down at her. "_I'm terrified I'm going to make a fool of myself, so I suppose we suit one another at the moment."_

_ "I suppose we do at that," _she agreed. "_Your room is the one nearest the outside wall. I'm afraid it looks over the Scar and the ruins, but you may draw the drapes there if the sight offends you. I find the room a tad too dark without the sunlight allowed in, however. And there I go, babbling again."_

_ "No, no, it's fine," _Mikael said quickly, almost dropping his backpack. "_I'm sorry, I usually unnerve people by being so quiet."_

_ "I am used to silence. I live alone." _Tal'Thera bowed slightly to him. "_You have dark circles beneath your eyes. You should rest."_

Mikael nodded, then chuckled. "_Never try sleeping on a zeppelin."_

_ "Oh goodness, did you really?" _she breathed, crossing her arms. "_Those are such dreadful death traps waiting to happen."_

As he stepped around her, heading for the middle door (that opened into a hallway, he found) he heard the woman drop into a chair. His back crawled - those parts of his back that still had feeling, anyhow - as he imagined he felt her gaze on him, and resisted the urge to turn back and look.

He was just pushing the door to his room open when he heard her soft voice behind him.

"_I wonder...what do you actually look like?"_

When he glanced back into the sitting room, she was nowhere to be seen, but he could hear what he thought was the brief tinkling of water into a glass from the kitchen. He smiled, stifled a yawn, and entered his room.

* * *

Sarah stepped off the elevator that had taken her down into the bowels of Lordaeron, into the Undercity. Her mentor would be waiting in the Apothecary.

The smell of rot and dust didn't bother her so much anymore as she walked through the city. After all, she bore the same smells too if she didn't work at covering her scent with herbals and ointments aimed at slowing the decay of her undead flesh.

She was, she thought wryly, dead tired from the zeppelin trip. In truth she hated the things, hated how cramped they were, but they were the quickest way from Orgrimmar back to Undercity if one didn't employ magical transportation. A necessary evil, Sarah supposed.

Hours later - her mentor was a windbag at times - she was settling into a borrowed bed in a hastily converted storage room just off the man's own bedroom. She had never stopped to wonder why she still insisted on clinging to certain habits – sleep being one of them. As an undead, did she really need sleep? Did her body actually, truly, tire as the day wore on? She knew she felt tired at times, but whether that was an indication of actually needing sleep – after all, she no longer needed to eat either, and that at least she'd mentally willed herself out of doing – or whether it was a habit from her living days, she wasn't certain yet.

The following morning, when her mentor would enlist the aid of others in breaking down the door, he would find an empty cot, obviously slept in but no sign of its occupant.


	5. Chapter 5

Mikael was surprised to find he slept through to the following morning - not recalling any nightmares when he awoke - and at first was confused as to where he was. When his sleep-fogged mind reminded him he was in the home of a blood elf, he relaxed back into his pillows and stared up at the ceiling.

He could faintly hear Tal'Thera walking around in her room, and after a moment soft singing reached his ears. The woman had a lovely singing voice, and while he couldn't understand a word she was saying, as he didn't have the translating shield pinned to him, he still smiled as he listened. Her singing grew louder for a moment as she stepped out of her room, then it grew quiet once more as she walked down the hallway toward the sitting room.

Mikael sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, stretching his arms and arching his back to loosen up the muscles beneath the binding on his back. A moment later, having dug clothing from his backpack, he slipped the magical necklace around his neck, pinned on his translating trinket and cautiously opened his door and poked his head out.

Tal'Thera almost came immediately into view, leaning around the corner and smiling timidly again.

"_G-good morning," _she said, stepping fully into the hallway. Today she wore robes the pink of a fading sunset secured with a thin white belt, wearing what he guessed were the same black gloves from the day before, and he wondered if the color in her cheeks was reflected from her clothing or if she was actually blushing.

"_Good morning," _he said, clearing his throat and stepping from his room. "_I uh...I'm not certain what I should expect now."_

With a silent gesture to follow her, she stepped out of sight around the corner; Mikael hurried from the hallway and found she wasn't in the sitting room. It took a moment to realize she was in the kitchen area, and he quietly stepped into the doorway to see her removing a kettle from a magical brazier sitting on a lacquered table attached to the wall.

The kitchen itself was very simple, with only the table and two cabinets hanging above it. A potted tree sat in the corner just inside the doorway, and the room itself was painted a plain tan with dark wooden flooring. Mikael stood in one doorway, and another doorway was at the other end of the somewhat narrow room; it was closed tightly, a solid wood-paneled door that was stained the same color as the flooring.

Tal'Thera gestured at one of the cabinets and the door silently opened, allowing two cups to float down and settle gently on the table near the brazier. She sat the kettle down on the table just behind the cups and turned to the second cabinet, opening it and pulling free a brown cloth sack that smelled strongly of mageroyal and star orchid. Carefully she removed two pinches of what appeared to be dried red and white leaves, which she dropped into the cups before returning the sack to the cabinet.

"_Do you like tea?"_

_ "I don't think I've had it too often, to be truthful," _Mikael replied, watching as she poured hot water from the kettle into the cups.

She picked a cup, motioned at the shut door - which promptly unlocked and opened a crack - then retrieved the other cup and glanced back at Mikael before stepping to the door and nudging it open with a toe and stepping outside. After a moment's pause, Mikael followed her and found himself standing on a sunny balcony overlooking the Bazaar; the balcony itself was wide, one end of it having what appeared to be an herb garden arranged in neat planters, the other having a small table with four chairs tucked in around it. Tal'Thera had seated herself in one of the chairs, the cups of tea sitting on the table before her, and eyed him as he stepped out into the sun.

They were up high enough that he could see blood elves moving about down below, but really couldn't see much in the way of distinct features. For a moment he simply leaned on the railing, a golden thing that looked like a gust of wind cast in metal, and watched the elves down below; he had seen scenes like this before played out in countless towns, and supposed that behind their armies and their prejudices, at their most basic levels, Horde and Alliances cities and the lives of those within them weren't different from one another at all.

He turned, feeling rather awkward as he found that Tal'Thera still was looking at him, and after a few breaths they realized they were both staring at one another.

Tal'Thera turned, giggling into a hand. "_I'm sorry, I don't mean to stare. You are nothing like I expected, and...I admit, I so rarely have visitors that don't mind being spoken to. I'm...both terrified of you, and excited by your presence. I truly don't mean to stare."_

_ "I don't either."_

_ "I have never been this close to a human. You are my enemy, yet you aren't hostile. You call orc and troll, and tauren I have heard, friend. You are an enigma to me, I must admit. I am fascinated."_

Mikael walked over and pulled out a chair, seating himself across from her and accepting the cup of tea she pushed toward him with a nod. He remained silent, thinking a moment, then shrugged.

"_Horde and Alliance can, if not live in total harmony, at least place their differences aside in Outland and live and work side by side as they strive to rid what remains of Draenor of the Legion's presence," _he said quietly, his fingers drumming on the side of his cup. "_I have traveled a lot in my life, I've seen most of the races, interacted with a lot of them. Both our sides have their unsavory types. I honestly have nothing against anyone, so long as they aren't trying to harm me or others...that's asking a lot of people, though, to compromise on the 'not killing one another' thing."_

_ "That is true. Both sides must be willing to make compromises on all manner of things, something few people seem to understand or agree on," _Tal'Thera said sullenly, a sudden darkness passing over her features. She shook her head and sipped her tea, eying him from over the cup. "_It's hard to forget the past, human."_

_ "Tell me about it," _he whispered. As she looked at him curiously, he quickly raised his cup of tea and sniffed at it - it smelled like wet leaves - and took a sip. The taste was certainly better than the smell, light on his tongue and vaguely tasted like nectar - not an unpleasant taste by far, but certainly different from anything he'd ever tried before.

Tal'Thera sat her cup on the table, focusing on it. "_I will be honest with you, Mikael Sullivan. I am not very social..or at least, I am so unused to being so that I will appear terrible at it." _She slowly raised her gaze to his. "_I will try not to ask too many questions of you, and simply do the task required of me so you may be on your way." _

"_The Regent Lord seems very eager to get me out of Silvermoon," _Mikael said, taking another drink of his tea before returning the cup to the table.

She nodded, then inhaled deeply and blew out her breath slowly, then nodded again. "_Do you...mind if I ask you about yourself? About your travels? I am curious of the outside world..." _A rather sad, tired look crossed her face briefly, and he wondered at it; just as quickly as it had appeared, however, it disappeared to be replaced with a look of polite curiosity.

"_Uh..." _Mikael said into the silence then, thinking. He really didn't feel up to discussing anything that had anything to do with the events of five years ago, and unfortunately that would include everything except for his very early childhood, something he doubted she would find very interesting.

She shook her head violently, hair falling forward over her face. "_Oh...forgive me. I won't pry if it makes you uncomfortable-"_

_ "No no," _Mikael said quickly, flattening both hands on the table. "_It's just..." _ He ran a hand through his hair, fidgeting in his seat. "_How much did Meraka tell you about me?"_

_ "Not much," _she said, resting her elbows on the table and leaning forward to prop her chin in one hand. "_Only that you vanquished a powerful foe in battle, and during that battle you were forced to destroy your weapon to save yourself and everyone else."_

_ "That is a rather trimmed down version of events," _he said, sighing heavily. "_That...that was not a good time, and it's something I'd honestly rather forget, impossible as it may be proving thus far."_

She tilted her head sideways, regarding him. "_Why would you wish to forget saving the lives of countless beings?"_

_ "Because I had to destroy something dear to me, and I don't mean my weapon," _he replied quietly.

Tal'Thera flinched, a grimace crossing her face. "_I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dredge up unwelcome memories."_

_ "You didn't. It's something I can't forget, no matter how hard I try." _'Because HE won't let me,' he thought to himself.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, looking at her. "_I just...think of something that means the world to you. Something you admired, you loved. Then picture the ultimate act of betrayal that results in you destroying that one thing. It...it was not a good time for me," _he hissed, shaking his head.

"_I'm...I'm sorry," _she said softly.

"_It's not your fault," _Mikael said, forcing himself to smile - and forcing down any thoughts of Datavian or anyone else from that time - and sipping from his cup again. "_Someone once told me I had seen more tragedy than any one person need see in their entire lifetime. Part of me is inclined to agree with them, and the other part is well aware of the number of people in our time that have seen their fare share of sorrow as well. I don't want pity or scorn, I just want to live a quiet life."_

She nodded. "_A quiet life would be welcome for many." _They lapsed into silence, drinking their tea, the bustle of the elves below repeatedly drawing Mikael's attention despite his attempts to keep his attention on Tal'Thera.

After awhile she sat her cup on the table with a click that startled him, and he sheepishly focused on her again.

"_Sorry..."_

"_It's okay," _she giggled, resting her chin on folded hands. "_I understand if your attention wanders." _She inhaled deeply. "_To answer your question from earlier..."_

_ "My question?"_

_ "Well, it wasn't stated as such, but I will answer it anyway. What to expect here." _She ran a gloved finger around the lip of her cup, staring down at it. "_Every morning I wake, have a cup of tea, work all morning and afternoon on whatever project I am assigned to, then evenings I cook dinner - my only meal of the day because otherwise I am too busy - and spend what little time I have before I sleep reading." _She gestured back inside, and Mikael could almost picture her seated in one of the chairs with a book in her lap. "_Curling up with a book before bed helps me sleep," _she added, smiling.

"_I imagine your time here will be rather boring. I've been told you cannot go anywhere without me, and I do not leave my home unless I require something from the market. Additionally, I do not leave the city at all unless Kael- unless the Regent Lord calls for my presence," _she said, catching herself mid-sentence and correcting herself. "_I will adjust my routine according to your needs, however." _

Mikael shook his head with a shrug, inwardly turning her words over in his mind - 'I do not leave my home' and 'I do not leave the city at all' she'd said, not unless someone called her; he felt something was...amiss, about that. "_Your schedule is fine, don't alter your life on my account." _He drained his tea cup and sat it back on the table carefully. "_I'll try to keep out of sight and out of your way." _

She nodded and stood, her expression suddenly guarded, gathering their cups and heading back inside. Mikael got up to follow her, and as he stepped into the doorway a furry blur rushed between his legs and bounded into the sitting room.

"_What was that?"_

He found, with some surprise, that Tal'Thera paused long enough to place their tea cups on the table before bending down in the floor, a white cat with black markings on its paws circling her and nuzzling her sides and hands. The blood elf looked up at him, laughing.

"_This is Sneak Thief."_

_ "You named your cat Sneak Thief?"_

She laughed again, scooping up the feline and standing. "_No, that's just what she is. She is a town cat, a stray. She always found a way inside my shop, so I eventually just started leaving the balcony door open for her." _Sneak Thief was purring loudly as Tal'Thera scratched her under the chin, then meowed loudly when the elf suddenly transferred her over to Mikael.

"_She keeps me company some days," _she said.

Mikael gently rubbed the cat's ears, wincing as she began to knead her claws into his arm. "_She seems friendly enou- hey!" _he protested when Sneak Thief squirmed from his grasp and clambered up onto his shoulder, rubbing her head against his face.

"_She's very friendly," _Tal'Thera chuckled, reaching up to scratch her under the chin. "_Amazing that no one claims ownership of her. She goes where she pleases, anytime she wants..." _The smile on the blood elf's face seemed to lessen a tad bit. "_I envy her sometimes." _With a sigh, Tal'Thera crossed her arms and turned on her heel. "_I might as well begin-"_

_ "Why do you envy a cat?" _Mikael interrupted, prying a purring Sneak Thief from his shoulder and setting her down on the back of the nearby chair.

"_She isn't confined to one area," _Tal'Thera replied quietly. "_Now, bring me your sword, if you will," _she continued on, hurrying into her workshop. For a moment Mikael simply stood and stared after where she'd gone – again, he had that feeling of something being amiss...

Mikael detoured to his room to retrieve Spellcleaver from where it rested near his bed, then quietly walked into Tal'Thera's workshop. It was the biggest room by far in the blood elf's home, and was incredibly neat and tidy compared to some of the other studies he had seen. There were three tables in the room, two smaller ones pushed to either side of the door, and one large one that stretched across the center of the room. Bookshelves and storage cabinets lined the walls, all organized and well-labeled in Thalassian - he hadn't a clue what they said, as it wasn't verbal and his trinket couldn't translate it - with neat, precise handwriting on the labels. Soft blue light came from the enchanted crystals that hung between cabinets and just above the tables in the room, as the room didn't possess any windows. His own mother's study hadn't been...

He wrenched his thoughts from that and looked around, seeking Tal'Thera; he spied her in the far corner, standing in front of a bookshelf and seemingly perusing the titles of the books lining the shelves. She looked up when he cleared his throat, gestured for him to seat himself at the table in the center of the room and then continued eying the books. Just as Mikael was locating a low stool tucked under the table, she joined him and dropped a enormous tome onto the tabletop, leaning forward to watch as Mikael laid his sword down between them.

"_Quite a marvelous sword," _she said, running fingers down the blade.

"_Tal'Thera, why do you wear gloves?" _Mikael asked suddenly, his gaze on her hands.

She quickly pulled her hands from view, hiding them in her lap. "_I...have a duty to my people," _she said quietly. "_Surely the Regent Lord has told you my particular talent?"_

_ "He said you can tell what sort of magic is in an object, but he didn't go into detail."_

Tal'Thera inhaled, then brought her hands up onto the table once more, turning her palms upward. "_If I don't idly touch things, my senses regarding magic are heightened," _she explained. "_I'm told to wear them so my skill-"_

_ "Told?"_

_ "Yes," _she said slowly, "_told."_

Mikael eyed her. "_Who tells you?"_

_ "Prince Kael'Thas first did. Lor'Themar has upheld that order."_

She fell silent and refused to meet his gaze as she tugged off her gloves - and he could see that they would reach almost to her elbow under her sleeves - and then held her bare hands over Spellcleaver.

"_I must warn you," _she said, flexing her fingers. "_Object sympathy can sometimes tell someone more about you than you wish them to know." _She tilted her chin down, gazing up at him from behind a curtain of her hair. "_Do you understand what I am hinting at?"_

_ "Not exactly, as I don't truly understand what object sympathy is."_

_ "Object sympathy is more than reading the magic left over in an item. A person who is skilled can tell something of the people who have possessed a thing." _She inhaled deeply then blew out, ruffling her hair. "_Take, for instance, your sword. I will be able to tell what enchantments once lay in the metal, but also I may see who made it. If a particularly strong emotion was afflicting you while you held this weapon, I may glimpse part of that moment. If...you are uncomfortable with the idea of my possibly witnessing a moment of your past, then I will have to utilize other methods to determine what may have once enchanted your sword."_

Mikael leaned back on the stool, eying his sword as he digested her words. His thoughts were on one thing and only one thing as he repeated her words over in his mind: Datavian.

'Strong emotion...what could be stronger than how I felt when I killed him?' he thought to himself sourly. 'Do I want her seeing that? Is there any guarantee that that's what she'll glimpse? Will she even glimpse anything?'

He really, really did not want to have to explain any of that, not to her.

'You never found my body,' echoed in his mind. As though he didn't feel bad enough having killed him, he hadn't even been given the chance to give his brother a proper burial.

'I didn't have a choice,' he reminded himself, for all the good it would do. It hadn't eased his conscience the last five years, it wouldn't ease it now.

"_Wait, I-" _He jerked suddenly and reached out, catching her hands just before she touched her fingers to Spellcleaver's hilt, and she flinched away from his touch with a gasp. "_I'm sorry, I didn't, I mean-"_

_ "No, no, it's fine, you just...touched me," _she said, tugging her hands from him and rubbing them together like she'd been burned. "_I wasn't expecting that."_

Mikael looked down at his hands, then up at her. "_You...got something from me?"_

_ "Only a brief sense of you, don't worry," _she said distractedly, waving away further comment. "_Um. If you aren't wishing me to touch the sword, I understand."_

_ "I...come on. There's a few things I guess I should tell you."_

He inhaled deeply and reached across the table, taking her hands in his and pulling her up as he stood; she again flinched at his touch, looking dazed, but warily allowed him to move her around the table, and guide her into her own sitting room to a chair. He dropped into a chair near hers - and let go of her hands in the process - and ran a hand through his hair, biting his lower lip.

'Here we go,' he thought.

"_I...want you to restore Spellcleaver to what it once was," _Mikael started slowly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, staring between his legs at the floor. "_I just, well. You asked me before about my past because you were curious. If there's any chance at all of you accidentally seeing part of it, I...guess I want you to understand what you're seeing."_

She was staring at him curiously and he forced a smile, wondering if he was insane for even considering telling her about everything. He'd done his best to keep silent on everything since his return to Stormwind, only telling his story to prove he was no longer demonically possessed or swayed in any way; sometimes someone who shouldn't have known anything about him came to him with rumors of what had happened in Outland, and so he'd been forced to set them straight and send them on their way but...

He'd endured close scrutiny from the warlocks of Stormwind, and the priests and paladins he still dwelled among - even though they welcomed him still as a brother of the Light, he knew they watched him closely and despised the dark arts he'd turned to when his connection to the Light had been severed. Stormwind was full of people who gave him guarded looks, full of those who sought him out to hopefully learn whatever made him so powerful, as if he could teach them what it meant to be ley-touched, as A'dal had referred to him.

"_When I was younger," _he said, still deeply wondering if he was about to regret this, "_my brother...fell. Fell to evil. He slaughtered my mother, inflicted my father with an illness, and attempted to turn me to whatever darkness he followed. I didn't fall, he fled, and up until five years ago I spent my life searching for him, intending to bring him to justice. I fought with myself over what justice meant to me...in the end, I found there was no hope of ever bringing him back and rebuilding my shattered family, and..." _ Mikael looked passed Tal'Thera, into the workshop where he knew Spellcleaver still lay on the table. "_...and I was forced to kill him. I plunged Spellcleaver through his heart." _Lapsing into silence, Mikael could see the scene clearly every time he blinked, as though it were painted on the inside of his eyelids. He saw the flash of steel, the back of Datavian's robes, the sword rising like a banner from his brother's chest, and then felt the shift in weight as he slid to the ground and laid there and died. Mikael shivered, flexing his hands to rid himself of the sensation. "_I killed my own brother. I had no choice. He was under the sway of the same demon that possessed me, and attempted to use me as a weapon of destruction. Spellcleaver was shattered when I destroyed the demon...in one day I destroyed two of the things that mattered most to me: my brother, and the weapon my parents created together, Spellcleaver."_

Once again he fell silent; Tal'Thera sat rigidly in her chair, staring at him. For the longest time they merely sat there, Mikael lost in the past and Tal'Thera...

He jumped when he felt a soft touch on his hand, and looked up to see Tal'Thera had leaned forward to rest her hand on his. He noticed she didn't flinch, and wondered if her special talent was random, like some sort of prophetic vision, or if she was willing herself to remain still.

"_I am sorry for your loss...and now I understand why I should not have asked you about your past," _she said quietly. "_I am, however, thankful that you trusted me enough to share this with me, so that I may be more prepared for what I might encounter while examining your sword."_

_ "I understand loss of family all too well," _the blood elf went on, returning her hands to her lap, her eyes appearing to lose focus. "_My mother followed Prince Kael'Thas to Outland, two of my sisters went with her. I have not seen nor heard anything from them since. My father searches for my mother, and my remaining siblings have died to one thing or another. My brother was killed protecting innocents from the Scourge, my oldest sister died in childbirth, and my next-oldest drowned when the ship she was sailing on was caught by a storm and torn apart." _She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "_I do not live alone because I choose to, I live alone because I have no choice...I have no choice in many things in my life." _She went to stand, but then found her lap full of cat as Sneak Thief took advantage of the seated elf and dropped into her lap from the back of the chair.

Tal'Thera smiled and stroked the feline, no doubt glad to have something to focus on that wasn't so depressing. Mikael leaned back in the chair, covering his face with both hands as he sighed heavily.

"_I didn't mean to depress you, but I didn't want you surprised, or horrified, or-"_

He didn't hear her move, but suddenly he had a face full of purring fur; peeking out from between his fingers he found a whiskery face nose to nose with him, and smiled despite himself. Beyond Sneak Thief's head he could see Tal'Thera standing, smiling down at him.

"_After having...glimpsed a part of you, I could hardly change my opinion of you after having touched an instrument of war," _she said softly. "_Weapons represent the worst part of us, the part that is destructive and mindless. I could hardly judge you on a brief instinct imparted from a bit of metal," _she said...and then looked horrified herself, clapping her hands over her mouth. "_Oh, oh I didn't mean to imply that your weapon was worthless, I-"_

Now it was Tal'Thera's turn to have a purring cat shoved at her, as Mikael lunged to his feet and draped the cat around her shoulders.

"_I didn't take it that way, don't worry. I suppose in a way, it really IS just a bit of metal. It's no more a piece of my mother than a book or a robe...just a memory." _He dropped back into his chair, looking up at her. "_Do I have to sit in there with you, or will that bother you?"_

_ "It is your choice. I'm not actually certain how having someone around will affect me," _she said sheepishly, ignoring the fact that she had several inches of tail waving in her face.

"_I'll stay out of your way for now...I guess I should visit the past for a bit, since I've dredged it up," _Mikael said, rotating his shoulders. "_Always best to examine it fully before you put it away again."_

_ "Yes, always best," _she agreed, turning and fleeing back into her workshop.

"_Uh...what DID you 'glimpse' of me, having just touched my hands?" _he called after her.

She paused in the doorway, stiffening. "_...n-nothing of any importance," _she stammered. "_It's quite embarrassing, really...for me, not for you," _she added hurriedly. "_It's ridiculous."_

_ "Tell me?"_

Her back was still to him, and he was beginning to wonder if she intended to tell him when finally, after a long moment, she sighed heavily.

"_You are an incredibly gentle man, for as powerful as you are," _she said in a rush before escaping into her workshop and out of his view.

He stared blankly after her, wondering what in the world she could have felt to have come to that conclusion - essentially a true one, but she was wrong in saying it was embarrassing only for her as he felt faintly embarrassed himself – and also a touch worried about what she might have seen to come to that conclusion. Rubbing a hand over his face, he let his footsteps take him back into his room, where he fell onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling, remembering a past he wished he could change.

* * *

She inhaled deeply, composing herself and willing her heart to stop racing. Absently she rubbed her hands together, then caught herself doing it and clenched them into fists at her sides instead.

How she hated wearing those blasted gloves! Angrily she glared at them where they lay near the human's sword on her worktable; she'd worn them for so long, under orders from her superiors, and now it appeared she was getting so sensitive that she was picking up things just from skin to skin contact!

Trembling both from nerves and from a mild degree of anger, Tal'Thera crossed the room and flopped onto the stool she'd vacated a moment earlier, when Mikael had pulled her gently from the room and talked to her.

Thinking of the human made her pause. She honestly hadn't expected him to tell her of his past - she'd caught on rather quick that he had some hidden pain when she had first asked him - and now that he'd come clean with her, she felt incredibly horrible over having brought the issue up. Having had a difficult family life herself, she knew the pain that came with the territory; she terribly missed her parents, and mourned her lost brother and sisters whenever their memories came to mind, and oftentimes found herself wondering how different her life would be now had her family stayed together. She had genuinely wanted to spare him any embarrassing moments, if she saw anything personal of his when she examined the sword, but...it seemed all she'd done was bring up bad memories they both seemed determined to forget.

She suddenly found herself wondering if she would have even met the warlock in her sitting room, had his family never been shattered by evil and hers not torn apart, and immediately shook her head. It was a foolish thing, to dream of what could have been, and to dwell on things of the past that could never be changed, and it was especially foolish to dream of things that had nothing to do with her.

Sneak Thief leapt from her perch on the blood elf's shoulders and dropped to the floor, grooming herself before wandering from the room. Tal'Thera found herself wondering if she would be finding a comfortable spot in a certain human's lap, and then smiled a bit as she thought about the friendly cat climbing all over the warlock. But then...again, she felt a surge of jealously as she watched the tip of her tail whisk out of sight around the corner, and with a soft growl she flung her hands out and held them, trembling, just over Spellcleaver with one over the blade and one hovering over the hilt. She would focus on her work, like she always did, and forget about her life and where it was going...or not going.

Tentatively, she draped her fingers over the weapon and concentrated.

It was like an electric shock. She'd never felt such object sympathy, never felt an item so eager to share its history with her, as though the sword had a mind and life all its own and had been waiting for someone to talk to.

It was definitely the warlock's sword; she could feel his presence so acutely it was almost as though the human was there himself, standing behind her, leaning over to watch her work. She resisted the urge to turn and check behind her, and instead kept probing at the sword's secrets - not so secret anymore, as the weapon was almost forcing itself upon her.

A fair, blonde-haired woman flitted through her thoughts, along with a dark-haired male that could have been Mikael in another two, three decades. She felt love and pride, and felt the heat of the forge and the etching of magic nibbling away at her senses - this was the sword's birth, then, these two humans she saw being its creators, Mikael's parents.

She willed that image away and began to wind her way into the enchantments she could feel emanating from the hilt of the weapon. Very powerful magic, even though it was reduced to a shadow of what it had once been, leapt at her mind and raced through her senses; mentally she was beginning to rebuild the magic she could sense, and was actually beginning to wonder if she even had the skill required to replace them. Whomever Mikael's mother had been, she had been truly talented at enchanting to have placed such complex spells into the sword without destroying it.

Springing up as sudden as a spring storm, Tal'Thera found herself staring into another glimpse of Mikael's past: the sensation of hot blood on her hands and the gut-wrenching sorrow of loss hit her hard like a punch to the stomach, sent her bending over the table and gasping for air as she tore herself free from the memory and was forced to pull her hands away from the blade.

"Anar'alah belore...vendel'o eranu," she whispered, holding herself as she shook. There was always the danger of falling a little too far into an object, delving too deep, and she hated how she felt afterward when getting hit by such powerful emotions.

Usually it was a head-rush of elation, or the raging after effects of pure undiluted rage, those were common occurrences, but never before had she felt such a gut-punch of guilt and sorrow. She gazed down at her hands and for a moment could almost imagine the blood stains on them; with a blink she found she stared at her own clean hands, and sighed shakily. Swallowing hard, blinking back tears that welled up in her eyes as she fought against the self-loathing and the guilt, Tal'Thera pulled a quill and a bottle of ink to her, then searched about until she found a blank sheet of parchment and then began to make a list of spells and components she believed she would need for those spells she'd recognized.

She looked at Spellcleaver, twinkling serenely in the light from the illuminating crystals hanging over the table, and shivered despite herself; she knew she would need to examine it further to be certain she'd analyzed and identified all the magic present, so she could restore the sword to its former glory, and frankly, she wasn't certain her nerves could handle another surprise like the one she'd just received.

'Think of something that means the world to you. Something you admired, you loved. Then picture the ultimate act of betrayal that results in you destroying that one thing.' Mikael's words from earlier came to mind, and she shivered again, picturing herself instead of him plunging the sword home and being drenched in blood, and-

She stopped, letting the quill drop to the table and shoving herself back, taking a deep breath and wrapping her arms around her as she shook uncontrollably. The thought of her slaying anyone was enough to make bile rise in her throat; the thought of it actually being one of her own family made her stomach knot painfully.

Slowly, Tal'Thera turned and gazed through the doorway into the sitting room, finding it empty, and feeling an unidentified pang of emotion in the pit of her stomach. She chewed at her lower lip, looking from the sword back out into the sitting room, then looking down at her trembling hands.

There was no point in going back to the sword, not today, not after that, and she found that she actually desired company – company, or some sort of distraction from what she'd gleaned. She turned back to the parchment and ink, determined to get at least most of the components and diagrams written out today...and was surprised at the urge growing within her, the need to locate the warlock and...

And...something. The emotion was odd - the urge to seek someone's company even odder still for the reclusive blood elf - and she didn't have a name for it. She felt her curiosity about the human rise, and wondered if he would mind her questioning him again. He was something of an enigma to her, and armed as she was with a very brief summary of his past she was still hungering to know more, especially if she was going to be sorting through whatever the sword showed her. Her mother had once said she possessed an insane need to learn as much as possible; Tal'Thera wondered how the woman would have felt had she known she craved knowledge on a human warlock she barely knew.

Actually, the thought of how her mother would react just knowing a human was under her daughter's roof was enough to bring a smile to Tal'Thera's face.

Casting a glance at the sitting room once more - like she believed just hoping to spot the human there would magically conjure him up - she returned her attention to the parchment and ink, and began to list out what she believed she needed. Retrieving the rest of the spells from the sword could wait another day, and maybe she would keep Mikael in the room with her next time in case she found herself reeling again.

* * *

She found him, later that evening, watching the sun set over the far edge of the city, leaning on the balcony railing. She had prepared their evening meal without even realizing he was outside; if Sneak Thief hadn't been pawing at the door to be let out, the likelihood of her finding him on her own would have been slim.

Silently regarding him from the doorway, she wondered what exactly was going through his mind at the moment. She rubbed gloved fingers against the door frame and finally inhaled.

"_Do you...still feel guilty about it, sometimes?"_

He didn't turn to look at her, but she saw his shoulders droop, saw him hunch into himself.

"_So you saw it."_

"_I didn't see it, not exactly. It would be more accurate to say I felt it," _she said quietly, walking out to stand beside him. She placed her hands on the railing and lightly leaned on it, looking out over the Bazaar to avoid looking up at him. "_I am glad you forewarned me."_

_ "Yeah," _he said quietly.

The sun began to sink from view, casting the city in bright pink and orange hues; Tal'Thera, despite herself, found her attention and her gaze kept wandering up to the silent human - disguised as a blood elf, still - standing beside her. He seemed to stare aimlessly out over Silvermoon, his expression blank and unreadable; more than ever she wondered what he was thinking about.

"_You never answered my question," _she said finally.

"_Which?"_

_ "Do you still feel guilty? About killing him, I mean."_

The breath he inhaled was shaky, and the smile that crept across his face didn't reach his eyes as he turned to look down at her.

"_What do you think?"_

She swallowed hard and let her gaze drop to the floor. "_I am sorry I brought up unpleasantries. I would have never asked about any of it, had I known the depth of-"_

He waved her silent, shaking his head. "_It's okay. I guess I've been somewhat of an idiot, thinking I could merely forget about it...he won't let me forget," _he added quietly, bending to rest his arms on the railing, leaning out over the edge and staring straight down. "_He visits me, every night, in my nightmares. He has done so consistently since I killed him. I...we never located his body, after all the fighting was over. I wasn't well enough to search for it for quite some time, but my friends did. I think their friendship and love for me drove them to search harder than anyone else...but we never found him." _Mikael sighed deeply, and Tal'Thera watched as his smile faded, to be replaced with a look that was...incredibly sad.

"_I was forced to destroy him, and wasn't even given the chance to give him a proper burial. He punishes me in my dreams for it."_

_ "No," _Tal'Thera said sharply, looking up at him. "_You punish yourself."_

He shook his head. "_And how could you know that?"_

_ "Because I've seen the look in your eyes before. I saw it many times in my own mirror," _she went on, forcing her hands open when she realized she was gripping the railing so hard it was cutting into her fingers through her gloves. "_I often blamed myself for Bowan's death. I could have been there, helping him and my people fight that day. But I didn't. I was frightened out of my wits, and instead was sent with the rest of the women and children away from the camp we had built as a rest point for those fleeing the Scourge." _Clenching and unclenching her fists, she finally held up her hands, palms out, to Mikael. "_I cursed myself when I heard of his death. I was so certain I could have done something to spare him had I been there, but I am no fighter. I was a scared little girl that day...but it finally occurred to me that, even had I been there, he would have been no safer." _Letting one hand drop to her side, she placed the other on his shoulder. "_We can't beat ourselves up over the past, it's over and done with. What you did was far more noble than what I have done - just the thought of combat is enough to weaken my knees and turn my stomach. Part of living with past regrets is to realize that we can't change them. My brother died defending those he loved; you destroyed your brother defending those who needed your protection. There is no shame in guarding others."_

_ "I sought my brother with vengeance in my heart. There is nothing noble about revenge," _Mikael said bluntly. "_Revenge in the name of justice is still revenge, and it's what caused- _ Immediately he fell quiet.

"_Caused what_?_" _

"_Nothing," _he snapped, lightly shrugging her hand from his shoulder. "_It's nothing. I've moved on from it."_

_ "Perhaps you should focus on what you have gained, instead of what you have lost," _she said after a minute or so of tense silence. "_You, at least, have that."_

She turned to head inside, and heard the scuffle of feet behind her.

"_And you don't?"_

Pausing in the doorway, she glanced back and smiled thinly. "_No, I don't."_

She held the door open as he entered behind her, shutting and locking it once he was passed her. When she turned around she found he hadn't moved all that far into the room, and was standing within touching distance, looking down at her.

"_What do you mean, 'you don't?'"_

_ "I mean just that. I don't really have anything I've gained to focus on," _she said wearily. "_To put things simply, Mikael Sullivan, I am a caged bird. I am pretty to look at, my singing is admired, but I am wholly at the mercy of those who care for me." _She waggled her hands at him. "_Do you think I enjoy wearing these constantly? They make me so sensitive that even simple things such as touching your hand is enough to cause me to pick up on things I'd be better off not knowing, or at least better off learning on my own through conventional means." _Gently she placed hands on his chest and pushed him out of her way, back against the wall, and brushed passed him. "_When I said I do not leave my home, it is because they see to it that I have little reason to. My food is delivered weekly, this home was given to me, and I am watched like a hawk watches a mouse in the fields when I decide to leave. I eventually grew so weary of it all that I've quit going outside beyond sitting on my balcony and wondering what life among real people is actually like."_

_ "Then stop. Don't let them control you."_

'Easier said than done,' she thought sourly. "_I cannot simply abandon my duty to my people. Despite being placed in a cage, I do do important work here. I...I want to find a cure for my peoples' arcane addiction. When I am not involved in recovering artifacts for the Regent Lord, or helping people identify belongings of lost loved ones, I am working on finding a stable source of power that won't prove harmful or addicting." _She paused, noting he was looking at her oddly. "_What?"_

He shrugged, then shook his head. "_Nothing."_

_ "No, what? What was that look for?"_

He cleared his throat, smiling - almost shyly, it seemed to her - and shrugged again. "_That's the most I've heard you talk since I got here...you're not as quiet as you seem."_

She flushed bright red all the way up to the tips of her pointy ears. "_I...am suddenly very uncomfortable with this conversation..." _she stuttered, backing away rapidly until she felt the backs of her legs contact one of her chairs - she'd backed completely out of the kitchen and into her sitting room. "_I have prepared dinner, m-my workshop is where I usually dine." _She gestured idly that way, feeling incredibly self-conscious and exposed for some reason.

"_If you can summon that much fire with me, why can't you stand up to your own people?" _he asked quietly.

A look of exquisite horror came over her features. "_I could never refuse my superiors!"_

He sighed, crossing his arms. "_I will make you a deal, Tal'Thera. When I first arrived here, you wondered what I actually looked like." _He slid a hand beneath the collar of his shirt and tugged, coming back up with a necklace draped over his fingers, from which dangled what looked like a shining marble. "_I will show you what I look like, and you...you don't wear your gloves while you're around me." _His expression softened, and she found it still unreadable. "_No one should walk a path they don't wish to travel," _he said in a whisper, his eyes losing their focus a moment, like he stared at some far-off place only he could see.

She would have to ponder that look later; for now she repeatedly shook her head. "_No, no I _can't _and if they...if they spot you as a human and you cause a panic they'll execute you!"_

_ "A risk I'm willing to take." _He gestured at the home around them. "_The only room with windows facing where people can see me is the kitchen, and that's only if I walk out on the balcony. Those watching me already know I'm a human, and no one else can possibly see me. There is no harm in showing you what I truly look like."_

She stared at him, thinking this was truly madness. Not only was he disobeying a direct order from the Regent Lord, but he was trying to convince her to do the same!

She nodded.

He nodded back, and reached up to remove the necklace he held; she quickly crossed the room and caught his hands in hers, shaking her head.

"_N-not...not here."_

Swallowing and taking a deep breath to try and calm a suddenly racing heart, she tugged him into her workshop and, out of paranoia more than actually thinking they would be spotted, shut the door behind her. Behind him she could see their meal sitting on the table - buttered vegetables, as she tended not to eat meat all that often, and a bowl of fresh fruit alongside a wineskin and a pitcher of water - but ignored it as she timidly stepped closer, shooing his hands away and grasping the necklace herself.

She carefully lifted it over his head, smoothing his hair down his shoulders as she did so, and watched as the disguising magics returned him to his natural form. His ears shrank down to their normal rounded shape and size, his eyes became a pretty blue and gained pupils and whites. His jawline thickened somewhat, losing his lean elven features and filling out slightly, his hair remaining the same while his body became heavier, a bit more muscled and toned. With a hand trembling ever so slightly, she reached up and rested her fingers against his cheek, turning his head this way and that to get a good look at him; he was handsome, for a human, and she found herself blushing again even as she thought it.

Mikael reached up and grabbed her hand gently, sliding his hand up her sleeve; she froze in terror, but he only slipped his fingers in the top of her glove and tugged down, sliding the silk glove free of her hand. He shoved it into his belt and did the same with her other hand, then nodded to her.

"_No wearing these around me," _he said, stepping back from her.

She found herself staring down at her bare hands, biting her lower lip. If Lor'Themar found out-

She jumped when suddenly a goblet half-full of wine was shoved between her hands; she looked up to find Mikael carefully pouring a goblet for himself, and was surprised when he held out his goblet to her, smiling.

"_It'll be our secret."_

Tal'Thera swallowed hard and nodded, then lightly tapped her goblet against his.

* * *

Donnovan kissed her forehead, his typical greeting for his daughter, and then nodded to Sevei, the draenei always a few steps behind his wife.

"What does the cranky old coot want now?"

He almost regretted asking when he saw Sal's face darken, and wondered what Fandral had done to make her mad this time.

"He can tell you that himself when we get back to Darnassus," she growled.

He looked over the top of her head at Sevei, who gave him a warning shake of the head; Donnovan wisely decided not to ask, and simply stood up and dusted fresh soil from his hands.

"Moon lilies," he said into the silence, looking down at his handiwork. He'd managed, without the assistance of any druids, to coax a moon lily vine to grow up and around Salindra's gravestone. "They were her favorite flower." He picked a remaining clump of dirt from between his fingers and sighed. "I'd always bring her a bouquet of them when I returned from my travels." He bent down and retrieved his gardening tools, knowing he'd have to return them to Gorwel, the man he'd borrowed them from, before he left Moonglade. Kissing dirty fingers - and not caring about the grit in the least bit - he pressed them to the gravestone and followed his daughter and Sevei back to where a pair of hippogryphs waited, pawing impatiently at the ground and tossing their antlered heads.

Sal patted the side of one as she walked between them. "Easy, we're heading back now. Can you handle another nonstop trip across the ocean, or would you like to rest first?"

A chorus of chirrups and beak clicks gave her her answer; she mounted and soothed the hippogryph as Donnovan climbed on behind her, Sevei's mount already launching itself into the air. Saliea smiled and allowed her mount to follow its companion, knowing the swift creatures would have them back in Darnassus within a few hours.

It was during their flight back home that Saliea delivered the news to Donnovan, and the poor elf was still sputtering happily when they finally landed at Rut'Theran and returned the hippogryphs to their flight master.

"I'm going to be a grandfather," Donnovan said dazedly, tossing an arm around both Saliea and Sevei, hanging between them like a drunkard. "Which do you hope for? Girl or boy?"

"Girl," Sevei said, just as Saliea said "Boy." The druid glared at her husband around Donnovan, and the rogue simply laughed.

"You'll love it just the same, no matter what gender it comes out," he chuckled.

Sal rolled her eyes, then promptly shut them as they walked through the portal doorway that would take them up into Darnassus - teleporting sometimes made her a tad queasy - and they all had to stop abruptly, lest they run over the small boy who was standing directly on the other side of the portal.

He was a small, scrawny night elf child, lean with skyblue hair hanging in a thick ponytail down his back and golden eyes in a narrow face. His nervousness was obvious to all, though what he was nervous about wasn't apparent; he simply swallowed hard, and then to the surprise of all dropped to his knees and pressed his hands to the ground before resting his forehead on his hands.

"_You...you're Saliea Silvermist," _he stuttered in Darnassian, his voice muffled.

"_Yes, that's me," _Sal said slowly. "_Who are you? And uh...stand up, if you please._

The boy stumbled up to his feet again and this time bowed formally.

"_My name is Darae. Lord Staghelm t-told me you were to be my teacher. You'll train me, r-right?"_

Sal stared blankly at the boy, mind trying to make sense of his words. "_Staghelm said what?"_

Sevei was looking curiously at his wife - he still wasn't all that fluent in Darnassian, despite having been married to a native speaker of it for a few years - and so hadn't caught all of the conversation, but had caught enough to know the boy was wanting something from her. Donnovan was rolling his eyes, a bemused, knowing look on his face, which only made the draenei more curious as to what exactly was going on.

The boy, Darae, scuffed his toe into the stones at his feet, staring at them. "_He said you were going to teach me. Was...am I wrong?"_

Sal shook her head, a half-sigh, half-growl slipping out of her. "_I'm sorry, I don't mean to...I mean. Okay. I'm sorry, I just returned from Moonglade, this is news to me. Come on, let's go speak with him together," _she said kindly. Darae gave her a shy smile and fell into step with him as they continued on their way, walking silently alongside Sevei - and occasionally sneaking wide-eyed stares up at the male, having never seen a draenei up close before.

Finally, Saliea gestured for Darae - and Donnovan and Sevei - to remain outside, as she stormed her way into Fandral's quarters.

"He's in for it now," Donnovan chuckled. "You would think all the years the man's seen would have hammered some common sense into that pointy head of his."

Sevei chuckled, glancing down in time to see Darae quickly glance away. He smiled kindly down at the boy, who timidly smiled back then cleared his throat.

"Did you really come here in a giant ship from the sky?"

Sevei nodded. "Some of my people arrived here like that, yes. I myself was born on Draenor, Outland as it is known to most people of this world."

"Is it really barren, and full of demons?"

_ "_Mostly. Some areas are still beautiful, like the sprawling fields of Nagrand and the towering forests of Terrokar."

"Nagrand and Terrokar_," _Darae whispered to himself, nodding.

Saliea walked out then, smiling - and Sevei knew his wife all too well to believe such an innocent grin - and bent down to Darae's level.

"_I'm sorry for earlier Darae, I didn't know Lord Staghelm had assigned a student to me. I will gladly guide you through the first parts of training for a fledgling druid."_

Darae clasped his hands together and bowed, his ponytail flopping down over a shoulder. "_Thank you, shan'do. I will do my best not to disappoint you."_

_ "Go ahead and wait for me by the Temple of the Moon," _she continued, patting him on a shoulder. "_I have a few other things to take care of, primarily the reason I went to Moonglade in the first place."_

_ "I obey, shan'do."_

Saliea watched the boy hurry off, her smile fading into a sour look. "One of these days I'm going to knock a few of Fandral's teeth out..." she growled.

"A clever idea," Sevei said quietly. "Give you a responsibility that requires you to remain here in Darnassus. He is relieved of the issue and you are kept within his sight."

Sal looked up at Sevei, shaking her head. "It's more complicated than that. Fandral could have assigned any beginner druid to me, but..." She flew a breath that ruffled the wisps of hair hanging around her face. "He believes Darae to be inclined toward the feral aspect of the druidic path, like me. That is fine. But...Darae's parents are missing," she muttered. "They disappeared at separate times, different places, but both are gone."

"What? Why would he..." Donnovan muttered, then slapped a hand to his forehead. "Surely even he wouldn't be that insensitive..."

Sevei looked from his wife, then behind them where Darae had disappeared. "He wishes to distract the boy from the fate of his parents?"

"The fate of his parents, like everyone else who has disappeared, is unknown," Saliea sighed. "But, yes, I believe he wants Darae to focus on something else besides his missing mother and father. He will never say it directly, but he might as well have." She rubbed her temples. "I have a headache..."

Sevei pulled her close and gently rubbed the back of her neck with one hand. "Perhaps he merely wished for the boy to have someone to look after him until his parents can be located."

"If that is the case, I just wish he had been honest with Darae," Sal said quietly. "And with us, for that matter."

"...do I hear Fandral cursing in there?" Donnovan asked suddenly, carefully peering around the doorway and into the room.

"I may have slugged him once," Sal said lightly. "Come on, we've a boy waiting on us."

Sevei choked back a chuckle and turned to follow Saliea, Donnovan carefully edging into the room that, he was positive, held a very, very irritated Fandral Staghelm.

* * *

The next few days passed quickly for Tal'Thera; she mostly remained in her workshop, carefully probing Spellcleaver and amassing an impressive list of enchantments that had once adorned the weapon. Mikael had only managed to stay one day in there with her, before quietly excusing himself and spending the rest of the afternoon in his room, not even coming out to eat supper with her.

She'd worried, but he didn't wish to speak to her about what had bothered him and she didn't feel like it was her place to press him for answers, so she'd merely returned to quietly studying the sword. As she was beginning to come back to things she already knew were there, she was beginning to think she'd finally completed the list of spells she would need to replicate - and good grief, was that list long!

There were enchantments to increase the potency of spells cast by the wielder, and a few that made the sword incredibly keen; there was one that allowed the sword to deflect or shatter magic sent at the wielder, and one that would partially shield the bearer of the weapon from cold. The blood elf wondered if Mikael was even aware of half the magic contained in this weapon...and, once again, she seriously wondered if she possessed the skill to put it all back.

She looked down at her pages of notes, closing her eyes and sighing deeply. Her work had only just begun, it would seem.

Automatically she reached for the end of her bench, where her gloves usually sat, then smiled at herself because of it. Her gloves hadn't left the top drawer of her dresser since Mikael had taken them off her a few days ago. Thinking of that moment sent a shiver of mild terror up her spine, mixed with...pleasant surprise? A touch of excitement? She'd never even thought to disobey an order from the Regent Lord, and while the thought of being reprimanded scared her...the idea of ignoring an order given to her was slightly intoxicating.

She shook her head, shivering as she shrugged her shoulders to relieve stiff muscles; she had dinner to fix, and...and she also wanted to see if Mikael was feeling like himself again. If she thought things had been awkward before, when he had just arrived, suddenly finding him quiet and unresponsive again felt almost alien to her.

Quietly tiptoeing from her workshop, she headed to her kitchen and wondered what she felt like preparing today.

* * *

"_Tell me about your travels," _she said suddenly.

Mikael looked up at her curiously; earlier she had inquired about his health and his state of mind, to which he had dodged the questions enough that finally she'd fallen silent. Apparently she'd decided the silence had gone on long enough.

He carefully sat down his fork, mostly finished with his chicken anyhow, and leaned back in his chair. "_What do you want to hear about?"_

_ "Anything. Everything. Whatever you wish to share," _she said, dropping her hands and her gaze into her lap. "_I...want to hear of the outside world. I grow tired of seeing only the same corner of Silvermoon."_

"_Uh, well..." _he started slowly, trying to decide where to begin.

He finally began to talk about Elwynn Forest, about the trees and the ponds, how he'd been born there and played in all the hidey-hole spots that children still frequented. From there he described Westfall, of how it had once been rolling fields full of wheat and pumpkins that bumped up against a river that bordered Duskwood, a dark and dreary place full of undead and spiders big enough to eat horses.

When he ran out of things he thought she'd find interesting about the places he'd grown up, he began to describe places he had traveled to while searching for his brother.

He told her of Everlook, the goblin town in the snowy area of Winterspring, comparing them to the wide open sands of Shimmering Flats and Tanaris. She laughed at the stories of giant lizards in the tar pits of Un'Goro, seemed enthralled by the idea of snow leopards in Dun Morogh, and appeared horrified at the description of corrupted trees and animals in Felwood.

When he finally had to pause to drink to ease a tired throat, she was leaning on the table with a dreamy look in her eyes.

"_I always knew the world was large, but just hearing about it...it's amazing."_

_ "It's even bigger when you've walked across a great deal of it," _Mikael said dryly, smiling as she giggled.

"_I wish I could see these places with my own eyes," _she sighed. Absently she played with her fork, twirling it between her fingers. "_My place is here, though. Those places will always only remain dreams and stories to me."_

Mikael took another sip of wine from his goblet, shaking his head. He knew better than to tell her to go travel if she really desired to see more than just the inside of her home and the part of the Bazaar outside her balcony; part of him wanted to drag her bodily from her comfort zone and rub her nose in the outside world, but if she didn't kill him over it the guards watching her certainly would.

The rest of their dinner was completed in near-silence, Tal'Thera rolling images of Mikael's travels over and over in her mind, and Mikael trying not to dwell over _why _he had traveled to those areas in the first place. Mikael headed toward his room when the dishes had been cleared away, as usual, and instead of curling up in her chair with a book - as she did every evening - she instead followed him, pausing at the doorway to his room.

"_Warlock...are you certain you are okay?"_

He smiled at her, the smile not quote reaching her eyes. "_I'm fine, I promise."_

_ "Very well," _she sighed. Oh well, at least she had tried.

She looked back to the sitting room, and for once decided against reading anything; stepping into her own room and quietly shutting the door, she allowed herself to imagine snowy slopes and rolling plains, and wished she could see them for herself.

The lands held by the blood elves were pretty, granted, but it was commonplace to her, something she'd seen all her life. The gold and green of the trees, turned scarlet in fall, were almost reflected in the elves' choice of clothing and architecture - they liked the elaborate, the soaring and towering, gold and glimmer and shine. The description of worked stone - worked by hand, not by magic - and naturally-grown trees piqued her curiosity like nothing else ever had. Untouched fields full of wild flowers, mountains topped with forests and glaciers, oceans and rivers not shaped by mortals...

Sighing, she waved a hand and conjured a bouquet of roses, inhaling as their fragrance filled her bedroom. They were lovely but, as was most everything in blood elf society, they were magicked into existence, and Tal'Thera found herself wondering if naturally grown roses smelled anywhere near as nice as these did.

With a snort she let the flowers drop to the floor, ignoring the spray of petals, and began to undress for bed seriously doubting she'd get any rest tonight.

* * *

Mikael sat on the edge of her bed, frowning at the other person in the room.

"It's nothing Elervina. I just...I was thinking of my mother when I was watching Tal'Thera with Spellcleaver."

The succubus was lounging across his pillows, for once actually looking concerned instead of trying her damnedest to appear appealing.

"If it bothers you, refuse to let her restore it. You have the blade, the magic is not so important is it?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I want to see it back to what it was, I have no idea why it hit me so hard that it's no longer my mother's sword...it'll be as much Tal'Thera's sword now as it was mom's."

Elervina sighed. "You will either have to take the sword back and leave it as is, or accept that the female will have had a part in Spellcleaver's second birth. You can't have it both ways, after all."

"I know I know," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It'll just...it'll just take some getting used to, is all." He stood and grasped the bottom hem of his shirt. "Go on, you're dismissed. I'm going to bed...I shouldn't have summoned you in the first place."

"I could keep you company," the demon purred, stroking the blankets beneath her...then pouted when he sent her a withering look. "Fine..."

As she faded from view Mikael tugged his shirt off, bonking himself in the nose with the necklace around his neck. Grumbling mentally, he pulled it off and watched as his body reverted back to normal - he still couldn't tell if it was some sort of minor polymorph spell or an illusion - then tossed the necklace toward the table beside the bed where the translating shield pin lay, then reached for the clasp of his belt as he moved for his nightshirt and the cloth pants he slept in.

...then paused, turning slowly to look back at the bedside table, wondering if he had missed it because he had heard no thud or click, no noise to indicate the necklace had made it where he had tossed it.

The necklace twinkled up at him, sitting in a heap nearly on top of the little shield pin.

He walked over and lifted it thinking it might have bounced off his pillow to the table, and the chain of the necklace caught the pin and knocked it to the floor.

Again, there wasn't a sound, not even a clatter, as the metal pin hit the wooden floor.

'What in the...what was that?' he thought to himself. Right then, through the soles of his bare feet, he felt the floor shake...but again heard nothing, and then the smell hit him.

It was a cross between fermenting fruit and a rotting carcass, disgusting yet sickly sweet. He gagged and clapped a hand over his mouth, looking toward his door.

'Tal'Thera...'

He bolted for the door and ripped it open - no sound as the door hit the wall - and yanked the door to Tal'Thera's room open. He could see her - the blood elf was scrambling on all fours across the floor, crying as she struggled to get away from the strangest creature he'd ever seen standing behind her and to the side of her overturned bed.

It was humanoid in shape, covered in scales the color of muddy water with a thick tail that thrashed the floor behind it. When it turned, its mouth open in a soundless hiss, Mikael could see its head was very much like that of a snake - rounded, with yellow eyes with slit pupils and a wide mouth with thin, needle-like fangs the length of Mikael's hand bared. Its hands were clawed, as were its feet, and now he could see a crest of spines ran from the base of the thing's neck down to the tip of its tail.

He lunged forward and seized a handful of Tal'Thera's nightdress at the shoulder and hauled her toward him even as the creature pounced; he again felt instead of heard the impact as the thing hit the floor just behind Tal'Thera's bare feet, and he swung the elf around behind him even as he kicked out in an attempt to drive the creature back.

Tal'Thera's nails dug into his bare shoulders as she clung to him while he quickly went through the hand movements and spoke the incantation for a spell...and nothing happened. He couldn't hear himself speak, and the spell did not fire – he must have somehow gotten his intonation wrong, being unable to hear himself.

'Not good...' he thought, kicking the door shut and dragging Tal'Thera with him as he retreated to the sitting room for a few precious seconds to think.

'Can't cast, can't hear, no weapon...think think...'

The door to her room shattered and the snake-beast leapt out, clinging to the wall and silently snarling at them. Mikael again shoved Tal'Thera behind him, then darted forward to meet the thing's charge, both falling to the floor in a tangle.

The thing was strong! Now beginning to regret trying to grapple with it, Mikael's mind was trying to think of something to do enough damage to deter it while trying to keep the beast from throttling him. He finally locked hands with it and while he couldn't force it off him, he braced his elbows against the floor which was enough to keep those clawed hands from strangling him...but, he quickly realized, that brought other problems into the equation.

Those fangs were now snapping for his face; Mikael jerked back and forth, keeping his face and neck off to the side as the creature bit at him. Finally he yanked the thing sideways and threw an arm up in front of his neck, screaming soundlessly as the beast bit him and hung on. He needed a plan and needed one _now. _He had a few spells that required little effort to cast so he tried them, a few slow-acting spells that would do a good deal of damage after a few seconds to sink in. They simply seemed to reflect off the scales and dissipate, wholly ineffective.

'...now what...'

His mind suddenly pulled another spell from somewhere, one that didn't require a voiced incantation either and was also a fast-acting spell of destruction, and he quickly performed the finger movements needed. A blast of black energy burst from the hand attached to the arm the beast held in its mouth, Mikael directing the magic at the thing's head; the spell ruptured an eye and the creature released him, falling back and clawing at its own face. Mikael rolled over to try and get some distance between him and it, but it angrily picked him up before he could get his feet under him and slammed him, face first, into the wall twice.

Mikael hit the floor, dazed, then roared again as he felt the white-hot agony explode across his back as the thing ripped claws across his left shoulderblade. He kicked out blindly behind him, entire body shaking from the pain, felt his foot connect and felt the thud as the creature hit the floor. Spinning around, he had enough time to pull his knees into his chest to fend off another rush by the creature, his left arm laying all but useless next to him, bleeding from both the bite in his forearm and now the gashes on his back.

As he struggled to shove the thing away again, it sank claws into his already injured arm and tried to tug him to the side. He felt the soft 'plap' as his bleeding back bounced up and down on the floor, but he got his other hand up and released several more bursts of darkness into the chest and head. Scale and blood rained down on him, and now finally the creature was trying to get away from _him._

It backed rapidly down the hallway for the bedrooms, hugging arms around its shattered chest and bleeding liberally from a destroyed eyesocket and what looked to be a broken jaw. Mikael struggled up into a sitting position and took aim, then found himself diving back to the floor as a rain of arrows came from behind him.

The vibrations from several pairs of feet came to him through the floor, and then with a rush, sound came back as the creature crumpled to the floor. Four blood elf rangers, bows at the ready, rushed passed him and surrounded the obviously dead thing; Mikael felt hands sliding roughly under his armpits and he groaned as he felt fingers rake across the claw marks. They ignored his utterance of pain and dragged him back into the sitting room and laying him flat again.

He looked up into grim faces of blood elves, and suddenly became aware that he wasn't wearing that necklace. What little talking was being done he couldn't understand, being without his translating pin as well, remembering that both were still in his room by the bed.

And where was Tal'Thera? There seemed to be a great deal of blood elves around, but he had yet to see the mage. Was she okay? He didn't notice any injuries when he'd pulled her from her room, and sincerely hoped she was all right; the idea that, now that he had been outed as a human, he might be soon executed didn't even occur to him as he scanned the crowd for the red-haired elf.

His gaze finally fell on the Ranger General, and beside him was Tal'Thera, being supported between a male and a female ranger. Halduron caught Mikael's eye and shook his head, signaling for the human to remain quiet.

Fine by him, as Mikael didn't feel like talking anyhow. In fact...he felt rather dizzy, very lightheaded, and the room began to spin around him. He vaguely would remember Halduron suddenly looking alarmed as his eyes rolled up in his head and unconsciousness swallowed him.

* * *

When he awoke he was laying in his bed in Tal'Thera's home, surrounded by several grim faced rangers and the Ranger General himself. His arm and his back burned, and his head still felt fuzzy and throbbed in time with his heartbeat; he squinted up at the elves, wondering if they were standing guard over him because he was injured, or because they thought he was the one behind the attack.

Halduron leaned over him and began to speak, and Mikael - very slowly - shook his head, unable to understand him. The elf growled and for a moment Mikael thought he was going to strike him.

"_Can you understand me now?" _Halduron finally grunted in Orcish.

"_Vaguely," _Mikael said, wanting to raise a hand to his head and finding his arms felt like they were made of lead. "_Where's Tal'Thera? Is she okay?"_

_ "She's fine, and under guard. I want you to tell me what happened, and be truthful."_

_ "Of course. Why would I lie?" _Mikael went to shift and found his injured arm was in a sling across his chest; apparently the blood elves hadn't felt like expending any magical effort to tending to him. He decided he was better off just laying still and took a deep breath, closing his eyes as a fresh wave of pain came over him. "_I was...I was getting ready to go to bed, took off my shirt and the..._thing _that disguises me and allows me to speak your tongue," _he said, stopping short before he revealed what the necklace and the pin really did. "_And when I sat them all down, I noticed that nothing made any noise. Not even when I accidentally knocked something to the floor. I also felt a large thud, like something hitting the floor hard, but again didn't hear it...and then I smelled it."_

_ "Smelled it?"_

Mikael grimaced slightly, wondering what in the world had told them laying him on his injured back was a GOOD idea. "_Yeah. It smelled like something dying...something felt wrong, obviously. I went to check on Tal'Thera, and when I opened her door I found her trying to escape...whatever that thing is - was," _he corrected himself. "_I pulled her to safety and did what I could to stop the thing from harming her...evidenced enough by the holes it put in me," _he added dryly, gently twitching his injured arm where it lay on his chest. "_I didn't have a weapon and all but one of the spells I threw were ineffective." _He closed his eyes. "_Could you either have me healed or get me some strong liquor? Anything to take the edge off my headache?"_

Halduron pinched his lips together, but gestured at someone behind him, out of Mikael's sight. Immediately a blood elf clad in the robes of a priest stepped forward, bowing formally to the Ranger General.

"_Heal him, I am through with questioning him. He at least earned it by defending one of our own with his life." _With that, Halduron disappeared, leaving Mikael alone with the priest and the guards standing around him.

The priest nodded and turned his full attention to Mikael; Mikael sat silently and tried not to sigh in relief as he felt the first stirrings of healing energy seeping through his battered body.

"_I suggest remaining in bed still," _the priest said finally, after several long minutes of casting. "_You sustained a head injury...in fact, you dented the wall where you impacted."_

Mikael lifted his arm to allow the man to remove the bloodied bandages, eying his healed flesh underneath; his arm bore no scars, at least, so he assumed his back was healed just as well. His head still throbbed though, but he supposed that was to be expected after having left a dent in the wall, even with healing magic applied.

"_I will see to it that you are brought water and something easy on your stomach," _the priest went on, wadding up the spent cloth. "_You should rest until you feel you can walk without staggering."_

_ "What do you mean?"_

The blood elf smirked. "_Try sitting up."_

Mikael did try, and immediately had to lay back down as the world tilted dangerously to one side. "_Oh...whoa...that wasn't...good."_

_ "As I said. Remain in bed until you feel you can walk properly."_

_ "No time for that."_

Both Mikael and the priest looked up to see Halduron striding back into the room; he motioned at two guards and they seized Mikael under the arms and hauled him up from the bed. The warlock had to rapidly clap a hand over his mouth as his stomach turned in unison with the world around him, but the blood elves paid no attention to his discomfort and dragged him from the room, following Halduron out into the sitting room and toward the stairs he knew led down to Tal'Thera's shop.

"_H-hold it," _Mikael choked out from behind his hands. "_Where are we going?"_

Halduron paused, turning to look at him. "_Human. Right. Where is your disguise?"_

Mikael didn't see a way to keep his magical items secret - and he was having a hard time thinking straight with his center of gravity constantly changing. "_It's the necklace...sitting on floor somewhere near the bed. Knocked it off the table."_

_ "Get it," _Halduron ordered, and one of the guards supporting Mikael let go of him and hurried out of sight. Mikael awkwardly clung to his remaining guard, closing his eyes in an effort to will away some of the dizziness.

He eventually felt something slip over his head and cracked open an eye to see the familiar marble laying on against his skin, the other guard grabbing his arm again and both half-dragging, half-supporting Mikael as he stumbled down the stairs and out of the shop into the night air of the empty Bazaar. They pulled him through the streets, Mikael unable to keep track of where they were going, and finally they came to what appeared to be a prison area; it wasn't as elaborate as the rest of the blood elf city, appearing to be a block of stone compared to the other dwellings around it. When he was shoved through the door he saw it was a wide open warehouse-like building, with rows of barred cells lining the walls and a few stand-alone cages in the middle of the room. Some were actually filled too, mostly with blood elves but he could see a few trolls here and there, all total there was maybe fifteen beings in the cells.

Mikael almost wanted to struggle now - he'd done nothing wrong! - but instead of tossing him into a cell they tugged him to the very back corner, to what appeared to be a darkened, reinforced cell, and shoved him up against the bars.

"_Can you explain this, warlock?" _Halduron asked tersely.

Mikael peered in, and almost lost his stomach's contents once more, and not because of his head this time.

He knew this had to be the creature that attacked Tal'Thera and him, as scattered around it were blood smears and cracked scale. But that was the end of the resemblance to the beast; the body lay in a pile of blackened sludge and shattered bone, and it was what was laying in the center of the sickening mess that made him want to vomit.

White robes clung, sodden, to a rotting body that had _been_ rotting when he met her. Her leather-strapped face stared blankly up at the ceiling above, the female laying on her back. Mikael choked down bile, abruptly turning from the sight and finding Halduron staring hard at him.

"_Well?"_

"_Oh Light...that's Sarah," _he whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

The guards with her were familiar faces, at least. Logane and Meriwend were distant acquaintances - that is, she'd seen them, been introduced to them, and knew they were two of the almost constant rotation of rangers and guards that were keeping tabs on her daily existence.

Having them sitting in the room with her and the currently unconscious warlock, however, was a bit unnerving, as neither spoke and only watched.

Tal'Thera tried to detach herself from the situation, but being terrified out of her wits was something hard to ignore. She'd truly thought she was going to die when the..._thing..._had materialized out of the darkness of her room and leapt for her; in retrospect, having skipped her evening reading likely saved her from that first pounce, as she had found she couldn't rest her mind enough to allow her to sleep, and being awake was what allowed her to scamper away.

They had been taken to the quarters of the Regent Lord himself, stuck in a guest bedroom and seemingly forgotten - though Tal'Thera knew that now, more than ever, they were watching - and Mikael lay in the bed on his side, facing her and covered up to his chin in a thin blanket.

The blanket was her doing, as was his current position; her hands curled into fists as a burst of anger made it through the terror - those who had brought the human here had merely tossed him into the bed, not appearing to be worried for his welfare at all. It had been Tal'Thera who arranged him on his side, remembering the rip in his shoulder. She couldn't be certain of how much healing he had received, even if the bandages seemed to be gone, so she had carefully rolled him from his back and onto his side, and had covered him. That they would treat her savior in such a way sickened her stomach, and once again she found herself full of a festering anger at her own people.

'No...no, don't think that. They are worried, for you of all people,' she told herself, swallowing down the anger - and almost regretting it, for without the anger to focus on her fear came back.

What was that creature that had attacked her? How had it gotten into her home, into her room, and why had it attacked her? Again she looked down at Mikael, and found herself smiling; what might have happened had he not rushed to her rescue was something she didn't want to think about.

She reached out and brushed hair away from where it had slid over his mouth, smoothing it back over his shoulder; he looked as though he wasn't in pain, at least. She had managed to wrangle from Logane that the warlock had taken a few blows to the head, affecting him in 'adverse ways' and she really need not concern herself with him; she was full of questions about what had happened, for as soon as he had shoved her away and leapt for the creature himself, she'd had the presence of mind to race to her balcony and signal to the rangers that she couldn't see but nevertheless knew were always hidden around her home.

Her hand lingered near his face as she noticed the chain of the necklace just under the mess of hair at his neck; carefully she slipped her fingers beneath it and probed at it.

'Ah, so this is what gives him his blood elf appearance,' she thought, smiling as she felt the distinct presence of that orc mage Meraka in the object. That such simple enchants could combine into the sophisticated illusion the human wore amused her; perhaps her people could take a lesson or two - or twelve - from Meraka in terms of simplicity. "_I suppose not all works of magic need be over-the-top impressive_," Tal'Thera chuckled, causing Logane and Meriwend to jump at the noise.

The blood elf let the chain down gently and went to move away...then noted something. At first she thought her stress and her weariness were making her see things, but no...there was a faint glow coming from just beneath Mikael's hair at the nape of his neck, reflecting against the black of his hair.

Gingerly, Tal'Thera brushed the hair away and blinked in surprise at the glowing runes she found there; they ran up and disappeared into his hairline, and ran down the back of his neck going out of sight under the blanket pulled around him. Now she lifted the blanket and leaned over him, staring down his bare back and seeing that they continued down his spine, widening as it ran further down, a stripe of glowing markings three inches wide. She lifted the blanket further, following it with her eyes until the shining strip disappeared into his pants - what in the world was this?

Looking up she saw Logane and Meriwend trying to appear as though they weren't taking any notice, but the tightness of Logane's lips and the lines around Meriwend's eyes told her otherwise: both rather disapproved of her examination of the unconscious human.

Tal'Thera turned her attention back to the glowing runes, wondering what they were. Gazing first at them, and then at her bare hand, she wondered...but no, that would likely wake up Mikael, and she didn't want to explain what she was doing - it was embarrassing enough as is, that she had even looked at him with the guards present in the room. She leaned back, chewing on her lip, partially glad he hadn't woke up while she had been all but dangling her breasts in his face...and, having thought that, she blushed as red as her hair. No, further examination of the curious runes would likely wake up the warlock, and she had no business poking at them...

Curiosity gnawed at her though, dispelling her anxiety and fear for the moment; for once she found herself cursing mentally - her mother was right when she said Tal'Thera had an insatiable craving for knowledge.

Carefully, enough so that at first she wasn't certain whether she was actually touching him, Tal'Thera pressed two fingers to the markings at the back of his neck.

A magic that felt alien to her, yet oddly comforting, came to her mind; she thought briefly of a being made up of swirling shards, akin to the pattern that marked the human's skin, but the image was quickly swept away when a feeling of wrongness rose to the surface.

This spell was meant to do something, obviously...but what that was, and whether it was accomplishing what it was meant to do, was suspect. Tal'Thera probed a bit deeper, wondering what sort of magic this was, and why it adorned Mikael's back - it certainly wasn't dark magic, something you would find in and on a warlock.

With a agonizing shock, a spark of pain ran the length of her body starting at the base of her neck and running down her spine to her tailbone; the pain was accompanied by a scream, and with a start she pulled her hands from the markings, panting.

She jumped when she felt a hand touch her shoulder; spinning, she saw it was only Logane, a passable look of concern on his face.

"_Are you well?"_

_ "Well e-enough," _Tal'Thera stammered, feeling her head beginning to throb. "_An old memory, it frightened me, that's all."_

Logane nodded, not looking convinced, but withdrew anyway to his post at the door.

Tal'Thera rubbed at her hands, still feeling ghost-like sensations of pain across her back, and once again wondered what the markings were, what they were for...and wondered if the pain Mikael had gone through to get them equaled the worth of the things.

* * *

Saliea held his face firmly but gently, tilting him this way and that, looking at him.

"S-shan'do, what IS feral?" Darae asked timidly. "I have heard druids speaking of it before, but I don't know what that is."

She looked back down at him, smiling. "Druids can call upon the magic of nature, the powers of the world, but like everything some people are more talented than others in certain areas. Lord Staghelm is an accomplished caster - you very likely won't ever see him shift forms, because frankly he's not all that talented at it. Some druids show exceptional talent at healing, and others, like me, are more suited for direct combat. It depends on what you are more attuned with. The spirits of the forest, both hostile and gentle, run through me and through them I can change forms and seek to defend the natural balance of nature. Fandral relies on drawing upon the raw power of nature and directing it. Healers pull on nature's more gentle side, and use the vitality of the world to help in soothing injuries. Feral is simply an easy way to communicate that you're more suited to the forms of wild beasts."

"So I'm going to be a fighter?"

"You could be," Sal said slowly. She carefully tapped her finger on his forehead. "Not everyone will find that path to be the correct one for them. With diligent study and work, even a feral druid can excel at the healing arts." She paused a moment, then grinned sheepishly. "Well, that worked for others, not so much for me, but I have seen feral druids heal just as well as a druid who was taught the healing arts from the beginning of their training."

Darae looked at the ground, thinking. "So...I can be anything I want?"

"If you work hard enough, yes."

He watched a beetle crawl over the toe of his boot then disappear into the grass. Did he want to take the path of a mighty warrior for nature? He'd never even been in a scuffle with boys his own age...maybe fighting would be fun? Exciting? Healing was boring, he didn't want to do that...though maybe being a spellcaster, like Lord Staghelm, wouldn't be so bad. He pictured calling tornadoes and lightning, directing them in the name of the balance of nature, and smiled a little.

"When do I chose?"

Sal chuckled. "Not for a while yet. I'm only here to take you through the beginning of your training. When you think you know what you wish to study further another teacher will be assigned to you."

"But you're my shan'do!"

"Where did this shan'do thing come from anyhow?" she said, grinning as she knelt to look him in the face. "You don't need to call me that."

"But I want to."

"Then you may, but understand that you will have many instructors as you grow and so you may wish to bestow the title of shan'do on another. I won't take offense if you find you like someone more," Sal laughed. She stood, dusting off her hands. "We won't do anything today, as I'm rather tired from flying to and from Moonglade in a single day. Tomorrow, I want you to meet me just outside the gates of Darnassus at dawn - we will begin then."

Darae bowed and turned to leave, but Sal suddenly lunged out and grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

"Darae...who are you staying with?"

His gaze dropped to the ground again. "Um. No one. I'm by myself. My parents..."

He turned to hurry away again and nearly ran face first into Sevei; for such a large man, the draenei certainly moved silently.

"You are alone? No relatives?" the shaman asked, brow furrowing.

Darae remained quiet and shook his head slowly, tensing when he felt Saliea's hands on his shoulders.

"On second thought, you come with me," she said. "You shouldn't be alone, not right now."

"I'm fine though," Darae insisted, craning his neck to look up at her. "I lock the door behind me and everything."

"You're staying with us until your parents are found, or relatives can be located," Sal said firmly.

"Do you know where any relatives of yours may be, Darae?" Sevei asked.

He shook his head. "No. Mum's side of the family I've never seen, and Da's I have no idea where they are. Da once said they come visit every decade or so, last they were here I was really little, I don't remember them at all."

Sevei frowned. "Surely there are records somewhere, but until we find someone for you to stay with you remain with us."

"But-"

"No buts," Sal and Sevei said in unison.

"While you two are training tomorrow," Sevei said, as they began to walk from the Temple to their home (pulling a protesting Darae with them), "I will be seeing what I can do about locating someone for Darae."

"I'll be fine, really!"

Sal sighed and rested her hand on top of his head. "Darae, I am going to be perfectly honest with you."

He stopped protesting and looked up at her warily.

"Your parents disappeared, your mother from your own home yes?"

"Y-yes."

"Whatever might have taken them, may very well come back for you."

Darae froze, Sevei bumping into him from behind as the boy suddenly stopped; he hadn't thought of that, not at all. He felt hot tears well up in his eyes, and looked up at them.

"W-will...will we find them? My parents?"

Sevei rested a hand on his shoulder. "You have my word that we will. Saliea and myself have already been seeking clues to the whereabouts of the missing persons - they will be found soon, I have no doubt. But, until they _are,_" Sevei said, squeezing the boy's shoulder gently, "until they are, you will remain with us."

"Okay..."

He dashed tears from his eyes and began following his shan'do once more, Sevei keeping his hand on his shoulder; the draenei's words were comforting, and while sleeping beneath the roof of his shan'do sent a shiver of anxiety through him, it was nice knowing someone actually cared...his empty home was frightening at night, and Darae was tired of almost calling out for his mother, or expecting his father to come walking through the door, only to remember that they were gone with a suddenness that hurt his stomach and made him cry. His only worry now was muffling his sobs enough so that his shan'do and the draenei wouldn't hear him at night.

His shan'do's home was small, obviously meant only for her and her husband. When they went inside the two adults immediately went about rearranging the living room, chatting and laughing between them as they pushed two armchairs into the corner and moved a low, backless couch underneath the window, opening up a much wider area in the room.

"We'll get you a cot tomorrow, so you don't have to remain on the couch for your stay here," Saliea said, sitting down on the couch herself.

"I don't mind the couch...I don't need to stay here if it's a problem," Darae said quietly. He'd stayed in the doorway, standing awkwardly as he watched them move things, partly wanting to help but mostly wanting to stay out of the way or disappear into the floor.

"I wouldn't insist on you staying if it was going to cause a problem," came the reply. "And besides...I'll be able to give you more instruction, and you won't be alone while they search for your parents."

Sevei settled into a chair, angling it so it faced to the center of the room. "Anyone besides me a bit hungry?"

Darae nodded before he could stop himself, then shyly stared at his feet again.

Sal shook her head and stood, stopping to stand before him. "You don't need to hover in the doorway, you can sit down you know." She rested her hands on his shoulders, gently giving him a shake. "I know this is overwhelming for you, but I want you to know I promise to look after you. We'll find your family, don't worry."

"Why do you care so much? I'm not your kid," he said sullenly.

She poked a fingertip into his nose. "Blood does not dictate affection," the druid said firmly. "You are now my student, and my responsibility."

She smiled when Darae finally smiled timidly, then stood; he watched her head into the kitchen area, and he carefully settled onto the vacated couch, shooting a glance over at the shaman and squirming when he realized the draenei was looking at him.

"...what?"

Sevei seemed to blink slowly, then look at Darae in a new light. "I'm sorry...did you say something?"

"You were looking at me."

The shaman chuckled. "My pardon. I wasn't actually looking _at _you, just that direction. I was actually listening to the wind a moment."

Darae leaned forward on the couch, eyes widening. "You can talk to the wind?"

"In a sense, yes. I can speak with a lot of the natural world around us." He shifted in his chair, eying the boy. "Perhaps it is something I could teach you, someday."

"Is it hard? Talking to the wind I mean?"

"Not if you know how to listen."

Darae nodded to himself, returning his gaze to the floor. A moment later he saw the draenei's eyes glaze over, and he imagined he must be talking to the wind again.

'I wonder what the wind sounds like?' he thought to himself, swinging his feet idly. He could hear his shan'do in the kitchen, and wondered if her cooking was as good as his mother's...and immediately regretted thinking of her, as it brought a fresh pang of pain to his stomach. The urge to curl up on the couch was nearly overwhelming, and he sniffled desperately to keep himself from crying again. He wouldn't cry, not here in the home of his shan'do, not unless he knew no one could hear him.

* * *

_He hears us, he just does not possess a name for us._

'How can that be, though?' Sevei asked, closing his eyes to better hear the wind spirit whom had grabbed his attention. 'He is a night elf, none of his race has any experience with the shamanistic path.'

_Because they hear with different ears. They speak directly with the natural forces of the world, not to those of us who are its custodians. Just because they do not know the words does not mean they cannot sing the song._

Sevei chuckled along with the wind. 'The idea of a night elf connecting with the elemental forces of the world is...an odd one.'

_No more odd than of your race beginning to hear our whispers._

'Will the boy be druid then, or shall he be shaman?'

_Is there harm in being both?_

'CAN he be both?'

_Who are we to define his path? If he wishes to listen, we shall speak. When he wishes to learn, we will teach. It shall be the same as we offered to your people._

Sevei nodded to himself as he felt the spirit fade, pull away. He had been surprised to hear that the wind knew of the boy; it had whispered many times of seeing him playing in the woods, and while it had not spoken to Darae directly, it sensed that he could possibly hear it if only he knew the proper way to listen.

Smiling to himself, Sevei recalled learning how to 'listen' to the spirits; it required an entirely different mindset from anything he had ever learned, and now he was curious if he could possibly guide Darae into discovering those voices for himself. It was highly possible Darae would never hear the elements murmuring in his ears - many draenei the elementals had singled out could not hear them, even though the spirits were quite certain the candidates would make proper shaman. They went on to pursue other destinies, leaving disappointed elements behind them, unaware of the other world that lay beneath their own and unable to access the knowledge of their ancestors in the guise of a shaman.

It was this he had been listening to when Darae had wondered why the shaman had been looking at him - which he hadn't, he'd just been staring blankly in that general direction. Now the boy sat quietly in the room, trying to stare a hole through the floor; Sevei could hear Saliea preparing dinner, and was about to get up to help her when he felt the presence of the wind come back.

_He is listening, but his grief deafens him._

With that whisper in his head the wind was gone as quickly as it had returned, and Sevei was left to wonder if he could guide Darae into the proper frame of mind it would take to try and hear the elements - then wondered if he should interfere with the boy's druidic training. .

But even still, a night elf that the spirits said possessed the ability to walk the path of a shaman...

The idea intrigued him, to say the least. He would certainly be keeping a close eye on the boy.

_As will we all._

Sevei hadn't even noticed the wind's attention that time, and smiled as he felt the presence recede once more. Darae would no doubt have an interesting future if the spirits were watching.

He jumped when he heard Saliea playfully grumping at him to come in and help. Chuckling and nodding to Darae - who nodded back with a small smile on his face - the draenei shoved himself out of his chair and trotted into the kitchen.

"My dear," he said quietly as he approached her, "did you know...?"

* * *

They were kept in the home of the Regent Lord for four days, and by that time both Mikael and Tal'Thera were beginning to go a little stir-crazy.

Tal'Thera was quickly tiring of the constant presence of guards around her, and Mikael was getting rather weary of all the questions they continued to ask him.

"_I've told you already," _he sighed for what had to be the hundredth time. "_Sarah was a Forsaken I met on the zeppelin here. She merely sat by me, we spoke to one another a little bit out of boredom. We parted ways at Undercity when I went with Lorena." _He ran a hand through his hair and yawned. "_I've been under close watch here, so no, there is no possible way I am behind her disappearance and reappearance here in Silvermoon."_

Lor'Themar paced restlessly, eying Mikael where the human sat up in the bed they'd left him in. He'd outright refused Tal'Thera's request for a priest to further heal the warlock, and heal him _fully_ and so Mikael was still suffering from brief bouts of weakness and occasionally was still dizzy.

Luckily Mikael hadn't felt weak or dizzy all day, so he suspected he was mostly recovered from his face-first introduction to Tal'Thera's wall. Still, he was rather tired of being asked the same questions and treated with such suspicion; he had always suspected he was being watched like a hawk, and so he couldn't quite fathom how the blood elves could think he was behind the attack on Tal'Thera. Seriously, if Mikael had in fact wanted the mage dead he could have done so several times by now, without needing some elaborate attack plan with a Forsaken polymorphed into a strange beast (and without the need to rip his own shoulder open).

He was thankful he had a shirt on again at least...the last thing he wanted to do was explain the markings on his back, even though he knew they had to have been seen when they bandaged him. That they hadn't asked confused him, and it was just as well that they hadn't, he supposed. That wasn't a part of his history - or his present - that he was willing to readily explain to anyone.

"_I don't understand this attack, at all," _Lor'Themar finally growled. "_I find it too convenient that the moment we allow a human into our city, one of our most valued members is attacked."_

_ "You know what? You're right," _Mikael said irritably. "_I'm the one to blame. This was all an elaborate plan concocted between the Alliance and Thrall to first kill your pet mage, then move on to a wider sweep and eventually wipe out your kind. We've decided we don't like your clothes or hair." _Mikael held out his hands, wrists toward the blood elf. "_Your superior intellect was too much for me, I've been found out. I expect to be executed immediately - make sure it's tomorrow at dawn, I was always a morning person."_

The Regent Lord was obviously trembling in rage, and it took a few long moments for the elf to compose himself. "_I...do not appreciate being mocked."_

_ "And I don't appreciate being accused of a crime I did not commit."_

He matched glares with the blood elf, and felt a bit of satisfaction when it was Lor'Themar who blinked and looked away first. The blood elf returned to his pacing while Mikael let his hands drop back into his lap; if he didn't think the guards would overreact, he would get out of bed and stretch a little. He'd been confined to this little guest room for a few days now, Tal'Thera having been taken elsewhere, and frankly he was getting tired of staring at the same bed, same tiny dresser, without even a desk or another chair to avoid constantly sitting on the bed. That Lor'Themar even had room to pace was a miracle, not to mention having room to have five guards with him.

"_You are to be moved this evening," _Lor'Themar said finally.

_"Moved?"_

_ "Yes. We have repaired the damage to Tal'Thera's home, and she is quite eager to return to her own dwelling. We have placed strong wards and further guards in the area, and shall easily thwart any further attempts to harm or otherwise harass Tal'Thera." _He fixed Mikael with a glare. "_We shall immediately know if anyone tries to get into the home, or out of it."_

_ "Look, if I truly wanted her dead I could have done so several times already," _Mikael said wearily. "_What is it going to take to prove to you that I mean no one any harm?"_

_ "I will believe it when I see you leave my city with no blood on your hands, never to return," _the Regent Lord said stiffly. "_Be ready, you leave soon."_

_ "Because I'm obviously so busy," _he said to Lor'Themar's retreating back.

Sure enough, a few hours later saw Mikael and Tal'Thera back in her home above her little shop, with the addition of Logane and Meriwend to the place.

"_We will take our leave in the morning," _Logane said by way of explanation when Tal'Thera had asked the two guards where they intended on sleeping.

She'd merely shrugged at the answer and shut herself away in her workshop, leaving Mikael with the two relatively unfriendly guards whom seemed to like following him around the small apartment, always staying just within line of sight of him. He was getting a tad annoyed by the constant watching when night fell and he retreated to his room and shut the door, changing into his sleeping clothes and climbing into bed.

Almost upon immediately shutting his eyes, he was back in Stranglethorn, somehow high up in a tree, seated on a branch. He inhaled sharply and looked around, then flinched away as someone dropped down from higher up, and landed nimbly on the branch in front of him.

Jin'Loki grinned at him, brushing a leaf off her shoulder.

"You're pretty hard to find when you move around a lot, ya know?"

Mikael stared at her. "This is a dream, it has to be..."

"It is," the troll said dismissively. "Now, let's see about those markings, eh?"

A wind whistled violently through the leaves suddenly, and he was convinced that had he not been as close to the trunk as he was, he would have been blown completely off it; Jin'Loki appeared completely unaffected, but she frowned heavily even as Mikael dug his fingers into the bark of the tree behind him.

"Who could possibly be interfering, here?"

Again the wind gusted, and she cowered as it nearly knocked her from the branch this time. "What are you doing, warlock?"

The wind trailed off completely after a moment, and Jin'Loki sauntered up to Mikael to pinch his cheek. "It will take more than a breeze to be rid of me. Now...shall we play a little game?"

"Play with this," Mikael snapped, swinging his entire lower body. If he hadn't been clinging to the tree he would have been worried about overbalancing himself and toppling off to the side, but with such a secure hold he put all the force he could muster behind the swing of his foot. He slammed it into Jin'Loki's ankles, knocking the troll from her feet, then slamming his other foot into her chest as she fell; with a shriek the troll hit the branch and rolled, rolling over the edge of the tree branch and disappearing from view.

A strong wind rattled the bark above his head, and for a moment he swore he heard high, tinkling laughter -

In the amount of time it took to blink, the jungle disappeared and Mikael found himself back in his bed - no wind, no sign of Jin'Loki. He sat up and swung his feet out from under his blanket, swallowing hard - there wouldn't be any sleep after that. Wiping a thin sheen of sweat off his forehead he tugged on his leather pants and boots and slipped on a proper shirt, then rummaged through his backpack and pulled out two books he'd brought with him - Drasai's Book and an advanced spellbook that he had borrowed from the library of the warlocks in Stormwind.

That Jin'Loki was haunting his dreams now seemed like no coincidence... And now, with that strange creature having attacked Tal'Thera, well...he wasn't going to take chances and assume that the two events weren't connected, somehow. He may not know how they could possibly be connected, but this new little nightmare had firmly convinced him that additional security measures would be needed.

Earlier that afternoon when he had still been a "guest" of the Regent Lord, an idea had slowly come to him; he wasn't certain if it was a spell he had learned in his travels or if it was something he had absorbed from Drasai, but he had definitely forgotten about it until then, that was for sure. What he wanted to know, however, was whether it would even be possible to cast in the manner he was wanting to...but the nightmare had convinced him he needed to try. It was too convenient that he should dream of Jin'Loki so close after the attack, and while the idea that the troll was behind it was still nearly impossible to fathom, he found he wanted to research and see if he could cast a certain spell in a certain way...

That's what he hoped to glean from the second book, the one he'd convinced Zardeth to let him take months ago, and in Drasai's Book he hoped to possibly find the spell written down so he wouldn't have to rely on his memory. Holding both books, Mikael quietly opened the door to his room and tiptoed by Tal'Thera's door to the sitting room, settling on the small couch and crossing his legs so he could prop up the second spellbook where he could read it. He had to reach up and adjust one of the enchanted crystals floating above him to throw its light more fully on what he was reading, and slight movements in the shadows as the light source changed alerted him to the presence of the guards partially cloaked in concealing magic and standing in the corners.

Ignoring them he began to flip through Drasai's Book, seeking that spell. There were several hurdles to overcome if he was going to cast this - first, he needed to find the complete spell (which was hopefully in this Book) and then figure out if he could even cast it the way he wanted. Then, if he remembered correctly, there was a small complication with part of the spell component...

'One must learn to crawl before they walk,' he thought dryly - he'd need to see if he even had the entire spell written down first before he worried about what he had to do afterward. He stretched, rotated his ankle to adjust his crossed leg to a more comfortable position, then turned his attention fully to the two books he held in his lap.

_Surely _the blasted thing was written down in here somewhere...

* * *

The guards had been forbidden from entering her bedroom - the idea of someone watching her sleep was discomforting - and even still Tal'Thera sat up in bed, unable to sleep. The shadows seemed alive and every little shift sent her clutching her pillows in terror. She was aware of the amount of protection surrounding her, but still could not shake the feeling of being all alone with a predator closing in. Over and over the image of that frightening beast raced through her mind, and despite laying down and attempting sleep, it wouldn't come.

She jumped when she heard a soft click, but then relaxed somewhat when she heard the click again - that must have been Mikael leaving his room. As she listened, straining her ears, she heard him walk into the sitting room and then the footsteps stopped.

Despite herself, she wondered what he was doing - could he not sleep as well? With a sudden clarity, she recalled him once claiming his brother - the one he had slain himself - punished him in his dreams...had he had a nightmare? Had he heard...one of those things?

She shivered and pulled her blankets around her, not wanting to think of those monsters at all.

Silence dragged by, and still she couldn't find any rest; without truly understanding why, she slid out of bed and pulled on her bedrobe, cinching it tightly around her waist - and, with a hint of embarrassment, making sure none of her was hanging out - before silently opening her door and padding barefoot down the hall.

She paused in the doorway to the sitting room, instantly spotting Mikael sitting on the couch and intently studying two books he had open in his lap. He wasn't in his blood elf disguise, and he didn't notice her enter the room until she was nearly standing in front of him, and then he jumped.

"_I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," _she said softly, giggling behind a hand.

He looked up at her, grinning sheepishly. "_I uh...I'm afraid I didn't understand that," _he said in Orcish. "_It's a magical trinket that lets me understand you, and I don't have it on me at the moment."_

_ "Very well," _she said, switching to Orcish. "_I just said I didn't mean to startle you."_

_ "Oh, pfft," _he chuckled. "_It's no problem, I was concentrating too much, my own fault."_

She nodded, then stared at the floor. "_May I...may I sit with you?"_

He looked up at her. "_It's your home, I don't see why you're asking me to do anything," _he said, raising an eyebrow.

_"I consider it polite," _she said, frowning slightly. "_I...couldn't sleep."_

_ "Me neither." _He uncrossed his legs and gestured at the couch next to him with a smile; she slid down next to him and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

"_I don't know why," _she went on quietly. "_I don't normally seek out company, but right now..." _With a sigh she shrugged helplessly, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "_I feel too frightened to sleep...I see monsters in the shadows everywhere."_

_ "Well, out here there's only guards in the shadows, so the only one who has to worry is me."_

She laughed, then covered her mouth and glanced guiltily into the corners where she imagined the guards were hiding. Logane and Meriwend she knew, at least, understood Orcish and were two of the few guards actually hidden in her home - every word they said would be understood and remembered by the blood elves.

They lapsed into silence, Mikael returning his attention to his books though she suspected he wasn't actually reading, just trying to find something other than her to look at.

"_What are you reading?" _she asked finally.

"_I had an idea for a spell, I'm just seeing if it'll work the way I want it to," _he replied.

"_May I?" _she asked, leaning toward him.

He almost tossed one of the books across in the room in an effort to get it out of her reach. "_Uh, sure so long as you don't touch this one," _he said hurriedly.

Tal'Thera looked at him curiously, one hand resting on the book in his lap, Mikael holding the other out of her reach. "_What is wrong with that tome?"_

_ "It's...it contains the memories of a slain demon. I don't want you accidentally picking up on anything bad," _he said.

Mikael said it with a smile, but there something else behind those blue eyes of his - what, she had no way of knowing, but she had the distinct impression there was something he wasn't telling her. She hadn't realized she was staring into his eyes until his gaze slid down, and she followed it to see her hand still resting on the book in his lap. With a gasp she snatched her hand back, swallowing hard as she felt herself blush.

"_I-I'm sorry."_

He merely nodded, and she could see that he was a little red himself. "_Here, have a look," _he murmured, placing the book in her hands.

She saw it was a book of dark magic, and even just holding it she could feel a sense of unease and nastiness radiating from it. Carefully opening the cover revealed what she assumed was some sort of introduction, but it was written in Common and so she couldn't read it - one of the things she envied about that orc mage Meraka was the orc had access to a wellspring of information Tal'Thera couldn't touch, all because she knew one language more than Tal'Thera.

"_What is this?"_

_ "It's a book that was previously held by the community of warlocks living in the shadows of Stormwind society," _he said. "_I uh...I'm guessing you cannot read Common?"_

_ "No," _she said with a smile, handing the book back. "_I usually must cast a spell to allow me to glean any sort of information at all from a book in another language, and even then there is a high chance of failure."_

He took it back and balanced it on the arm of the couch, setting the other, demonic book on the floor and sliding it under where he sat on the couch with his foot. "_I can understand that. I know what allows me to understand you only works on voiced things - I can't read anything in Thalassian, sadly. Magic is limitless, but the ability of the caster certainly isn't."_

_ "Yes, Meraka is talented, but even she has things she is not well-versed in," _Tal'Thera said softly. "_I do envy her knowledge though."_

_ "She respects your talents a great deal, you know," _he said with shrug. "_She speaks very highly of you."_

Tal'Thera ducked her head, blushing again, and they fell back into silence. She felt oddly relaxed in his presence, found that her fear had subsided somewhat. Maybe she _would _permit the guards into her bedroom tomorrow night, if knowing someone was near was enough to comfort her. With the relaxed feeling came a rush of drowsiness; she felt the incredible urge to nod off, but at the same time didn't want to sleep just yet, even though she imagined dawn couldn't be too far away.

She closed her eyes and yawned...she would get up and return to bed shortly, right now she just craved company.

* * *

He hadn't felt more awkward in his entire life, to be truthful.

Mikael wished he hadn't put away the books so he'd have something to focus on other than the female sitting beside him. He knew there were several pairs of eyes on him, and could almost guarantee everything they discussed would be reported back to the Regent Lord; with a sigh he looked back to the book on the arm of the couch, intending to pick it back up and return to his search, but a slight jerk on the couch made him pause.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tal'Thera nodding off, then jerk herself awake, shaking the couch slightly. He wondered why she didn't just go to bed, but guessed she probably wasn't feeling brave enough to be on her own at the moment - he knew how unsettling nightmares could be, remembering the first few months he'd awakened in cold sweats, fighting the urge to leave his room and leave the dream behind.

It hit him then that this meant she must feel safe with him around, and the thought made his stomach flip a little bit.

The couch jerked again slightly and he smiled, sighing inwardly...then froze when he felt something solid hit his upper arm.

He peered out of the corner of his eye to see the top of Tal'Thera's head - she was leaning against him, sleeping soundly to all appearances. He swallowed and willed his heart not to race...now what? Instantly his gaze went to the shadows where he knew guards hid - nothing moved, so they either didn't care or they were watching exceptionally carefully.

And so he sat, wondering what in the world he was supposed to do now...and at about that time the female shifted slightly, and began to slip sideways.

Mikael grit his teeth and just managed to reach out and snag the very tip of a corner of a pillow and pull it to him with two fingers. With pillow in hand, he sucked in his stomach and shifted himself, letting her slide onto the pillow then gently lowering her into his lap; surprisingly she didn't wake, and instead pulled one of her hands to her lips, fingers curling loosely just in front of her face.

Mikael swallowed hard, again glancing to the shadows, waiting for guards to leap out and demand he explain what he was doing.

Indeed, a moment or so later he felt a mail-clad hand touch his shoulder.

"_I'm not doing anything," _he whispered harshly.

"_We're watching, we'll know if you do," _came the irritated reply. "_Her current position is actually our doing, and is currently to our advantage, now shut up and listen closely."_

Mikael glowered - the guard's voice had a familiar arrogant ring to it, but for the moment he couldn't place it, then pushed that thought away and focused as the guard cleared his throat softly.

"_We located another creature, this one was prowling in Murder Row," _the blood elf said. "_We do not believe Tal'Thera was the intended target, but we have no way of knowing it."_

_ "How did you find it?"_

_ "A visiting shaman, a troll, heard the thing-"_

_ "Heard?" _Mikael interrupted sharply, blinking. "_How so? They project an area of total silence around them, I could barely cast anything."_

_ "We...do not know. She was slain before we could get any assistance to her, but she managed to wound the thing enough that it was still nearby when we reached her. We attempted to take it alive but...it simply disappeared."_

_ "...disappeared?" _Mikael repeated.

_"Yes...disappeared. Like a wisp of smoke. We had gotten restraints around it and then suddenly we had empty ropes and no creature to study."_

Mikael was careful not to turn around to face the guard - not only would he risk waking up Tal'Thera, but the guard was gripping his shoulder hard and would likely prevent such a thing - but his mind reeled with the guard's information. Disappeared like smoke? Then how had he managed to kill one? How had the shaman 'heard' the beast, and what was it doing in Silvermoon in the first place?

"_This creates a lot of questions," _he muttered.

"_Indeed it does. Now," _the guard said, pausing for several moments, and when he spoke again Mikael could hear a great deal of discomfort in his voice. "_As I said, we've no idea nor any way to prove Tal'Thera as the intended target, but we have reasonable proof that you are not behind the attacks-"_

_ "No, do tell?" _Mikael muttered sarcastically.

"-_but now...I wished to speak with you in private, so not to alarm the mage," _he went on, ignoring the interruption. "S_he appears to trust you, and so in turn I will trust you."_

"_If you truly wish to prove yourself to us, prove you mean no harm," _the guard went on, and Mikael realized with a start that it was Halduron speaking to him, "_then stay with Tal'Thera and do what you must to protect her. Remain as close as possible to her, guard her well until we've figured this mess out._

_ "I would do that without needing to be asked," _Mikael replied, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, only able to see the arm that held him still.

"_Your reasons mean nothing to me, only your actions."_

Mikael sighed, then tried glancing up at the Ranger General he knew was somewhere behind him again, to no avail. _"Did you put her to sleep?"_

_ "Yes."_

With that, the hand let go of him and withdrew, leaving Mikael with Tal'Thera sleeping in his lap and with questions in his mind.

Foremost was the question of why they were trusting him to help guard Tal'Thera when only hours ago it seemed they were accusing him of being behind the attack. Blood elves didn't seem like the type to admit they were wrong, or to change their minds easily, and he could tell it had taken some effort for Halduron to admit the human's innocence. Mikael looked down at Tal'Thera silently, carefully resting a hand on her shoulder because he didn't really have anywhere else to put it, chewing on his lower lip.

Perhaps they were just hoping he'd get killed - he easily could have been, he reminded himself - if another creature chose to attack. His proximity to Tal'Thera would definitely insure that he was immediately in the line of fire - he recognized the double-edged sword Halduron wielded now: sure, the human was innocent, but perhaps he'd die anyhow and they wouldn't have to deal with him.

He inwardly sighed heavily, moving his hand from her shoulder to drape it over her, resting it on his knee. The mage slumbered peacefully, and he wondered what her reaction would be when she woke and saw where she was - which, amusingly, was the act of her own people that led to her being curled up in his lap.

He could just make out the increasing glow of sunlight coming through the space between the floor and the balcony door - dawn was here, day was coming. Glancing down at Tal'Thera again brought a helpless smile to his face; maybe he should do something so she wouldn't be absolutely mortified when she woke.

When he managed to get his arms under her and stand up he found she weighed very little, and almost looked fragile compared to him. Walking carefully, he carried her into her own bedroom and laid her out in her bed - glad the covers were already drawn back - then tugged the blankets up to her shoulder, jumping back quickly as she rolled over and almost rolled onto his hand.

"Sleep well, Tal'Thera," he whispered, backing out the door, hand on the doorknob. He thought he should likely shut the door, but there weren't any guards in the room with her, and while the only two attacks he knew of had occurred at night there wasn't any guarantee that those snake-beasts were nocturnal only. The more he thought about it, as well, the more he didn't think she'd like waking up to find him in the room with her - he certainly wouldn't want to know someone had been watching him while he slept.

But, he couldn't leave her alone...

"...Jakpit, I need you," he finally said into the silence, trying to keep from grinding his teeth together.

A moment later the imp materialized on the floor at his feet, peering up at him from behind Mikael's leg. "MastercalledforJakpit?"

"Do you think you could stay in this room with this woman, stay hidden, and let me know if anyone other than a blood elf or me comes in here?"

The imp frowned, his ears drooping. "Thatsoundsboring,butI'lldoit."

Mikael held the door open just far enough for the imp to scamper in, then quietly shut the door. He walked into his room and shut the door as well, intending to dress in his full armor...and also to cast a spell. When Tal'Thera had startled him, he had already found his answer and was merely memorizing the proper incantations; he would need to do this in relative secrecy, as no doubt people would balk at the spell component that sealed the casting. But now...if he was expected to do everything he could to protect Tal'Thera, then he had to make sure he had a way of knowing when she was in danger, in case for whatever reason he should be caught unawares - he very seriously doubted any wards or alarms set by the blood elves would alert him as well, so he would just set his own 'ward,' so to speak.

As quietly as possible he shoved his bed against the wall, to open up the needed floor space to draw a circle of power. Luckily it only had to be big enough to hold him, the caster, so not much room was actually needed. Mikael rummaged through his backpack, in a side pouch, and pulled out a linen-wrapped oblong shape, which he unwrapped and nodded when he saw the bit of chalk - he'd almost thought he'd forgotten it, to be truthful - and hefted it in his palm, then bent to painstakingly draw out the circle.

When he was finished, he returned the chalk to his bag and stepped inside the circle and began to speak slowly and clearly (and quietly) in Eredun, and the circle beneath his feet began to glow.

* * *

Tal'Thera snuggled in closer to her pillows, so incredibly tired her mind didn't register that she was no longer on her couch with Mikael. She'd awakened a moment when finely-honed magical senses told her something was different. If she hadn't been bespelled to sleep perhaps the drowsy stupor would have dissipated enough for her to make sense of what her half-opened eyes were seeing, but for now all she could do was watch and not comprehend what she was observing.

To all appearances, Mikael stood at the foot of her bed, silent and unmoving except for the fact that he looked ghostly and rippled like water in a faint breeze. His eyes were empty pits but seemed to stare at her all the same, and as she watched he silently walked around the end of her bed, to the side of the bed opposite her at her back. She wanted to roll over, but felt a warm embrace from behind even as she saw the vague outlines of an arm slide over her shoulder - he'd climbed into bed and hugged himself close. Leaning back into the embrace, it occurred to her that this wasn't normal.

Such a sight aroused enough surprised alarm that she forced herself to roll over to see-

Nothing.

There was no human in her bed, no one besides herself, not even an imprint to show anyone had climbed in beside her. No one held her; there was only the fading memory of a friendly hug and the faintest smell of something male. Groggily she shoved herself up on her elbows and looked around; no one was in her room, she was alone as best she could tell.

She thought she caught a flicker of green in the corner, but rubbed at her eyes and fell back against her pillows, confused and still very, very tired.

'You are dreaming while awake,' she told herself, yawning hugely. She cuddled back down into her pillows, eyes slipping closed, wondering what in the world she smelled.

'A waking dream, you even smell him,' she thought, and was mildly surprised that she found the smell quite pleasant. 'Why him of all people I wonder...'

* * *

Mikael was quickly buffing out the chalk circle, the spell complete and only requiring the final spell component to seal it permanently - well, he reminded himself, not _permanently. _Once he sealed it the only one who could remove it, in theory, would be him. He was certain a very, very powerful spellcaster could shatter the magic without harming Tal'Thera with the backlash, but he would just be sure to remove his spell before he left her company for good.

He would, however, need to figure out how to slip her the final bit of the spell to seal it...

* * *

Darae had quickly learned to rise early, earlier than his shan'do, to ready himself for his lessons.

First his shan'do had taught him how to meditate and clear his mind so he could easily focus on whatever she taught him the rest of the day. He'd already learned the basis behind the art of healing spells, and while he wasn't refined enough to call on them without Saliea guiding him, the knowledge remained in his mind and he hoped that some day he would be able to call magical healing to himself as easily as his shan'do did.

She was now focusing on teaching him the other side of the healing arts, taking him on long walks through the wilds of Teldrassil and instructing him on herb lore and other various plant dangers. He could name over seventy plants and their poisons and knew how to cure a few of them, and was learning the names of the rest of the plantlife that could be found on the great tree; he deeply admired Saliea's knowledge of the natural world, for he'd heard rumors that feral druids rarely could do anything other than fight or scout.

When he'd gotten the courage to voice those rumors to Sal, she laughed goodnaturedly.

"Most people do think that, as feral druids are always seen in a combat situation, but I assure you every single druid starts their training in the same way, learning the same things I teach you now...perhaps not as in-depth, of course, but how many can claim they had the Archdruid breathing down their necks for a good portion of their lives?" she added dryly. "Most of what I know is because Lord Staghelm pounded it into my thick head when I was a child."

His eyes widened. "Y-you were trained by the Archdruid himself?"

"No, I had my own teacher, but Lord Staghelm had...a special interest in me, to put it simply," she said, and when he asked further questions about it she merely smiled and returned to their lesson of the day.

Darae's knowledge increased as time wore on; he often noticed Saliea watching him carefully during their lessons, and wondered if she was waiting for him to sprout a tail.

How DID a druid change forms anyway? He supposed it was a lesson for another day.

Today's lesson was learning to reach out with the mind and examine the life around him on a more intimate level.

"This, actually, is one of the first steps to learning how to walk the Emerald Dream," she explained as they both sat under the low-hanging branches of a tall willow. "One must be able to achieve an incredible mental clarity in order to safely enter and exit the Emerald Dream. You won't be permitted to try until Lord Staghelm himself has accessed your knowledge and self-control."

"I can't wait to see what the Emerald Dream looks like," Darae murmured quietly, swallowing down his excitement at the thought and trying very hard to concentrate and clear his mind.

"Have patience," came his shan'do's quiet reply.

He sighed deeply and calmed his mind, clearing it of any distractions like she had shown him, and then he began to think on what his shan'do expected of him. He needed to reach out with his consciousness...problem being he wasn't exactly sure how to do that.

Saliea seemed to sense his hesitation. "Focus on your self, your being, then envision yourself pushing outward," she said.

'Focus on myself...' he chanted over and over in his mind. Slowly, at first unsure whether he was doing this correctly or not, Darae slowly began to feel a sense of self, of _him. _He was aware of every little thing about his body - his left heel itched, he had a muscle twitching in his thigh from sitting cross-legged, his stomach rumbled quietly as it digested his recent meal. Feeling he had achieved a sense of self, he then wondered how he was supposed to push himself outward. In his mind he could see himself sitting next to his shan'do, under the tree, as though he looked down on them like a bird...how was he supposed to do this...

Perhaps if he just pictured himself getting up and walking away, but not actually moving...

Well, no, he wasn't supposed to separate from his body - he knew that that was how druids walked the Emerald Dream, and Saliea said he wasn't ready for that.

'Push outward,' he thought firmly. 'Push my mind outward...wait. Maybe I don't need to push. If I can find a sense of self, maybe I can find a sense of other.'

He followed his awareness of his own body, down to the toes of his boots and paused, feeling the grass curling over them. Timidly he turned his gaze to the grass itself, and then followed the grass to the earth, and the earth led to the roots of the tree they sat under. There was an amazing amount of insect life hidden in the soil amongst the roots, and he entertained himself with following the burrows of an earthworm through the loam, then he found a rabbit warren and let his mind skirt along the edges of the furry little critters' home; there were three young ones in there, all snoozing contentedly.

"I see you found your way."

Darae jumped and the sensations disappeared, blinking like he'd just awakened from a very long nap as he looked over at Saliea. The tiny druidess still sat, eyes closed and hands folded in her lap, every bit of her appearing serene and comfortable.

"What?"

"Most don't catch on that the trick is to look outside yourself," Sal went on, her eyes still closed. "Even though you stumbled on to it by accident," she added. "Try it again, and this time attempt to locate me amongst the living world you sense."

Darae resumed his meditation posture and inhaled deeply, attempting to redo what he'd just done; finally he felt his mind slip out of his self and into the natural world; he found the rabbit warren again and knew he had accomplished it. Now he tried to turn his senses to the spot of grass directly beside him, where he knew his shan'do sat, and was surprised to find he didn't sense her at all.

Darae could feel himself - he stood out like a torch in dark even against the vibrant background of so much life - but Saliea was completely gone, leaving him in the company of trees and bugs. He broke his concentration and opened his eyes, glancing over to confirm that she still sat beside him.

She was, and Darae frowned, again pushing his consciousness outward and trying to locate his teacher.

He felt trees, the rabbits, the insects and the grass. Higher up in the trees he could feel birds in their nests; quite a ways away he could feel a family of nightsabers tending to their kittens, the young cats stumbling around and playing with one another, mewing and growling and chewing at whatever part of their siblings they could get their mouths around.

Further away still Darae felt an alien presence, full of confusion and malice and a backwards knowledge of the land; with a start he realized he'd located the furbolgs, and they seemed to be engaged in a fight against what he could only imagine was an intruding giant spider.

All these things and more he could feel, but his teacher still remained completely hidden from him. Maybe he had to look closer? How DID one look closer without getting lost in all the things there were to see? He began to search among the trees and bushes, slowly realizing that every living thing, whether it was plant or animal, seemed to have its own distinct aura.

The same species all felt similar, but the more he probed at the trees around them, the more he could begin to tell them apart. The willow they sat under was healthy and still very young; another willow stood twenty yards away, and he had the feeling this one had some sort of mold, some sort of rot, festering under its bark and slightly tinting the aura the tree gave off. A nearby oak was strong and tall but its trunk was mostly hollow, unlike its neighbor whose twisted trunk was whole. He could feel the difference between male and female animals, and was sad when he stumbled upon an elderly nightsaber that was calmly pacing away from its family, its jaw broken, preparing to find a place to die quietly.

"Quite easy to get distracted, isn't it?"

Again Darae jerked and came out of his trance, looking guiltily over at his shan'do who now sat up and stretched.

"There's so much...it's like trying to find a single drop of water in a pond."

"As you grow and learn, you'll discover how to focus more," Sal said, rotating her neck and grimacing. "I don't think I've sat that still in quite some time," she muttered.

"How did you do that? Hide from me, I mean."

"That's something for another lesson," she said slyly, winking. "You may go ahead and practice, examine the area around us. Its quite interesting to see things on such an intimate level."

Darae nodded, thinking of the rabbits that were nearly beneath their feet. He liked rabbits, they were cute and he had wanted one for a pet for a while. He stretched his legs out in front of him - one of his feet had fallen asleep and he massaged it gingerly - and leaned back against the tree behind them, staring up into its branches, waiting for the pins-and-needles sensation in his foot to fade. When it had turned into only a mild annoyance, he crossed his legs and began to meditate again.

This time as he let his mind skip along, racing up trees and diving to the bottom of a pond, an odd rattling, hissing noise followed his every 'step,' and he had the odd feeling something was pacing along behind him.

He couldn't sense anything other than what he already knew of, but still the noise persisted in following him. Trying to close himself to all but the noise, Darae focused on it, trying to place if he'd ever heard something like it before. It kind of sounded like a snake hissing combined with the approximate noise of a bristle broom dragged across a stone floor.

"Shan'do..." he said slowly, coming out of his meditation finally. "Do you hear something?"

"Hear what?"

Darae focused and was surprised to find he heard it, even though he wasn't in a trance anymore. "It's like a hissing noise. I heard it then and I can hear it now. What is it?"

He watched as she closed her eyes, no doubt listening, her brow furrowing after a moment or so.

"I'm sorry Darae, I don't hear anything out of the ordinary, certainly no hissing. Can you describe it better, perhaps?"

"Well, it kind of reminds me of someone sweeping a-"

Darae blinked as, despite his mouth moving, the rest of his words didn't make a noise. Saliea looked at him curiously, and for one horrible moment Darae thought he had gone deaf, as he saw his teacher's mouth move yet heard no sound, yet Saliea's face wore an expression of surprise too. She held a hand in front of her mouth and went to speak again, and once more there was no sound.

"Shan'do, what's going on?" Darae asked soundlessly, a very uneasy feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't deaf, and Saliea had no reason to have gone mute...and yet, Darae could still hear that weird hissing, rattling noise. He turned his head toward it, raising a hand to point to the west. All he could see was a bush and the wide trunk of an oak, yet the sound definitely came from that way.

"I hear it from over there, I hear something!" he said, and while Sal couldn't hear him she still looked in the direction he pointed, her expression turning from one of shocked surprise to grim caution.

She reached down and hauled him to his feet, gripping him by the upper arm and, despite how short she was, almost lifting Darae to his toes. Her other hand seized his chin and turned his face to hers.

"Be ready to run," she mouthed slowly and clearly to him. He nodded numbly, rubbing his arm as she let go and took a cautious step toward the bush and the oak.

Darae's warning shout was both unheard and unneeded as, from behind the tree trunk, the strangest creature he'd ever seen darted forth and charged for his shan'do.


	7. Chapter 7

The small pen knife was hidden, its sharp tip pointed up, in his belt on his left hip.

Tal'Thera, even though it was nearly late afternoon, had insisted on her cup of tea to start her day - even though she was mildly annoyed at herself for having slept so late. Mikael knew the true reason behind her long slumber of course, but wasn't about to tell her any time soon and spark a possible feud between her and her guards.

He watched her pouring the hot water into the cups, chewing on his lower lip and trying to hide his anxiety; he figured he had only one shot at slipping her the spell component unnoticed by either the guards or the mage herself, all he required was the proper moment. His left hand hovered near the knife in his belt, his actions hidden as it was his left side that was leaning against the kitchen counter - all it would take was one good swipe...

His moment came suddenly, as Tal'Thera turned to return the bag of tea leaves to the cabinet. Mikael, his body shielding his movements from the guards he knew to be in the living room, shoved his hand down and felt the knife bite deeply into his ring finger. He'd been aiming for his pointer finger, but when you're trying to cut yourself as fast as possible without actually looking at what you were doing, aiming correctly was a tad too much to hope for.

As Tal'Thera's head disappeared behind the cabinet door, Mikael thrust his hand out and let several drops of blood splash into both cups - to better ensure she was the one drinking the tea, as he didn't mind the fact he'd be drinking a tiny amount of his own blood.

His blood, of course, was the component needed to seal the spell he'd cast, and was in his opinion the hardest spell in his repertoire to cast because of it. It was still useful without sealing it, truthfully, but without the recipient of the spell ingesting the caster's blood - even if it was a drop or two - nearly any spellcaster could easily remove the magic, not something Mikael was hoping for. He wanted this particular spell to last as long as possible, and had decided the only way to slip Tal'Thera some of his blood unnoticed by anyone, guard or mage, was to drop it into a drink.

He could only guess what the original creator of the spell would think, knowing that he used it in this way.

Granted, now he had a rather bloody finger to deal with...

"_Uh, I'll join you in a moment," _Mikael said, pulling his hand back and grasping it in his other.

She glanced back, eyes trailing down to his bloody finger. "_Oh my, what did you do there?"_

_ "I caught my finger on my belt," _he lied...well, sort of lied. It wasn't exactly a lie, was it? "_I'll go clean this then join you outside."_

_ "Are you okay?"_

_ "I'm fine, really," _he insisted, smiling. "_It's just a small cut...I wonder what I caught it on." _He turned and retreated from the kitchen, a sour feeling in his stomach for having deceived her, but could he have possibly convinced her to swallow some of his blood? Not very likely, and there were also the guards...

Moments later he had tied a scrap of linen around his bloody digit and was heading back out to the balcony, pausing in the doorway to tuck his disguising necklace under his armor. Tal'Thera was sipping from her cup, and the sour feeling returned to his stomach as he sat down and drank from his own tea.

'I don't like the way I had to do it, but at least I know she's that much safer,' he thought grimly.

"_I do not think I will work on your sword today," _she said after a while. "_Forgive me, but I do not feel up to it."_

He nodded. "_I understand, and there isn't much of a reason for me to rush away, even if it's only to complete Thrall's request for information. The Warchief was aware I may be delayed here depending on the difficulty involved in restoring Spellcleaver - he seemed patient enough."_

She nodded thoughtfully, wrapping her hands around her cup as she sat it on the table in front of her. Mikael swallowed his tea and attempted to swallow his guilt with it, trying his hardest not to stare at her drink - it was already halfway empty, meaning the likelihood of her having swallowed enough of it to seal the spell was high.

"_Um...warlock," _she said slowly, ducking her head like she meant to disappear into her seat. "_When did I...where did I, I mean...fall asleep?"_

_ "Oh," _he said, trying his best to sound casual. "_On the couch."_

She flinched slightly and looked highly embarrassed. "_W-with you?"_

_ "Well, BY me," _he lied, thinking now was not the best time to actually tell her she'd landed in his lap.

"_And then, how did I get back into my bedroom?"_

_ "I carried you," _he said, clearing his throat and staring into his cup of now-lukewarm tea.

"_I-I see," _she whispered, quickly taking a gulp of tea.

Mikael bit his bottom lip, watching the red creep across her face and glad he had decided to take her to her room instead of staying where he was on the couch with her. He threw back the rest of his tea in a few quick swallows, then silently sat his cup down. "_I thought you would rest better if you were in your own bed." _

'Thank the Light I took her then, if she's this embarrassed over me carrying her...'

* * *

Tal'Thera nodded at him; it was true, she had rested better than she would have propped up on the couch, but right now...

Her mind flashed back to the image of Mikael at the foot of her bed, then of the phantom hug. As tired as she'd been, she'd put it down to a mere dream, a hallucination at worst...but if he'd carried her, and been in the room with her, maybe it hadn't been a dream after all.

Of course she couldn't outright ask if he'd climbed in bed with her. Not only was that a wholly inappropriate question, but she felt she knew him well enough to judge that he was honorable, that he wouldn't take advantage of her - after all, he was doing what he could to prove he meant her no harm, even having saved her from that beast attack. Despite what those in power may think, she knew in her heart Mikael was a good man.

Abruptly she shook her head. It wouldn't do to dwell on it - after all, she had seen with her own eyes that immediately after she felt the ghostly image touch her her bed had remained empty of everyone but her. There hadn't been a human cuddling in bed with her, there hadn't even been an imprint that anyone had been there. She was jumping at ghosts and shadows; this business with the creature attacking her had set her on edge.

Inhaling deeply she stood. "_As I...don't intend to delve further into the depths of Spellcleaver, would you like to go to the Bazaar with me?" _she blurted out then, reminding herself to exhale as she felt her face flush anew.

He seemed surprised by her request. "_I...sure, I'd love to."_

She nodded faintly, numbly stumbling her way into the kitchen and placing her cup on the counter. She almost ran over Meriwend and Logane as she hurried to go get her cloak and slip on something other than the soft slippers she wore around her home. As she pulled on a pair of boots she had to ask herself how long it had been since she last went walking around Silvermoon...and was saddened to discover she couldn't answer herself. With a sigh she grabbed a traveling cloak from her wardrobe and slipped it on, a rather plain garment compared to usual blood elf fashion but the gray cloth was soft, waterproof, and kept her warm enough in the winter months - all the things a cloak needed to do, and it certainly didn't need to look elaborate.

She came out to see Mikael waiting on her in the sitting room flanked by two nameless guards.

"_You don't protest that he's coming with me?" _she asked, almost fearing the answer.

The guard to Mikael's left shrugged. "_He is part of your protection for now, and until he is barred from walking the city proper we will not stop him."_

Tal'Thera blinked; Mikael was part of her guard now? When had that happened? Last she knew her people had been all but accusing him of the attack, and now he was her guardian? The world had certainly been a strange place lately.

He followed as she wound down the tiny staircase, crossed her little shop - that she hadn't had open since Mikael's arrival - and stepped out into the Bazaar. At first the bustle of people brought a little rush of anxiety, but she swallowed her nervousness - it was foolish to be fearful of one's own people anyhow - and joined the flow of pedestrian traffic with Mikael and the guards pacing behind her.

A few moments later she was aware the guards were no longer in sight, not something that worried her as she knew from previous excursions that they purposely lost themselves in the crowd so they wouldn't draw attention to her; that little thrill of adrenaline came back when she turned and smiled up at her remaining visible protector, Mikael.

"_The apartment felt a little stuffy, and I needed a few things for my enchantments besides," _she said, aware of how silly she sounded, babbling.

He smiled at her but didn't comment, quietly following along as she threaded her way through the crowd, knowing that the magical components she lacked could only be found in one tiny shop at the far end of the Bazaar, situated - like her own home - on the dividing wall between the Dead Scar and the restored half of Silvermoon City. It took several minutes to get across the Bazaar, even walking with the flow of people, and finally she paused outside an unmarked, unremarkable door set into the wall.

As always the faint smell of incense greeted her as she pushed the door open and stepped into the shop. A smattering of candles poorly lit the room, which was paneled in a very dark-stained hardwood of some sort; she always found the room suffocating for it was always much too hot and very dark, but she knew she had nothing to fear here. The room was, to all appearances, bare, with only heavy drapes hanging from walls and ceiling; everything sold here was kept safely from prying eyes, most of it likely highly illegal or dangerous, and this front room was only for show, to scare away the faint of heart - and Tal'Thera would have easily been scared away had she not been desperate ages ago for magical knowledge.

Mikael was standing beside her, and Tal'Thera swore she could feel the anxiety rolling off him; she placed a comforting hand on his upper arm, smiling.

"_It's fine, I know the woman who owns this place."_

_ "Indeed you do."_

As usual, the woman seemed to appear from thin air, walking from the shadows like she'd been standing there all along; Tal'Thera felt Mikael tense beneath her touch, and gave him what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

The woman who walked up to them was every bit the appearance of a children's fairytale villainess: her hair was black and curled and hung down her back, her clothing looked like nothing more than black gauze wrapped appealingly around a slender body. Tal'Thera sensed more than saw Mikael immediately drop his gaze to the floor, and squeezed his arm again - Arachne was always a strange mix of surprise and embarrassment to newcomers. Arachne, so far as Tal'Thera knew, wasn't married and enjoyed prowling for men, and she wasn't even sure Arachne was the female's true name; instinctively Tal'Thera stepped forward, in front of Mikael, and gave her Arachne a friendly smile.

"_I require some arcane dusts and crushed gemstones for a few enchantments I am working on," _Tal'Thera said quickly. "_I do hope you have what I need?"_

_ "You know I always do, dear," _Arachne said distractedly, moving to stand almost nose to nose with Mikael. "_And who is this fine specimen?"_

_ "A guest of mine," _Tal'Thera replied, emphasizing the word 'mine.' "_I am eager to return home and finish my work for the day, I can give you a list of things I need."_

_ "Go upstairs and get it yourself, I trust you," _Arachne purred, running a finger across Mikael's chest; Tal'Thera stepped aside as Mikael flinched away from the other woman's touch, her hand still on his upper arm.

"_Arachne, he is not for sale in any sense of the word," _Tal'Thera said firmly, moving to stand in front of him, a sort of living shield between the disguised human and the shopkeeper.

"_I don't want to buy him, just try him on for size. What sort of friends would we be if we did not share?"_

Tal'Thera felt her face reddening, and had the feeling that Arachne was enjoying herself immensely. "_Arachne, I have things I require. Will you sell them to me or not?"_

The raven-haired female stroked her chin, a sinister grin crossing her face. "_I'll tell you what...if you agree to go upstairs and gather what you require, and leave this delicious male in my company while you do so, I will halve the price of what you intend on purchasing."_

Tal'Thera felt tense hands rest gently on her shoulder, and paused in her refusal to look up at Mikael in confusion.

He looked pale and very self-conscious, but swallowed hard and inhaled deeply.

"_The quicker you gather what you need, the quicker we can leave," _he said quietly. "_I...I can endure her company for a few moments." _Again he swallowed. "_Just uh...just hurry the best you can."_

She nodded, not seeing a way around it. As soon as she took a step away from the human, heading for the door she knew to be hidden at the back of the shop, Arachne moved closer to Mikael and again peered up into his face. Tal'Thera found she was grinding her teeth together as she moved aside a tapestry and revealed a door, hurrying through it and up the staircase behind.

* * *

Unfortunately the shop was only so big, and within moments Mikael found his back pressed flat against the wall with Arachne uncomfortably close.

"_I do not believe I have seen you in Silvermoon before," _she purred, "_I'm certain a face like yours I would not forget."_

_ "I'm a rather forgettable person, actually," _he said, fixing his gaze on a far point above her head on the back wall.

She chuckled, every bit a practiced seductress; Mikael stiffened, hardly breathing, as he felt her fingers caress his chest again.

'Don't do anything to encourage her, don't do anything to encourage her,' he chanted in his head. Elervina had taught him well when it came to effectively ignoring overly amorous females: rule number one was not to make eye contact.

Now he felt nails scratch across the leather. "_You leave marks and you'll pay to have them removed," _he said coolly.

"_I won't mark your armor if you take it off...I'll just scratch elsewhere."_

Mikael inhaled deeply and suddenly sidestepped - Arachne, who had just been leaning in to rub her cheek against his chest, thudded into the wall with a surprised squeak. Moving Mikael caught a whiff of heavy perfume that made him feel slightly lightheaded, and he backed away as Arachne straightened and turned back toward him.

"_You are a hard man to seduce."_

_ "Ayep," _Mikael said, clasping his hands behind his back. "_I'm not interested, sorry."_

_ "There are several males who would kill for the opportunity to share my bed."_

_ "I have better things to do than play around with the city whore."_

Arachne tossed her head back and laughed. "_Whore? I am a mistress of Silvermoon. A lover to many, beholden to none, self-reliant and full of self-confidence."_

_ "That I believe," _Mikael muttered quietly.

She paced toward him, but in a matter-of-fact way instead of enticing. "_You are an honorable man, I will give you that. What are you to Tal'Thera?"_

_ "Excuse me?"_

_ "What do you mean to Tal'Thera? Why are you with her?"_

She stopped a few steps from him, crossing her arms and studying him; he once again fixed his gaze somewhere above her head. "_Why do you ask?"_

_ "Because if you are her lover, I must try harder," _she said, smiling slyly.

He blushed. "_Uh, not lover, no. Friend and guardian."_

_ "Do you have a mate?"_

_ "No."_

She tapped a manicured fingernail against her bottom lip. "_Do you prefer more...masculine company?"_

_ "W-What?" _he sputtered. "_I definitely prefer...just because I don't have a woman...that doesn't make me that way!" _he snapped.

"_Then what's a darling man such as yourself doing without a woman?" _Arachne asked with a sigh. "_Females should be throwing themselves at your feet, you could easily have your pick of any girl in the city with little effort on your part."_

_ "I'm not from around here," _he said dryly. "_And sorry, but I won't bed any woman that comes up to me, no matter how insistent."_

_ "You are a strange, strange man."_

_ "There's strange, and then there's proper," _Mikael said with a snort. "_I was raised to treat women with courtesy and respect, not as...bedtime playthings. You may choose to conduct yourself in such a manner, but I won't."_

_ "Conduct myself? Such polite language," _Arachne chuckled. _"So, whyever would Tal'Thera need a guardian?"_

_ "That's her business, not yours."_

_ "Anything that goes on in the city of Silvermoon in my business," _she responded smoothly. Suddenly she had an aromatic tobacco pipe in her hands, and lit it with a spell she released from the tip of one smooth finger - Mikael honestly wondered where in the world she'd been hiding that in her clothing, or lack thereof. She took a long puff and blew a ring of smoke at him. "_Among...other things...I am a broker in information. I buy, sell, and trade in magical items, but material objects are not the only things of worth in this world."_

Mikael waved a hand and broke apart the smoke before it reached him, scattering the ring and catching a strong whiff of the tobacco - it was sweet and light, unlike the heavy and rich smell of the stuff he knew came from Ironforge. "_So you're an informant."_

"_Guilty as charged, my dear," _she purred, taking another drag off the pipe and exhaling slowly. "_You would be amazed at the secrets a beautiful face can hide...dirty, dark, secrets. I am called Arachne after some long-dead word for spider, for it is whispered behind my back that anything said anywhere eventually makes it to my web and comes back here to my lair - everything including that little tidbit there." _She grasped the pipe by its bowl and twisted it through the air, drawing a crude spider before blowing through it. "_There isn't a thing that happens in Silvermoon that I do not know about...including you, human."_

Mikael jumped like he'd been burned. "_What?"_

_ "I know you're a human, I knew the moment you stepped into our fair city."_

_ "If you knew I was a human, then why the charade?" _he sputtered. "_I wasn't under the impression that elves particularly cared for us."_

She shrugged. "_Do I care if you live or die here? No. Had I been able to coax you to my bed, well, that would have been a business perk, but I see you as I see all living, sentient beings: business opportunities. Troll or dwarf, human or orc, Horde or Alliance, your gold all spends the same."_

_ "So what have you gained from me then?"_

Puffing on the pipe she began to pace, staring up into the darkness of her ceiling. "_Precious little, to be honest. I have nothing to blackmail you with, nothing to sway you to my services. Honorable men are the hardest to deal with, and the hardest to cheat. Don't let your honesty and your honor get in the way of your life, boy. A lie can carry you just as far as the truth."_

_ "You're an information broker, lies will ruin your business."_

She grinned slyly at him. "_I give what I am paid to inform. If the truth cannot be found, a little white lie does wonders to keep them around and paying until the correct information is procured."_

Mikael sighed. "_So you're a professional liar?"_

_ "Ha! You understand finally!" _she crowed, flipping her pipe over and letting the lit stuff hit the floor, which she promptly crushed out beneath her foot, and it suddenly hit Mikael that he wasn't smelling incense but untold amounts of pipesmoke that had infused all the drapes with its scent. "_There is a difference between a wise lie and a foolish one. It is my job to walk the boundary between and decide when and to whom to dispense my knowledge. Wars are fought and won on good information, sparked and ended, feuds can come to peaceful or grisly ends."_

_ "You just decide how best to profit," _Mikael said dryly.

Arachne shook her head. "_Please, I've far more honor than that. Sometimes one must look ahead to their continued survival - all the gold in the world matters not if you're not alive to spend it." _The hand with her empty pipe disappeared behind her back, then reappeared holding a sealed bone tube.

"_Where were you hiding that?" _he asked in amazement.

"_Same place I keep my pipe," _she replied slyly. She offered the tube to him, frowning when he didn't move to take it. "_You seek this. Take it."_

_ "I don't even know what it is, nor what you want in payment."_

_ "A kiss will suffice," _she said with a grin, again waving the tube practically beneath his nose.

He pushed the tube away and crossed his arms with a sigh, frowning. "_My honor is not for sale."_

She threw up her hands with a growl. "_Fine, then you shall merely owe me a favor, but believe me, this is something you will be glad to have. You would have discovered it on your own anyway, I am merely saving you time you likely do not have." _She raised an eyebrow at him. "_You have my word the favor shall be nothing big, merely a bit of information when I next require it."_

_ "What could I know that you possibly couldn't find out yourself?"_

_ "Names, access to the birth records kept in the Cathedral of Light in Stormwind, and to the library in Stormwind Keep," _she said. "_I've had questions in the past regarding family and military histories, and most of it is out of my reach. I'm certain my network of informants will grow with time - it always has - but it will be nice to have someone in place who can glance at a list and tell me a few names every now and then."_

"_And why would you need to know family histories?" _he asked warily.

The look she sent him was two parts frustration and one part amusement. "_Would YOU care to wed a sister you didn't know personally yet suspected you had? I think not." _

Again she offered him the tube, and he sighed as he took it; it was the sort of tube used to hold documents and was as slim as his smallest finger, sealed at one end with wax, and she clapped a hand over his when he went to pop the seal and open it, shaking her head.

"_Not here."_

She stepped back, and finally Mikael spied over her shoulder the door in the back open, Tal'Thera stepping out. He quickly slipped the bone tube into his belt at his hip and straightened his shoulders. The mage looked from the female to the male, polite curiosity in her features but she didn't ask; she had a small cloth sack, about the size of her fist, clutched in one hand and with the other hand was pulling coins from her purse. A small stack of gold went into Arachne's waiting hand, and the black-haired blood elf quickly counted it.

Her business completed, Tal'Thera motioned for the door and headed that way, Mikael following at her elbow.

"_Wait."_

They both turned in time to see Arachne flick two things their direction with matching metallic 'tings.' Tal'Thera caught one and Mikael the other, opening their fists to see a gold coin resting in their palms.

"_Bring him with you again if you ever get the chance. I like him," _the woman said, turning and disappearing into the door in the back.

Mikael dropped the coin into Tal'Thera's hand and opened the door for her, silently exiting behind her and then leaning against the shut door, exhaling noisily.

"_Interesting female," _he said faintly.

"_I'm sorry, being female myself I forget how she gets around males," _Tal'Thera said quickly, reaching out to touch his arm. "_Are you okay?"_

_ "My honor is intact if that's what you're asking. I think my nightmares might have a new villain however." _He shrugged his arm so her hand settled in the crook of his elbow. "_Shall we?"_

She smiled and nodded, though a small voice in the back of her head wondered what the guards watching would think; for now she simply let him escort her, wondering what had happened while she'd been upstairs but believing now was not the time nor the place to ask.

Once they had reached her home, Tal'Thera placed her little cloth sack into her workshop and closed the door, her questions dying on the tip of her tongue as she saw Mikael sitting on the couch again, studying a thin tube he held in his hands.

"_What is that?"_

_ "I don't know, it is something Arachne insisted I would want. She said I was looking for it."_

She came around the chairs and perched on the couch next to him, watching as he popped the soft seal with the tip of a fingernail and then carefully pulled out the tightly-rolled parchment from within. He smoothed it over his knees and looked at it, his expression fading from one of curiosity to shocked surprise.

Tal'Thera looked at the scribbles - for it was written in Common, and might as well been squibbles to her - and then up at him. "_What? What is it?"_

_ "T-this is a list...of the current disappearances in the Alliance territories," _he sputtered. "_This is what Thrall sent me to...Arachne said this was something I'd eventually find out on my own, but I might not have the time to do it..." _he said slowly, eyes roving over the list. None of them stood out as someone he knew, but still...these were people who likely had families and friends, and all had gone missing without a trace. Their names were reduced to a single list, three columns of tiny, neat script that filled the page. Mikael wondered when the list had been written, how recent it was, but in reality it was better than the information Thrall already had.

"_Why would she give it to you, though, instead of to the Warchief directly?"_

'Wars are fought and won on good information, sparked and ended, feuds can come to peaceful or grisly ends,' echoed through his mind. Thrall had said something to the effect of possibly making the situation worse if he didn't properly inquire through diplomatic channels...and had hinted that there were factions within his Horde that blamed the disappearances on the Alliance...

"_They're afraid..." _he whispered. "_Afraid of sparking a new war..." _Mikael stood and began to pace. "_The Warchief said there were those in his territories that outright blame the Alliance for all these disappearances, and he wanted the information I hold now to try and disprove that. I was asked to secretly retrieve the information."_

_ "But why you?"_

_ "I'm on the side blamed for them," _he said. "_If the Alliance would talk to the Horde, maybe it would prove we've nothing to hide, because this list shows there's been just enough disappearances on our side as yours. And it had to be a member of the Alliance, because..." _he trailed off, thinking. "_Because...if it wasn't, fanatics might dismiss it as a fabricated falsehood and turn on Thrall, claiming he has allied himself with the Alliance against the best interests of his people. He said something to that effect while I was there...great," _Mikael suddenly groaned, flopping back onto the couch. "_Not only could this spark a war between Horde and Alliance, but it could set off numerous little civil wars if not handled carefully, because if Thrall is worried about it I can almost guarantee we're suffering the same issues within the Alliance."_

Tal'Thera sat silently, digesting all that, staring at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. After a moment, she inhaled and then exhaled slowly. "_Civil wars on either side could tear the world apart. There would be no hope for peace, for anyone, if that occurred. I think I see why she forced the information on you, because she most certainly acquired it through questionable means, and if anyone could be accused of fabricating information, it would be people who sell it for a living." _Tal'Thera looked over at him, shaking her head. "_Any sort of contact with the Alliance is heavily frowned upon."_

_ "Yeah, Thrall also said he'd get nowhere if he didn't pursue the _proper diplomatic channels," Mikael said dryly, slowly beginning to roll the list back up so he could slide it back into the tube. Once he had gotten it back into the container he slid the entire thing down into his boot, wiggling his foot around to somewhat make room for the slender little thing. He was quite aware that several guards had just seen and heard everything, but mentally he dared one of them to try and take the document from him: guest of Silvermoon or not, if anyone tried stealing from him, they were stealing from the Warchief and Mikael had no intentions of easily letting such information get taken from him and would defend himself with no remorse. Let them carry their reports back to Halduron or the Regent Lord: Mikael was ready.

Tal'Thera stood abruptly, purposely not looking at him as she slid around the furniture and headed for her workshop. "_I'll just...I'll get to work setting the final enchantments, so that you may be on your way," _she said quietly, stepping through and shutting the door behind her without a further word.

A shadow detached from the wall, revealing itself to be Meriwend, and with an especially sour look thrown in Mikael's direction the female silently opened the door and stepped inside - Mikael wondered how Tal'Thera would take the invasion of privacy, as Meriwend closed the door behind her.

He sighed and stood, wiggling his foot to settle the tube against his leg, finally arranging it so it laid against his skin in the little area between ankle bone and heel; with it riding in that area comfortably, Mikael strode through the kitchen and out onto the balcony to get some air and to find a relatively quiet place to think.

* * *

The two snarling beasts - one a dark panther and the other a scaled monstrosity - met in midair with what would have been a colossal crash had Darae's ears not closed themselves to sound. The lack of any noise at all made the battle he was witnessing unreal, not happening: Sal spun and tore, ripped and shredded, bit and clawed every bit as fiercely as the snake-creature, and soon the forms of both were spattered with dark wet blood, a mix of their own and their opponent's.

He watched in amazement as the two seemingly danced around one another. Sal darted in to shred a shoulder even as it bit violently into a caught paw; his mind provided the 'crack!' as her other paw came swinging in and shattered the jawbone of the beast, snapping the head back and providing an opening for her to go for the throat.

As she dove in, however, the creature fell back and raked at her with its clawed hind feet; Darae felt a sickening terror as he thought of his shan'do's unborn child, but the druid deftly broke off her attack and twisted, putting her underbelly safely out of harm's way but giving the monster the time it needed to get back on its feet. Again they circled, then clashed together, ripping and biting at one another, panther hide proving just as tough as reptile scale.

Sal dove away and began to circle wide, and the creature spun in place to keep her in its sight; Darae dropped to the ground and covered his ears when it suddenly loosed an earsplitting, rattling roar. Eyes watering and ears ringing, Darae looked up to see his shan'do totally unaffected by the noise.

'Why can't she hear it and I can?' he wondered.

About that time he another rattle, and with a start realized she'd told him to _run..._

A second creature, the same size as the first, dropped out of the tree Darae huddled by and almost actually fell on him, but took no notice of him at all and instead raced for Sal just as the druid circled and put her back to where her student lay.

"Shan'do! There's another!" he shouted soundlessly, but could only watch as the second slammed into Saliea's back and sent them both tumbling to the ground, the first creature leaping into the fray and mercilessly began to rip her back and side open.

* * *

"...and we've been here and heard reports," Sevei said, tapping the map with a finger. "There seems to be no connection at all between disappearances in any of the places we stopped at, but there is a lot of ground to cover."

"Indeed," Donnovan said quietly, leaning over the map spread out on Fandral's desk. "Well, if I had to start somewhere, I think I'll head to Auberdine and follow up on any reports from there, then north to Moonglade and across to Winterspring."

Fandral shook his head. "I have already sent someone to Winterspring."

"Well, good then. I hate snow," Donnovan chuckled. "Any word from Stonetalon?"

"No, nor from Lomar in Desolace. I received word from Grace that she is leaving Shimmering Flats and heading to speak with the tauren, and then the night elves stationed in Thalanaar in Thousand Needles."

"Hmm...perhaps a trip south for me then, straight through Stonetalon and out to Desolace. You're certain Lomar got there?"

The Archdruid nodded, but sighed in annoyance. "Yes yes, I'm certain he _arrived _at Nijel's Point. Whether the damned Scarlet fanatics left him alone or not is anyone's guess. He may be hiding in the hills somewhere...or may be one of the disappeared himself," he added quietly.

Donnovan stretched and stood up straight, helping himself to the decanter of wine Fandral had sitting on the corner of his desk. "Glasses?"

"Bottom cabinet under those books over there, and thank you for asking first," the druid said sourly.

Chuckling, the rogue pulled out three glasses and splashed a small bit of wine into each; Sevei accepted his with a smile but didn't sip immediately from it. Donnovan finished off his glass quickly and reached to fill it, Fandral reaching out to slap his hand away, and Sevei did his best to hide his smile as he listened to the two males bantering back and forth as they further worked out details of where Donnovan would be traveling.

He had just raised his glass to his lips when he felt the overwhelming presence of the wind press in around him. Fandral and Donnovan paused, obviously at least sensing the change in the room, but unable to tell what it was, but Sevei's attention was not on them.

_YOUR WIFE! _the wind screamed through his head.

"Sal!" he gasped, his stomach clenching instantly in fear.

The glass of wine hit the ground and shattered, having slipped through suddenly nerve-less fingers, but Sevei was already out the door and leaping over the walkway's edge, falling and hitting the ground with such force that he cracked the sidewalk even with the wind having cushioned his fall. The draenei stuck two fingers in his mouth and blew, and in a few seconds he spied Bracas coming from where the talbuk had been calmly grazing at the base of a tree that housed the druids; the shaman leapt to the talbuk's back and pushed him into an immediate gallop, the wind shoving at their backs.

Sevei thanked the wind for coming to get him, and asked where Saliea was.

_I will show you, but hurry!_

Swallowing down fear - or trying to - Sevei gave Bracas full reign, only directing him around obstacles in their path. Anyone, nigh elf or otherwise, who found themselves in the way of the rushing shaman were gently but urgently pushed aside by a gust of air, and left in his wake wondering what had him in such a hurry.

* * *

Fandral's gut hurt where he'd come up short against the railing of the walkway, watching the receding figure of the shaman disappear into the populace of Darnassus, but a different hurt was building in the pit of his stomach, one born of fear for both his foster daughter and his grandchild.

"Get me a nightsaber!" he roared down at the elves he could see below that were staring in amazement at the near-crater Sevei had left from his fall. They jumped, but hurried to locate one of the big cats even as the Archdruid ran down the walkway - he knew better than to make such a reckless jump - and by the time Fandral (with Donnovan right on his heels) had made it down there was a pure black saber waiting on him, armored and ready to ride.

The druid mounted, then spun on Donnovan. "Summon my druids and Sentinels as well, follow me and the shaman. Whatever is foolish enough to attack _my _foster daughter will not get the chance to do so again."

"Kick it in the teeth for me, I'll be along immediately," Donnovan called over his shoulder as he darted into the doorway of one of the nearby tree dwellings of the druids.

Fandral leaned down to the night saber. "The talbuk, can you follow it?"

The cat blinked wild yellow eyes, then lowered its head to the ground and sniffed about carefully. A menacing growl confirmed it had found the scent of Bracas - which the cat would likely consider prey as it tracked - and Fandral urged the cat to go. With an excited roar the feline took off, sprinting quickly and easily after the shaman.

* * *

Their weight on top of her was suffocating, and she struggled mightily against the claws that raked every bit of her they could reach. It took a moment to gather her scattered senses and shift her form, giving them attacking monsters plenty of time to rip her entire right leg open, but she threw them both as she rose, no longer a snarling, lithe cat but a very, very angry bulk of a bear.

Blood caused her skin to itch where her fur stuck to it, but she didn't dare pause to see how badly damaged her leg was, as the two snake-beasts recovered quickly and were back at her again.

Her bear hide was much, much harder to pierce than panther hide, and under that thick fur and skin were layers of fat and corded muscle - they would really have to dig to hit anything vital now, or so she hoped. The future of the child she carried within her depended on it, and she was incredibly thankful she was still too early in her pregnancy for shifting forms to become dangerous for she had no doubt that she would have been dead either way.

As it was she was restricted in how she fought, even as a hulking she-bear. Raising up on her hind legs to tower over the beasts and to give her easier access to their heads and chests would expose her vulnerable stomach-area, something she was going to protect in any way she could until her dying breath. She swiped from side to side as the creatures spread out to flank her, keeping them at bay while she tried deciding her best course of action; if she focused on one the other would find openings, but there was little chance she could fight off or kill both of them at the same time. She needed to make a decision.

Without warning one of them charged and she turned to slam a meaty paw into its face, and as it staggered back she realized it was the one whose jaw she had broken earlier. As she recognized this the second one ran behind and wrapped arms around her lower section, digging claws into fur when it found it couldn't reach around her girth. Panicked, those claws dangerously close to the one thing Saliea would protect until she died, the druid twisted and slammed her forehead into the forehead of the creature. The claws left shallow furrows in her skin as she forced herself around in its grasp and began to snap at it, both trying to grab hold of the other's throat.

With a surge of strength, however, the thing strained and managed to lift her from the ground; shocked, Sal found herself twisted the wrong direction, then found herself tossed like a rag doll to slam into the solid trunk of an oak. The impact was enough to force her out of form, and she laid there dazed as the creature that had thrown her stalked in, the one with the broken jaw nowhere to be seen.

Shaking her head and trying to come to her senses, Sal grasped handfuls of the grass and of the leaves that littered the ground under her and threw them; a sharp wind kicked up even as the projectiles sharpened like steel and thudded into chest and arms of the stalking monster. It fell back, trying to brush the embedded greenery from itself, and Sal flattened her hands on the ground, then brought them up to steeple her fingers before her face. The leaves reacted and began to grow at an alarming rate, blanketing the creature in a suffocating grip as they enlarged and began to envelope.

Thinking the threat held at bay a moment, Sal began to look for the second beast as a wave of dizziness overcame her and her vision swam. She spared a moment to look down at her injury, and saw with dismay that her leg resembled a slab of raw meat; it was shredded to the bone on her shin and she had deep claw marks crisscrossing everywhere, all under ruined armor and bleeding badly, the worst of the damage in the flesh of the back of her calf and up her leg almost into her buttocks. Without the immediate adrenaline rush of battle, and without the tempering stamina she gained when she took on the form of an animal, the pain and the blood loss were beginning to take a toll on her. She willed her foot to move and frowned when all she could summon was a feeble twitch - she needed to dispatch the second creature and seek help as fast as she could.

Where _was _the other one anyhow?

In sudden inspiration - and dread - she looked up in time to see it descending rapidly down the tree trunk at her, its mouth flapping open with its useless jaw.

Sal dug fingers into the bark of the tree behind her in desperation, and almost wept in relief when she felt the tree respond to her plea for help. Beneath her roots ripped free from the ground and rose up, encompassing the druid and forming a barrier between her and the falling creature; even as her world grew darker, the constant twilight of night elven lands hidden from her by a shield of dirt-coated roots, Sal was feverishly working to try and stem the flow of blood from her injury...and very grimly trying to convince herself that she possessed the skill and power necessary to patch herself back together enough to prevent a slow death from blood loss.

A moment later her root-protection shuddered, and then the tree withdrew its roots back into the earth as quickly as it had uprooted them to come to her aid; Sal suddenly found herself pinned under the gutted remains of the second monster, all but torn apart from its impact with sharpened wood. It was much bigger than her and very heavy, and now on top of the dizziness and exhaustion was the difficulty in drawing enough air to function. She wished the tree had held up its protection a bit longer, to give her enough time to at least move, but she was thankful it had responded to her at all, and incredibly thankful that it had killed the thing. Now for the second one...

...the second one...

She looked up in time to see leaves and grass fly every which direction as the second and final creature broke free. Her eyes met the gaze of it, and she swore it smiled knowingly - she hadn't the strength to even budge the dead one sitting on her, how could she possibly fight off the remaining monster?

It charged even as she was shoving at the dead thing on top of her, managing to roll it off enough that she could partially sit up and try to meet the monster's charge. It slapped away her blocking hands and locked a hand around her throat, lifting and squeezing.

Sal grasped at the hand throttling her, feeling faint as new waves of agony assaulted her as it ripped her out from under its dead companion, her bad leg raking across scale in the wrong direction. She tried to summon a defense, but even as spells came to mind the creature pulled back and slammed her into the tree trunk, mouth open in a silent snarl.

As she thudded back and forth, over and over, her vision began to narrow to a small point; she tried squeaking out a spell but couldn't breathe. Desperately she reached for the heavens to call down burning moonfire but the spell fizzled and failed, and failed again when she tried it a second time. By this time her lungs were burning, and fighting the darkness, the blood loss, the lack of air, was all too much for the druid and her hands slowly slipped numbly from the creature's arm.

'Why is it taking so long to kill me?' she wondered morbidly. 'I'm so sorry...Sevei, Darae...everyone...I got rid of one...at least...' She didn't mourn her own death, instead mourning that her child died here with her, and wished she could have at least seen her husband one last time.

* * *

Its prey limp and unresponsive, the thing brought it to its nose and sniffed excitedly. It smelled good, nice and bloody. In its mind was the overwhelming need to take the night elf back with it, and so, hand still gripped around the female's neck, it began to drag her as it looked for a suitable place to phase back home.

It circled around the tree it had bludgeoned her on and blinked into the twilight for a nice, darkened spot to disappear into.

There, there at the base of that tree, amongst the upraised roots. That should do.

It shuffled for the shadows, and was so intent on its destination that the figure that stepped out from within a bush took it completely by surprise. The swing of the figure's sword, easily as long as the figure was tall, cut the creature into four pieces that twitched and squirmed on the ground before the sword finished the job by slicing the head neatly in two. The figure, a night elf male, quickly rolled the severed parts away from the unconscious druid, the dead bits beginning to sizzle and smoke, and before his eyes began to melt into puddles of sludge. Ignoring them he instead swung his sword to his back and bent over Saliea.

The male had light blue hair that hung wildly around his narrow face that bore a skeletal look to it; he wore a white blindfold over his eyes, identical to a white armband tied around his right forearm. His armor was plain plate, dented and scratched to the point it was a dull gray, with hints of chainmail glinting at his joints as he shifted and knelt to carefully check for a pulse in the female's neck.

He jerked and looked up, shifting to sit on his knees as he stared back behind him.

"Well, come out then. If we're going to save your teacher we need to get her somewhere they can find her."

He watched impassively as, shaking, a small night elf boy slipped out from behind an oak near to where the druid had fallen, and timidly approached him.

"Come on, we don't have much time." He turned back to the druid, shifting his massive sword so the tip wouldn't drag the ground, and once again reached for her. Using two fingers he turned her head this way and that, shaking his head. "She took a beating but isn't dead, not yet anyhow. Get _over _here, boy!" he snapped, turning and gesturing impatiently. "She will most certainly die if I do not have your assistance. She's lost a lot of blood, there's a draught that can be brewed to help her body cope with losing so much. I assume you know herb lore?"

A very small nod confirmed it.

"Then I need you to gather some peacebloom and silverleaf, and some earthroot if you can find any. I am going to take her to the road so we're more easily located. Can you find those things for me?"

Another small nod.

"Good, then get going," he ordered, slipping hands under the druid and easily lifting her. The tip of his weapon scraped the ground as he stood; he ignored as the boy ran off into the near-darkness, not fearing for him as he was quite certain there weren't any more of those creatures around. The druid in his arms was lucky: if he hadn't happened by, she would most certainly be dead right now...or worse.

She was in danger of still dying, if his quick assessment of her wound had been correct. Taking a moment to get his bearings, the male set off through the trees heading for where he knew to be the main road that wound its way through Teldrassil.


	8. Chapter 8

"Now then, let's see what I can do for you while we wait, mmm?" the night elf muttered, having settled his armload of injured druid in a patch of soft grass just off the main road, sliding his huge sword off his back and laying it in the grass nearby. "Pity my skills in the art of healing aren't that great - and I've certainly had more than my fair share of time to perfect them - but I'll do what I can."

He flexed fingers and rubbed his hands together, digging through his memory to call up the spells he needed, not even able to recall the last time he'd needed to use them. Finally, with faint green wisps of magic dancing around his fingers, he began to cast and try to knit the woman's leg back together. All the minor scratches, and the deep gashes at the edges, began to close with new, tender skin pulling together like water, but his magic had its work cut out for it when it came to the worst of it all.

"Come on," he muttered, urging rejuvenating magic into the leg. "At least stop bleeding."

He heard footsteps approaching, and from how light they were he guessed that the young boy was returning; sure enough Darae came running into view, his arms loaded with bristly silverleaf and a handful of peacebloom. When the boy all but dumped his armload at the night elf male's feet, he nodded when he saw the knobbly forms of a few earthroots in the mix as well.

"Good job. Now. Back the way we came, just south of where you were attacked, is my campsite. Go there and bring my knapsack - kick out the fire while you're at it - and, if they happen to be out, the little copper kettle and a tin box with flint, steel, and timber."

"Will my shan'do be okay?" the boy asked.

He sounded subdued. In shock. The male nodded, turning his attention back to trying to summon enough healing magic to do anything. "She will be, if you hurry."

Without argument the boy ran off again; he'd said 'shan'do,' and so he'd guessed correctly he'd come across a teacher and a student. All the better, really, for if he'd found mother and son he imagined he'd have had more difficulty in simply ordering the boy about.

The more he kept at it, the easier the healing spells came to him and finally he felt he was making a difference as he used his fingers to wipe away the blood and none oozed out to replace what he cleaned away.

"All right, I think you'll be fine," he said, looking down at bloodstained hands and frowning. He hoped he'd remembered to refill his water canteen...

He felt the ground vibrate and expectantly turned up the road, cleaning his hands the best he could on the grass underneath him; carefully he slid a hand near to his weapon...just in case...but he had a feeling he knew who was coming anyway. Sure enough, hoofbeats reached his ears and minutes later a strange, horned beast was thundering down the road at him, a mount of some sort bearing a very distressed draenei. The draenei, when close enough, leapt from his mount with a burst of wind that actually blew the kneeling night elf over.

"Quite the entrance," he muttered, righting himself, eyes widening when he spied the draenei drawing weapons. "Wait wait, hold!" he hissed, scrambling to seize the massive sword laying in the grass. "I'm not your enemy!"

"Get away from my wife!" the draenei snarled, angry red flames engulfing the axes he held in his hands.

Holding up one hand and dragging his weapon with the other, the night elf shuffled away on his knees; the draenei's eyes flashed when he spied the bloodied hand held out his way, but his attention quickly moved from the male to Sal laying in the grass.

The axes fell to the ground, their fires sputtering out as they landed in the grass as their owner fell to his knees over the druid. He heard quiet murmuring as, with glowing hands, the draenei bent determinedly over the shredded leg and began to pulse healing magic into the shredded flesh.

Coupled with the efforts the night elf had already put into healing, the skin pulled together even further, filling in the gashes as it knit itself back into something resembling a whole. Sweat began to coat the draenei's forehead as he worked, and the night elf could tell the male was rapidly running out of magic to offer; when he made to try and perhaps add what strength he had to the flagging male, the draenei turned and fixed him with a glare.

"Move, and I will crush you within the bowels of the earth," the male snarled.

"Easy," he said, patting the air. "I merely wish to help you. If I wanted her dead she would be. She would be gone by now if I hadn't killed the thing attacking her and helped her myself."

The draenei was still glaring daggers, mistrust evident in his body language, but grudgingly - mockingly? - bowed and gestured for the other male to assist. With the two of them working at it, soon the gashes were partially closed, nowhere near as deep, and tender scar tissue was beginning to form at the shallowest parts. Both males fell back on their haunches...then jumped when rapid footsteps approached them.

Darae, panting heavily underneath a large leather knapsack, ran up to them and slung the pack forward.

"Darae, are you okay?" the draenei asked him.

"Is shan'do okay?" the boy replied, eying the still form of the female.

"She'll be fine," the night elf male broke in. "Get some firewood."

The boy, Darae the male supposed, looked to the draenei for confirmation; a small nod sent the boy scurrying off again.

He watched him go. "A good lad."

"Who are you?"

"I could ask you the same," the night elf wryly. "You may call me Pathora."

"I am Sevei."

"And the female? What is her name?" Pathora asked.

Sevei eyed him warily, hands on his knees. "Saliea...she is my wife."

Pathora nodded, then turned to gaze after Darae, the boy several yards away gathering fallen branches from the base of a tree. "And the boy? Your son?"

"Student."

"I thought as much."

He averted his gaze as the draenei tenderly brushed fingers over the little druid's forehead, and instead began pulling things from his pack; out first came a small copper kettle, then his canteen filled - thankfully - with water. He splashed some of it on his hands to remove what dried blood he could, then carefully poured the rest into the kettle; the kettle itself held maybe six cups of liquid, but the remaining water didn't fill it entirely, which was just as well considering he needed to add other things to it. Also out of the pack came a paring knife, with which he began to peel the earthroot and cut it into thick pieces; into the water went the earthroot when he'd cleaned it, and he began to crush the petals of the peacebloom between his palms and let the bruised petals fall into the water.

Darae returned as he was tearing the silverleaf into thin wisps, dropping to his knees with an armload of firewood, beginning to arrange it messily. Pathora frowned and sat the kettle on the ground, slapping the boy's hands away. "Move." He moved the wood onto the road and stacked it up, rummaging around in his backpack until he found his little box with flint and steel, as well as a bit of tinder he hadn't remembered saving. Arranging it all, he struck sparks until the tinder caught, then blew the smoking pile until he had a small blaze going; he settled the kettle on the wood to let the water boil and sat back on his haunches, cocking his head as he once again felt the earth vibrate under his feet.

"Someone is coming."

Sevei placed a hand on the road and closed his eyes a moment. "...it is a single rider, on a mount without hooves." His eyes opened and he looked at the male. "I have a feeling I know exactly who it is."

"Do tell?"

"The Archdruid."

Pathora chuckled. "Excellent, if it is true. Most excellent."

They waited in silence, Pathora occasionally checking the temperature of the water in between staring up the road; finally, a black nightsaber bearing a single rider rushed up to them, another night elf male dismounting and raising his hand toward Pathora.

"Now wait a moment-" he said, holding up an arm like he was about to block a blow.

Instead of a blow the grass itself under him twisted and grew, twining around arms and legs and dragging the male to the ground face first. He tried pushing himself up and the plants shifted, pinning his arms to his side and pulling his legs together; the night elf sighed heavily and craned his neck, lifting his face from the dirt a moment before letting his forehead drop back to the ground with another sigh.

Staghelm looked from Pathora to the still form of Saliea on the ground by a kneeling Sevei, then stepped over the prone form of the night elf and purposely approached the other two.

"What happened here?"

"This is not my day," Pathora muttered into ground, causing Sevei and Fandral to look back at him.

"He saved Saliea, apparently," Sevei said slowly.

"My patience wears thin," the trapped night elf went on. "I'm no threat, and in fact I was traveling to speak with the Archdruid. Fortunate you have come to me...you have twenty seconds to release me from this spell."

"Or you'll do what?" Fandral snapped, eyes narrowing.

Pathora raised his head again, blindfolded gaze finding Fandral's own. "This." The elf grunted and flexed, straining a few long moments. With a rattling series of cracks, the grass wrapped around the male broke apart like unraveling rope; frowning he sat up, brushing the remains of the grass off him, eying Staghelm. "I'd advise you not to do that again."

"Who are you?" Fandral growled, hands slowly clenching into fists at his sides.

Pathora slowly reached up and grasped his chin, yanking down firmly. With a soft click his entire lower half of his face came away; silently the night elf sat the half-mask on the grass, revealing a jaw with a scruffy beard and a jagged scar running from just above the right corner of his mouth down to end just under his chin. His blindfold remained firmly on and he scratched idly at his beard, his skin tingling as the air contacted it.

Fandral actually looked mildly surprised. "Pathora the Blind Fighter. You are said to be a myth."

"A rumor started through my own actions," Pathora said, smiling faintly.

"Are you really the Blind Fighter?" came a small voice from the base of the tree. Darae had tucked himself against the base of the trunk, Sevei's talbuk nibbling at the bark just above his head; he wrapped his arms around his knees, tugging them close to his chest. "My da used to tell me stories about you, about how you slew thousands of demons and black dragons and all sorts of monsters."

Pathora stroked a finger down his scar. "A visible reminder of the black, this." He shuffled across the grass and seized his weapon, standing and swinging it over his head, easily wielding the sword with one hand, a massive length of polished metal with the blade easily measuring five feet at least. He rested the tip on the ground and rested his wrists across the hilt, revealing a groove in the blade just above it; turning, Pathora showed his back, an odd mechanical clip strapped there with leather bindings that disappeared under his plate armor.

He slapped the blade across his back, the grooves snapping neatly into the clip and securing the sword, then swept into a deep bow. Darae smiled shyly, then it faded as he hunched in on himself, eying Saliea as Fandral turned from the warrior and instead bent over the druid. The Archdruid's hands glowed brightly, and under his ministrations the remaining wounds healed like they'd never been there; he quickly looked over the rest of her, gently pushing aside scraps of torn armor to ensure he'd closed all wounds, then bent over her head.

"Her throat is badly bruised."

"She was being throttled when I found her," Pathora said quietly. "Throttled and dragged."

Fandral turned around abruptly. "By what? Is it still in the area?" he asked sharply.

"Oh, it's still here. In several pieces, mind you, but here." The night elf gestured. "Off that way."

"Go look for it," Fandral ordered, looking at Sevei. "The more we understand about what just happened the better prepared we can be in the future."

Sevei stared at his unconscious wife for several minutes, until Staghelm cleared his throat; reluctantly the draenei got up and hurried off in the direction Pathora had pointed. Unnoticed by any of the adults, the small shadow that was Darae unfolded himself from where he sat and slipped after him.

With the draenei gone, Pathora moved closer to the Archdruid - and Saliea - and Fandral faced him, fixing him with a stern enough glare that the other male froze where he was.

"What are you doing here? You should have stayed a myth, a children's bedtime tale of reckless heroics."

"I came to speak with you. Well, not you specifically, just whomever was Archdruid. Amazing you've managed to hold onto the title for so long, I would have thought someone would have killed you by now," Pathora said dryly. "I have not stepped foot in night elven lands for a very long time."

"If you wished to speak with me, why are you out here?"

"I had my reasons for not approaching Darnassus immediately," Pathora said quietly, sightless gaze on the ground. He stayed way a moment, then sighed as he unclipped his sword and laid it out in the grass before squatting on his heels. "It's not a matter to discuss in the open. And besides. The girl would be dead had I not been 'out here.'"

Staghelm's glare softened some and he once again bent over Saliea, glare softening even further into something one could mistake as tenderness. "I am...thankful you saved her."

Pathora merely nodded, then his head snapped up as a faint, strangled cry reached his ears. "Stay here," he said sharply, grabbing his sword as he sprang to his feet and darted off between the trees.

* * *

Sevei bent to the ground, eyes glowing, and lightly traced his fingers over a seemingly random patch of grass; to anyone else there was nothing there, but to Sevei's enhanced gaze the imprints from Pathora's boots stood out like a lit pathway, spattered with drops of blood he guessed belonged to Saliea. He straightened and hurried, staying to one side of the prints, retracing the other male's footsteps until the blood began to pool in bigger clumps, and then he found the first..._part _of the killed creature.

Or what he assumed was part of whatever it was Pathora had slain. In a pile of black sludge lay the severed shoulder joint and attached arm of something humanoid; steeling his stomach, for the smell of it was decidedly foul and rotten, he reached down and began to smear away the black crud. Skin a violet hue stood out in stark contrast to the gunk it lay in, and Sevei swallowed hard against a sudden surge of dread.

He let the arm fall back into the sludge and stood, eyes picking out where other severed parts lay; there were three more and the next he approached was the torso of a female in tattered clothing. The feeling of dread intensified.

'Did he lie? Did he slaughter a woman? I see no monster here,' he thought to himself, wiping his hands clean of the clinging gunk and looking around further. He picked out signs of where something had been dragged, and recalled Pathora commenting Saliea had been dragged, and followed the flattened grass back to find a whole body covered in black sludge.

Sevei dropped to his knees and grimly began to dig through it, searching by touch instead of by sight through the grisly mess. Finally he found what he believed was the head and hauled the body free, pulling it onto clean grass and flipping it face up.

The glassy gaze of a dead night elf male stared up into the sky, hair matted into a mess around his face and neck, clad in simple wool tunic and pants. Sevei bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as he knocked more of the crud free...he had a very bad feeling about a part of the female he would find if he looked hard enough.

He really, really did not want to look, but he would need to...the slain night elves would need to be identified and returned to their families. He found the severed head, cut in two and still leaking fluid, rolled within a bush, a few spatterings of dark ooze marking where it had struck the ground; hands shaking he pulled it free, hair twining and clinging to his hands, and carefully laid it on the ground near to the male, shoving both halves together. He would gather the rest of her body in a moment, for right now his mind and his nerves were somewhat shot.

Sevei had seen bodies plenty, torn apart on battlefields, desecrated and even sometimes partially eaten, raised by demonic forces, butchered until they were hardly recognizable. He'd seen this, had even carried some of the dead back to their families, and had helped dig graves and lay the dead to rest. Never before had he seen this clinging ooze, nor could he understand what exactly had happened here; his Saliea had been attacked...but by what? By these two night elves, or had these two simply been victims of whatever had assaulted his wife.

His thoughts were interrupted by a moan from behind him. He whirled around to see Darae leaned against a tree, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

"...d-da?" he whimpered, eying the dead night elf. "Mom?"

"Darae, you shouldn't have followed me," Sevei started, but the boy didn't seem to hear him as he stumbled his way to the body and fell on the side opposite from Sevei.

"It's da, it's my da!" he shouted, voice cracking. "He's dead!"

Sevei quickly was around the dead man and pulling Darae against him, kneeling as the boy buried his face against the shaman's chest and began to cry. Sevei laid a gentle hand on the back of Darae's neck, turning so they faced away from the slain elf, and rested the other across his shoulders as the boy sobbed and shook; the draenei carefully looked over his shoulder at the head of the female, and the body of the male, then lifted his gaze to see Pathora materialize at the side of a tree from the twilight like a specter, his sword naked in his hand with the tip held just above the ground.

"It is the first time I've seen one of them slain," the night elf said quietly, returning his weapon to the clip of his back and coming forward to nudge the female's head with his toe. "It was reverting to the dark gel moments after I slew it. It would appear the female is the one I personally killed." Sevei frantically gestured for silence, pointing at the boy who still wept against him, and Pathora shook his head. "We - someone is coming."

A group of Sentinels were threading their way between the trees, mounted on panthers, led by a green-haired male clad in dark leather armor.

"Gather the dead and take them back to Darnassus," Sevei said when they were close enough.

Donnovan dismounted as the Sentinels filed around him, eyes sweeping the area. "What happened? Where is my daughter? ...and who are you?" he added, taking a few steps toward Pathora.

Pathora simply bowed. "No enemy of yours, I can assure you."

Donnovan gestured and half the Sentinels dismounted. "Gather the body - er, _bodies - _and take them back to town. The rest of you locate the Archdruid and Saliea." As the Sentinels - with a few druids mixed in, Sevei noticed - did as the rogue commanded, Donnovan himself came and knelt beside Sevei.

"Where is Fandral?"

Sevei jerked his head in the proper direction, and Donnovan gestured for the Sentinels to go. "He waits with Saliea. She's alive but unconscious."

Donnovan blew out a heavy sigh, looking relieved. "Who is that?" he asked after a moment, looking up at Pathora who still stood silently nearby.

"I am Pathora, and we should be going," came the quiet reply.

When Sevei stood he gathered Darae up in his arms; the boy silently wrapped arms around the draenei's neck, tears coursing down his face. Donnovan looked from the bodies to the boy and raised an eyebrow, to which Sevei shook his head and gave him a warning look; the rogue shrugged and simply returned to his nightsaber.

"I'm going to go find Fandral and Saliea. I'll see you back in Darnassus."

As Donnovan guided his mount away Sevei stepped out of the way of the Sentinels and turned away as they carefully prepared the dead night elves to be moved. Pathora stepped up to join him, nodding after the rogue.

"We should follow him. Or I should at least. My things are back there. Probably better to travel in a group, in case more of those...whatever they are...attack."

"You said you'd never seen one slain before," Sevei said quietly, as the two male headed off. "What did you mean by that?"

"I mean I happened to glimpse the beasts a few times-"

"You're blind."

Pathora chuckled, wedging a finger under his blindfold and shifting it slightly. "To all appearances, yes, but-" and now he turned to face Sevei, and the draenei had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being stared at, "-I have ways of seeing. But to continue on. I have spied glimpses of these things here and there, both in this world and...elsewhere. And they usually flee from me. Not sure why." He turned to 'watch' where he was walking. "It is something I came to discuss with the Archdruid."

"You'll get your audience with him, I do not doubt."

"Good. I'd hate to have to hurt anyone to get in to see him."

Sevei's expression became guarded, and Pathora didn't make any indication he'd been joking; the draenei wondered exactly who this Pathora was, and what sort of game he thought he was playing at...but he would let Staghelm sort all that out. Right now all Sevei wanted was to take Saliea home and there was Darae to consider...

The boy, if he'd been correct in identifying the male as his father, was now down to one parent...and Sevei had a sinking feeling that the slain female would prove to be the boy's mother, leaving Darae parentless. It was now incredibly important for Sevei to locate the rest of Darae's family, and quickly, for the boy needed the love and support of his kin right now. Darae was limp and quiet in his arms...in one day he'd likely lost both parents and had almost lost his teacher - and even thinking about Saliea laying so still in the grass made Sevei's stomach clench.

He quickened his pace, Pathora striding along beside him easily, and they were soon back to the others. A ring of Sentinels and a few alert druids surrounded the figures of Sal, Fandral, and Donnovan. The rogue and the Archdruid were talking silently, and Saliea still lay unconscious in the grass.

"Out of my way," Pathora sighed, pushing between two Sentinels and approaching the three. He knelt beside Saliea and carefully placed two fingers on her forehead. "Time to wake up."

His fingers flared a soft white, and as he pulled them away her eyes fluttered open - then promptly shut again with a groan.

Sevei dropped down to one knee, shifting Darae in his arms so the boy sat on his leg, freeing a hand so he could reach out and gently grasp one of hers. "Saliea..."

"S-Sevei?" Her voice was incredibly faint. "I'm not...dead?"

"Not for lack of trying," Fandral snapped, though they could hear the faintest hint of relief in it. "Must I chain you in the corner of my office?"

"I hate...to say I told you so," she whispered in response, Fandral actually turning a deep shade of purple when she attempted to grin impishly at him.

"Here."

While they had been focusing on Saliea, Pathora had returned to his little fire and checked the contents of the kettle; now he held out a steaming mug full of a liquid that had the same silvery-purple color as the silverleaf that had gone into it. Sal stared up at him like the male was crazy, and Donnovan took the mug instead and sniffed at it.

"And this would be?" the rogue asked, eying Pathora.

"It's something to help bolster her strength. Against the blood loss."

"I saw him make it," Sevei added, "nothing harmful went into it."

Donnovan helped Saliea lift her head and sip at the hot drink - snorting as the druid made a face at it.

"That is the worst thing I've ever tasted," she commented, pursing her lips.

"Mother always said if it tasted bad, it was good for you," Donnovan chuckled.

As the druid carefully drank, color began to return to her face; within an hour Sal was sitting up on her own, looking exhausted but otherwise looking better. She was halfway through her second mug of the stuff when she finally made another face of disgust and pushed the mug back into Donnovan's hands.

"No more, I feel like it'll kill more than help me," she said, resting her head in her hands.

"She should be fine to travel now," Pathora commented from where he lounged against a tree, outside the protective circle of Sentinels. "It will be a long walk, however."

"Who is that?" Saliea asked, looking from Staghelm to Donnovan to Sevei...then recognition registered in her eyes as her gaze slid down to the dejected little male still clinging to the draenei. "Darae? Is he hurt?"

Sevei gave a short shake of his head and Donnovan gave her a 'we'll tell you later' sort of look; Sal wisely fell silent and attempted to get to her feet. Her previously-mangled leg, while whole once more, refused to support all of her weight and she fell over sideways with Donnovan catching and steadying her.

"Not quite yet, you'll ride," the male said, picking up his protesting daughter and slipping through the ring of Sentinels.

"No arguments, Saliea," Fandral and Sevei said together, and with a glower the druid fell silent, allowing Donnovan to place her on the back of the nightsaber the rogue had ridden from Darnassus.

"A long walk indeed unless we double up," Donnovan commented, glancing at Staghelm from over his shoulder.

The Archdruid nodded, striding to his own nightsaber and climbing to its back; Donnovan mounted behind one of the druids standing with the Sentinels, then seemed to question himself and then quickly slung himself back to the ground. "You know what? Head back without me. I'll stay here with the others and supervise the moving of the bodies...and also see if I can tell where these things came from. You can uh...catch me up on anything later," he added, glancing sideways at Pathora, who still lay in the grass against the tree, hands clasped behind his head. The male gazed back at him with his blindfolded gaze, the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

"I will need to ride with someone as well. Unless you're wanting me to walk. In which case, I shall see you in several hours."

Fandral nodded to the same druid Donnovan had mounted behind. "Carry him." The druid bowed and pulled away from the group, guiding his feline mount over to where Pathora need only stand up and step forward to climb on.

"One moment. My things," the blind night elf said, rolling to his feet. He kicked dirt over his fire, dumped out his kettle and the mug, drying out both with a cloth pulled from his pack before stuffing all three back inside it, then swung his pack to his side and snapped his sword into its clip. He accepted the druid's helpful hand up and settled behind him, reaching around to adjust his sword so the tip rode further to one side, clear of accidentally striking the nightsaber's flank. The Sentinels mounted and the group rode off - slowly, due to Saliea's still-weakened condition - toward Darnassus.

Sevei pulled Bracas up beside Saliea and the druid looked over, her eyes falling again on Darae.

"Was he-?"

"Not now," Sevei said quietly. "Let us speak of this later."

Sal nodded, a look of incredible weariness overtaking the concern. Sevei urged his mount closer to hers, reaching out to caress a finger down her arm. "My dear, are you well enough to ride?"

She smiled, blowing out a breath and licking her lips before answering. "I'm well enough to hang on, at least. I can last until we reach home." She lifted an arm that felt like lead and grasped his hand, letting him support the weight of her hand out of exhaustion a moment later. He applied gentle pressure to her fingers then released them; they traveled the rest of the way to Darnassus in silence.

Immediately through the gates Fandral ordered Sevei to take Saliea back to their home - and also ordered the Sentinels and druids with them to accompany the couple and form a guard around the little dwelling.

"Go home and rest, I shall call upon you later," the Archdruid said, eying Saliea.

She nodded and left without complaint, one of Fandral's druids assisting her inside the home once they'd gotten there as Sevei still carried Darae. Sal allowed the druid to help her hobble inside to the bedroom, then irritably waved him away; Sevei didn't go any further than the living room, carefully settling Darae on his cot and kneeling beside him.

He wanted to say something, to do something, to offer some sort of comfort to the boy, but was at a loss as to what to do. If Darae's father was, in fact, the slain night elf, then that left the question of where his mother had gone...and Darae had seemed pretty convinced that the female was his mother. There was no telling, not right now, not until the bodies had been identified, but Sevei truthfully did not want to hear who the night elves were regardless of whether it meant Darae was orphaned or not.

Upon being laid on his cot Darae immediately curled into a little ball and put his back to the draenei; Sevei could see the boy begin to shake and knew the boy had begun to cry again. Feeling incredibly helpless Sevei merely pulled a blanket over the boy and sighed as Darae curled in on himself even tighter.

"Sevei...?"

At Sal's soft inquiry he stood and, first looking down a few breaths more at Darae, quietly walked in and sat beside her on their bed.

She was slowly inching her way out of her ruined pants, hissing as each movement stretched too-new skin. The padded cloth armor she wore beneath the leather was history as well, but those had only come down to just below her knees so she imagined that they would be somewhat salvageable, unlike the leather pants that were simply too shredded to be of any further use beyond using them to patch holes. Sevei made a gesture like he meant to help her remove them and normally she would have had a teasing remark ready for him, but her exhaustion coupled with her pain simply made her lay back and let him slip the rest of the ruined armor off her, until she lay in her torn padded undergarments on her back in the bed.

"How do you feel, my love?"

"Downright horrible," she replied, closing her eyes. "With rest I'll be fine though...what ails Darae? Those things didn't hurt him, did they?"

Sevei hesitated, grasping at the air like he was trying to pull his words from it. "I...when Lord Staghelm sent me to locate the creatures, I came instead upon some bodies. They were...night elves. One male, one female...and Darae had followed me."

"Oh no," she breathed, opening her eyes and struggling to sit up. "What happened?"

"He saw them, and was convinced the male was his father."

He reached out and pulled her into a sitting position, then pulling her into his embrace, stroking her hair. "He has been silent since then. I am at a loss as to what to do. How do you comfort someone after a shock like that?"

"He should have obeyed my order to run," Sal whispered, sliding arms around his waist and snuggling into his chest.

"I wish he had not followed me at the very least." Sevei closed his eyes and rested his chin on top of her head. "Sal...he also seems to believe that the female...was his mother."

She clenched her hands into fists, shaking her head as she closed her eyes again.

"I-I think I need to rest."

He kissed her forehead and laid her back against the pillows, two urges warring inside him: curl up and rest with her, or keep an eye on Darae? In the end he settled on silently sitting in a chair that he pulled to the far side of the living room, where he could see both the sleeping figure of his wife and the tiny ball of misery that was Darae on his cot curled beneath his blanket. Sevei found his fists slowly clenching, digging into the fabric of the chair beneath him, and fell into a partial meditative trance to rid himself of the sudden surge of rage he felt. Whatever had done this was going to pay.

He would make certain of it.

* * *

The nightmare was so vivid she swore, even as she awakened and bolted upright in bed to stare wildly at an empty room, that she could still feel claws in her hair and hot, rank breath in her face as a multitude of snake beasts dragged her off to slaughter her like a sheep.

Tal'Thera wrapped arms around herself and shook, silently weeping. There was nothing in her room - not even a guard - and yet she couldn't shake the lingering fear of the dream that made the walls seem to press in on her.

She swung her feet out of the tangle of sheets and slid them to the floor beside her bed, reaching for a light robe to tug on over her nightdress. Belting it securely she tiptoed to her bedroom door and slipped out, plagued with the oddest feeling of being unable to breathe; she wiped her eyes repeatedly as further tears fell - thankfully no guard approached her to ask what was wrong - and silently she reached the door to her balcony and raised shaking hands to unlock it.

She was surprised to see it was already unlocked, and carefully she pushed it open; there was a person standing on the balcony, leaning on the rail. Her eyes began adjusting to the light difference even as cool, rain-drenched air reached her and she inhaled the fresh air deeply as the cooler air began to dry her cheeks, squinting at whomever it was on her balcony. Stepping outside - the wet stone of her balcony chilling the soles of her bare feet - she finally saw it was Mikael, and that he wasn't alone.

Sneak Thief balanced on the railing near him, insistently butting her head against his hands and shoulder. The human - clad in his full black armor, and with his disguising necklace hidden out of sight - was ignoring the cat despite the butting and the occasional vocal protest. Tal'Thera stepped back through the door, peeking out with the door opened a crack, some childish part of her pushing passed the fear and waiting, because she knew exactly what was about to come.

Sure enough Sneak Thief sat on her haunches and laid her ears back, glaring at him, and a moment later the cat lifted up on her hind legs and batted a paw twice across his face, hitting chin then nose.

Mikael jumped back with a startled grunt. "_Hey!"_

Tal'Thera clapped a hand to her mouth too late to stifle the giggling and he spun around looking highly embarrassed.

"_How long were you standing there?"_

_ "Not very," _she said, still smiling as she stepped back outside once more and gave her eyes one final wipe. "_She's very insistent when she wants attention."_

_ "I noticed," _he said said dryly, rubbing a hand across his chin. "..._have you been crying?"_

She sighed and merely shook her head; it was nothing to trouble him with after all, and besides if he could tell from there that she'd been crying there was little point in lying about it anyhow. She felt his eyes on her as she padded across the balcony and came up to the rail, hands reaching out to stroke Sneak Thief who eagerly accepted the attention and began purring loudly. Mikael leaned back against the rail, close enough for her to touch, and she felt a light blush come to her face along with a feeling of foolishness; here she was, barely dressed and barefoot in full view of the guards both inside and outside...

She jumped as his arm reached in front of her, his fingers scratching across the cat's back; Sneak Thief turned and moved her head under those fingers, arching her back under Tal'Thera's now-slack hand. She was very aware of the nearness of the human, swearing she could feel the heat coming off his body but that was a likely imaginative thought; here against the railing she could feel the wind and smell the recent rain, and could sense like an oncoming headache the heaviness to the air that heralded another storm on the way. Her feet were beginning to grow cold as was her back as the wind blew around them and swirled around to come at them from behind, cutting through the thin robe she wore; the temperature was dropping, they were in for a bad storm no doubt about that.

"_Why are you out here?" _she asked, placing her hands on the rail while Mikael continued to pet Sneak Thief.

He nodded to the sky, pointing out and to their left; she followed his gaze in time to see a bolt of lightning cut across the sky, highlighting the roiling clouds above and deepening the shadows below in the Bazaar for a split instant.

"_I couldn't sleep, storm woke me up, so I've been out here watching the show."_

She blinked hazy after-images from her eyes and nodded. "_I've watched lightning before...it can be quite spectacular."_

_ "Why are you awake? Why were you crying?" _he asked.

She opened her mouth then closed it, opened it then closed it again, then simply shook her head. It was a stupid thing that had brought her out here anyhow, and besides she felt her fear had subsided enough. She shivered and drew her robe closer as the wind gusted again, and he looked at her in concern.

"_We should go inside if you're cold."_

_ "No, I'm fine. It's only the wind," _she said, shaking her head again. "_I just need some fresh air is all."_

_ "Well, you won't get any fresher than that after a rain...would look like we're in for more however, unless the wind blows the storm over us before it breaks," _he said, looking to the sky again. "_I think we're going to get dumped on though, wind or not."_

She nodded and leaned on the railing like he was, shivering again. He again looked at her, and she saw him biting at his lower lip, like he was...nervous?

A surge of anxiety paralyzed her when he stepped close, stepped behind her and put an arm on the railing on either side of her; she spun around to put her back to him, feeling faint and blushing, fighting to keep her breathing even.

"_I'll block the wind," _she heard him say quietly, "_if you won't go inside."_

_ "The guards will kill you for being this close," _she whispered.

"_They haven't yet, so I'm guessing it's okay."_

The absurdness of the comment made her laugh. Why was it getting so hard to be around him?

"_Are you going to tell me why you were crying?"_

She sighed at his question, both embarrassed that she had been and...rather touched that he cared at all.

"_It was a nightmare, nothing more," _she finally said. "_I dreamt of those creatures, and could not stand to be in my room when I woke."_

_ "I see."_

That was all he said. 'I see.' She stared at his arms on either side of her, followed them down to where his hands rested lightly on the rail - he wasn't leaning on them, so he must have been trying to keep what distance he could while being a sufficient wind block. The blood elf went to rest her own hands on the rail, but was thwarted by Sneak Thief who now stood on hind legs and put tiny cold cat feet on Mikael's arm, meowing loudly for further attention.

Tal'Thera reached out and tickled the cat under her chin, and against her better judgment rested her free hand over Mikael's; she could feel him tense under her, and could almost picture him glancing into the shadows, warily awaiting someone springing out to cut the offending appendage off.

No guards leapt out to attack him, however. Perhaps they thought he made a good decoy should another one of those things go for their mage.

After several moments had passed she felt him relax again; swallowing hard she squeezed her fingers over his.

"_How do you deal with them?"_

_ "With what?" _came his distracted reply.

She looked briefly over her shoulder to see he was staring intently at her hand on his, then turned quickly back around when she saw how close that face of his was.

"_T-the nightmares,"_ she went on, returning her attention instead to the cat, a much safer thing to dwell on at the moment. "_How do you deal with them?"_

He was silent for a very long time; Tal'Thera was just beginning to realize how numb her feet were getting on the cold, wet stone when he sighed heavily, ruffling her hair with his breath.

"_I tell myself they're not real. They have nothing to do with...no impact on how I live my daily life. They are phantoms, specters, a fancy of the mind. Nothing they do will change where you wake up in the morning, and nothing they do can hurt you."_

_ "But the fear..."_

_ "The fear is lingering, like a bad smell. It's easily forgettable if you just tell yourself it wasn't real."_

She turned to face him, tears welling up again as she once more felt clawed hands grabbing at her. "_But it was real. It was."_

The hand she wasn't holding came up to gently grasp her chin, and she found her face turned up to look into glowing green eyes that hid, she knew, bright blue ones beneath.

"_The nightmare was born of memories of that attack, that's true," _he said softly. "_But you're here now, unharmed, and I'm going to protect you from any further attacks. No further nightmares are real, okay?"_

Before he could react, and before Tal'Thera even knew what she was doing, she'd raised up on her tiptoes and slid hands up to his shoulders. She pulled him toward her just enough so she could reach to brush her lips over his. There was a moment, of two or three seconds where they stayed that way, then with an incoherent mutter Mikael pulled away, stumbling back a few steps and glancing wildly into the shadows around him.

"_I-I'm sorry, I don't...I don't know why I did that," _she said hurriedly.

She pulled her robe tighter around her and darted passed him, bare wet feet slapping loudly on her hardwood floors until she reached her bedroom and pushed the door shut behind her, then threw herself on her bed and curled into a ball.

What in the world had possessed her to do that? It was a question she was all but screaming at herself as she wrapped herself into her blankets and began to shake uncontrollably, her wet cold feet the last thing on her mind.

'What is he going to think? How will I face him tomorrow?' she moaned to herself.

And yet she recalled in agonizing detail the feel of lips on her, the strength in his shoulders beneath her fingertips. She remembered too the dream of him climbing into bed behind her, and the scent of a male body on her pillows, and all of it together made her stomach clench and brought heat to her face.

Leaning back into her pillows she tucked the blanket in tighter around her and stared at her ceiling. What was she going to do now?

And a more pressing question: what sort of trouble had she just gotten the man into?

* * *

When guards did not immediately leap out to slaughter him for even daring to lay a hand on a female of their race, Mikael only thought that they were waiting for her to leave so there would be no witnesses who cared about what happened to a single male human far from his own home and people.

When Tal'Thera ran inside, and still no one stepped out to kill him, or even offer him harm, Mikael felt like the iron jaws of a trap were poised, ready to snap shut on him and seal his doom.

When he ran fingers over his lips, and inhaled and smelled the scent of peacebloom still in his nose, he stood still and shut his eyes and tried to sort through the confusion. His stomach was tensed and he focused first on unknotting that, then moved on to convincing his other muscles that attack wasn't likely - and even if it was he'd react better if he were relaxed rather than all frozen up.

Slowly he sank into a chair at the little table, ignoring the cold wet that seeped into the seat of his pants. What had just happened?

He'd been kissed, that much he knew - by the _Light _he recalled that with crystal clarity - but his brain had seemed to simply shut off a split instant after the fact. There was contact, there was his mind completely deserting him, and then came the confusion.

There was an urge there, previously buried deep, that had wanted to respond in kind to the female...had wanted another taste and had lit parts of him up like never before. In all the years he'd been alive, females had never really been much of an issue with him - Saliea had been the first he'd looked on and lusted after, but that was all it had been, he'd learned after a while: lust. His father was mistaken when, on those few occasions Saliea came up in conversation, he had believed Mikael still loved the little druid. Well...Mikael _did, _but not in the sense everyone believed.

He was certain that, had he actually remained in her presence and she had returned his amorous feelings in kind, that the story would quite different now. He may very well be married to her, and be the father of the children she was now expecting, but they'd spent a few years apart with their only regular contact being all those letters. He'd seen her in person every now and then, whenever she and Sevei had traveled nearby, but that was it. So much time apart had caused feelings to fade, even the ridiculous hope that the night elf would leave the draenei and instead come to love Mikael, and it WAS a ridiculous hope as he'd seen personally the way she looked at the shaman, and he at her. There was a love there he had no hope of understanding, and no chance of changing or breaking.

There was a fondness he felt whenever he thought of her, but he could honestly say that was the extent of things - simple fondness. He wouldn't know what to do if she actually came to declare her love for him, because he knew he didn't - and probably couldn't - love her back, not now.

This was a truth he had learned about himself in the time since he'd returned to Stormwind, and to his father...and the truth was he was pathetically inexperienced when it came to females, and had no explanation nor name for the emotions running around in his head like crazed cattle.

Another emotion battling for attention, one that he DID have a name for, was fear. What was going to happen to him now? Again he looked to the shadows, and up to the roof, eyes probing the darkness for any sign of the elusive guards he knew to be watching the little apartment.

A little voice in his head was sarcastically remarking on whether he'd be executed for kissing Tal'Thera or for not appearing to enjoy being kissed.

Now what?

* * *

Instead of settling himself in a chair, as Fandral indicated, Pathora paced across the empty floor in front of the druid's desk. They were alone in Fandral's office except for five druids all standing guard over their Archdruid.

Fandral, stern as ever, dropped into his chair and watched the other male pace. After several minutes Staghelm impatiently gestured to the druids; silently, and a touch reluctantly, they left the room.

"Shut the door," Fandral ordered.

Pathora did so, smiling wryly. "You would do well to remember I am not one of your own to order around."

"Then kindly explain who you are," Staghelm said through clenched teeth. "I am rather inclined to have you imprisoned, as appearing with my badly injured - as appearing with one of my druids is suspicious," he said, pausing a moment midway through.

"I know what she is to you," Pathora said quietly. "Foster daughter, child of a priest and a rogue. Was that her father? The man with the Sentinels, I mean."

"You seem to know a lot for a blind man, myth or no," Fandral said coolly.

"I know more than you," came the reply as the other male finally went to sit down. "Much, much more than you." He unclipped his sword and leaned it against the back of the chair near where his backpack rested, then seated himself, bowing his blindfolded head. "An incredible deal more than you."

"Then by all means, share that incredible wisdom."

"Ah, sarcasm. One of the better parts of conversation I always thought," Pathora chuckled. He leaned forward, fixing Fandral with what would have been an intense gaze had his eyes been visible. "To business then. There are problems within the Emerald Dream."

"I know of this," Fandral growled. "Malfurion Stormrage has become trapped, willingly or not, within its depths."

"It's not that. It's worse. It's new." Pathora held out a hand, palm up, and flexed his fingers. "The disappearances are directly related."

Well, THAT seemed to take the Archdruid by surprise. "How much do you know of the disappearances?"

"Enough to know what is causing them."

Fandral came forward, palms slapping down on his desk as he leaned forward. "What? What is causing them?"

Pathora smiled and shook his head. "First, some information." He opened and closed the hand that he held out, and a moment later a bright green light appeared in his palm. "The Emerald Dream is where all things go when they sleep. It is where dreams come from. Dreams have a power all their own, you know. It is a power unknown to many. Few know the depth of it, where it comes from or why. It is both a part of and completely separate from the Emerald Dream, in a sense."

The green light began to pulse gently. "When someone sleeps, their mind contacts the Dream. It is natural, everyone does it, but no one will ever remember it. Not unless they are a druid and permitted to walk the Dream in an unnatural dreaming state. Which is what druids do. It is how they sleep for so long - it is unnatural to anyone but them." Now the light darkened, taking on a black-blue hue. "The Nightmare is a familiar foe to druids walking the Emerald Dream. It exists always within the Dream. Always moving. Never stationary."

Pathora clenched his fist and the light disappeared. "It is large, but there is a smaller piece of it that has become separate. It has become stationary. Someone is drawing power from the Nightmare."

The expression on Fandral's face was unreadable, but the Archdruid made a strangled noise like he was clearing his throat and sat back. "The Nightmare has...ceased moving?"

"Yes."

"How long ago?"

"How long ago did the disappearances begin occurring?" Pathora countered. "That is the simple explanation. Things are far more complex than that. I came to you seeking a trusted druid."

"Why?" was all Fandral could ask.

Pathora smiled, a look that was grim at best. "Because. Whatever has forced the fragment of the Nightmare to be stationary has also targeted the green dragons. Those within the Dream are trapped within. Those without are trapped outside."

"Impossible," Fandral snapped. "No one could possibly stop a green dragon from entering and leaving the Emerald Dream. That is the base of their very essence, their very reason for existing. Severing a green dragon from the Emerald Dream would be akin to killing them."

The look on Pathora's face blanked. "It is like that, yes. Very much like that," he said softly. "Death or no, it is the worst possible fate for a green. They are custodians of the Emerald Dream. Being severed from their duties - and the wondrous queen She of the Dreaming - is unbearable for all but the strongest...of their kind," Pathora went on. His head drooped to his chest. "A green cannot walk the Dream any longer. People who slip into innocent sleep are being intercepted and separated from their bodies. Their bodies are snatched and turned into those horrific creatures that assaulted your foster daughter." Pathora leaned to the side, hand dipping into his backpack; a moment later he came up with his little half-mask, and held it up to his face. "Many know me as this. A masked fighter. His sword cleaving enemies. He defeats evil and then disappears into history. A myth, as you once called me."

Pathora shoved upward, sliding the edges of his mask under his blindfold; there was a loud click and he pulled his hand away, the mask staying and hiding the bearded face beneath it. In the light of Fandral's office it appeared to actually be made of bone, the offwhite color causing the pure white of the blindfold to stand out. It was incredibly smooth except for the carved lips that were open in a snarl, revealing thin rows of teeth.

This Pathora gestured at, then reached up to remove it again.

"Many know that face as mine. I am far more," he said softly. "I require a trusted druid. Someone fearless. I need them to walk the Dream for me and see how bad things are on the other side."

"Who are you?" Staghelm whispered.

Pathora simply smiled. "I require a druid."


	9. Chapter 9

He stayed sitting on the balcony with only Sneak Thief for company until it began to rain again, the drops coming down hard and fast and forcing him to retreat inside, the cat darting off over the side of the balcony into the night. As he locked the door behind him - and became aware his backside was rather wet - he came face to face with a helmeted male guard.

"_What did you do?"_

_ "Nothing," _Mikael said quickly, recognizing the male Logane's voice. He stepped back, putting his back against the door, to give himself some space to...do something, anything, to defend himself...should the guard attack him.

Logane glared at him. "_Tal'Thera came tearing through here like she was terrified. What did you do? If you harmed her..."_

_ "I didn't do anything, she had a nightmare," _Mikael snapped in reply. "_She came out to talk to me, that's all."_

_ "You lie."_

_ "All right, look," _Mikael growled, stepping to close the distance between them and jabbing a finger into the unmoving guard's chest. "_I am tired, really tired, of trying to convince you all I don't mean any harm. I wouldn't even be here if Thrall hadn't sent me. If you don't trust me, you don't trust Thrall's judgment, and I'll real sure he'd like to hear that." _He pulled back and jabbed again. "_If I wanted any of you dead, you would be. I'm not one for sneaking around, I've learned what happens when you don't tell the truth. I've seen the harm that can befall the ones you love when you hide things..." _

His mind flashed on the events of five years ago, and the pain of that night in Telaar when Saliea had been ripped from them...Datavian would have never targeted her had she not been associated with him, and perhaps if he'd been truthful he could have protected her better...

He jerked back to reality to see Logane studying him, for once an expression other than distrust on his face. "_What?"_

_ "Who did you lose then to your lies?"_

_ "Not my lies," _Mikael said quietly, dropping his gaze to the floor. "_My brother's lies." _He lifted his gaze after a moment. "_And it's none of your business."_

To Mikael's surprise, Logane merely nodded, then turned to look toward the sitting room; Mikael looked down and, just inside the doorway and for a short distance afterward, he could see outlines of where Tal'Thera had stepped with her wet feet.

"_Come."_

Logane was looking at him expectantly, and Mikael returned the look with one of confusion.

"_What? Why?"_

_ "I am going to show you the wards we have placed here, and how they work." _He turned smartly on his heel and strode off toward the sitting room.

Mikael stood in stunned silence, staring after him. Was this a show of...trust? After a moment he twitched, shook his head, and hurried after the blood elf. When he emerged into the sitting room Logane was waiting on him, and gestured toward the doorway that led downstairs...then paused and gave Mikael an odd look.

"_Do you always walk about without a weapon?"_

Mikael cleared his throat and nodded toward Tal'Thera's workshop. "_My weapon is the only reason I'm here...I do well enough without it if I rely on my magic abilities, though...admittedly, I'm trying not to."_

_ "You are no mere spellcaster then?_

_ "Uh, no...battlecaster, more or less."_

Now it was Logane's turn to look surprised. "_B-battlecaster, you say?"_

_ "Yes, and I nearly killed myself by pushing too hard. I know my limits now." _Mikael suppressed a grimace at the lie – if they hadn't asked him about the markings down his back by now, he certainly wasn't going to offer any information up on his own.

_ "I've heard of orc battlecasters, heard of their ferocity. They're dangerous not only to their foes but to themselves," _Logane said slowly, eying Mikael. "_You are...trained?"_

_ "Self-trained. If you're hoping for me to explode from magical forces I wouldn't hold your breath over it." _Well...he wouldn't be in any danger of that _now..._

Logane shook his head and muttered something that sounded like 'foolish crazy human' and turned again. "_Whatever. Come, I shall-"_

They both paused as they heard the click of an opening door, and glanced over to see Tal'Thera step out of her bedroom. She was fully clothed in lavender robes trimmed with white silk, with a wide white silk belt and the hints of black slippers just poking from beneath the hem. She appeared genuinely surprised to see the two of them standing together.

"_My lady," _Logane said formally, bowing deeply. "_Are you well?"_

She nodded speechlessly, trying hard not to stare at Mikael and failing miserably; they made eye contact and held it a few seconds, then the mage turned her gaze to the floor and blushed brightly.

"_I-I will be in my workshop, should you require me," _she whispered, voice barely a squeak. Her face turned a darker shade of red when she realized that to get to her workshop she needed to walk closer to the two males standing there looking at her. Inhaling deeply and keeping her gaze on the floor, she quickly walked from her bedroom door toward her workshop.

And halfway there, the world went silent.

Logane jerked, hand going for the sword on his belt, his mouth forming the words 'the wards!' as he drew his weapon. Tal'Thera looked terrified, eyes widening as a hand flew to her mouth, speaking but unable to hear herself; Mikael dove immediately for her and pulled her to him, spinning her to stand at his back as suddenly the shadows in the hallway behind her writhed and came alive.

One of the snake beasts stepped from the darkness and lunged; Mikael didn't hesitate to blast it with the eldritch blast of energy he knew from the last attack worked with devastating results, thrusting his hand out and summoning as much power as he could behind it. In fact, he honestly thought he'd overdone it, for the snake creature was blown backwards in a spray of blood, through the wall in a shower of debris; Mikael stared down at his hand blankly, blinking at it then up at the large hole in the wall.

"_Whoops..."_

_ "We can hear!" _Logane shouted, and Mikael was suddenly aware the room was bristling with guards. "_The beast is slain!"_

Mikael turned, raising an arm to lift it up and over Tal'Thera's head to pull her into his chest. "_I overdid it, I thi-" _and while he continued speaking again the room went silent.

'Another one?!' he thought, glancing around wildly. He quickly began to eye the shadows as the ring of blood elf guards tightened around them; he felt Tal'Thera push herself closer, burying her face against him as she began to shake. He tightened his grip on her, raising his free hand to hopefully react quick enough to blast the second creature, for there HAD to be another one to explain the utter sound deprivation.

Logane was making complex hand gestures, signaling to those around him, when his own shadow beneath his feet solidified and lifted up; the blood elf wore an expression of mixed alarm and horror as he was wrapped in living shadow that turned into another of the reptilian beasts.

Mikael didn't look back, merely swept Tal'Thera off her feet and into the crook of an arm as he darted the only safe direction he had open to him: back down the hallway toward the two bedrooms. He all but kicked in the door to his room, bending to scoop up something off the top off his backpack and dump it on his bed. All Tal'Thera saw was what looked like a pile of feathers fall from what she realized was a cloth sack; Mikael's hand scooped _something _up from the bed but there were still feathers sitting on the bed once he'd straightened.

He shifted the mage so she was tucked in against his hip, and stuck whatever he'd picked up into his belt on the opposite side, then swiped one of the feathers from the bed. She watched in confusion as he steadied it on his palm, then blew it from his hand; it floated into the air, then circled around to adhere to his forehead and disappear.

'I really hope Meraka knew what she was doing,' he thought grimly to himself as he turned to the window of his room, extending a hand and casting. The window blew out noiselessly, and Mikael felt Tal'Thera dig her fingers into his side where she grasped him as he took two steps and dove headlong out the busted window.

Instead of plummeting they fell slowly, landing in a pile of broken glass far below on dead, scorched soil - and Mikael laughed in relief when he heard the glass crunch beneath his boots.

"_Oh thank the Light," _he breathed.

Tal'Thera clung to him, eyes squeezed shut and stiff like she'd been frozen to his side; she stayed that way even when he let go of her so he could use both hands to cast. With a blast of hot air his dreadsteed appeared and pawed at the earth, snorting and glaring at them balefully.

"_Mikael..." _Tal'Thera finally said in a tiny voice.

"_We're safe, we're safe now."_

_ "We're in the Scar...there are undead here!"_

_ "I'd rather have undead than something that's unaffected by half the spells I know," _he said quickly, prying her from his side and swinging her up to place her on the back of the dreadsteed. "_We'll run straight out and let the guards worry about the-"_

His words were interrupted when they heard a strangled scream, followed by a dark object flying out of the hole Mikael had put in the wall.

"_By the sun no!" _Tal'Thera shrieked from where she clung to the back of the flaming mount.

Logane spun through the air, leaving a trail of blood behind him, and hit the ground with a bone-shattering thud.

Mikael gripped Tal'Thera's leg and shook it until she tore her eyes from the sight of the guard and looked back down to him, terror in her eyes.

"_Listen to me! If you see any, and I mean any, of those beasts, run! I don't care where, and don't worry about me, just go!" _he said, spinning from her and running for where Logane lay on the ground, unmoving.

He skidded to his knees at the blood elf's side, and could hear sounds of struggle from above him in the apartment as he bent over the guard and grit his teeth when he took in his injuries. The blood elf's right arm was severed just below the elbow and pumped blood to the bare dirt beneath him; Logane had landed hard but appeared to have tried to break his fall and in the process probably broke his leg. The guard's eyes were glazed in shock, his face rapidly paling, and Mikael swore.

"_Come on, damn it, don't die where Tal'Thera can see you..." _he snarled. Mikael's hands went to his belt, mentally lamenting what he was about to do but not seeing any alternative.

He pulled from the small of his back a pewter flask which was full of a bright red liquid that glowed faintly when he unscrewed the lid; Mikael stuck an arm behind Logane's head and lifted, holding the flask to the blood elf's mouth.

"_Drink and don't argue," _he ordered.

Logane appeared too dazed and in pain to protest, choking down the red liquid as Mikael tipped his final potion down the guard's throat. Part of the warlock was still groaning over the fact that he was dumping an incredibly valuable alchemical creation into the mouth of what would otherwise be his enemy, but he was further arguing to himself that he couldn't let someone Tal'Thera knew perish right in front of her.

He paused as Logane coughed and choked, but he seemed to be becoming more aware of his surroundings, groaning a moment later - the first sound the guard had made since the scream before he fell. Mikael was beginning to have second thoughts about the potion - at least previously Logane had appeared too dazed to recognize or show any outward signs of pain - but it was far too late to worry about that now. Logane's ashen, waxy look began to fade as the potion strengthened him and brought him away from the edge of death, but now Mikael was out of potion and Logane needed the attention of a healer immediately.

"_Don't you die on me, not now," _the warlock growled, seizing Logane's good arm and tugging the blood elf into a sitting position. He ignored the guard's pained cry as he pulled further and threw Logane's arm over his shoulder, hauling the blood elf up and into a standing position.

The blood elf sagged against him, keeping all weight off the leg Mikael suspected was broken, and Mikael began to carry him in the direction of Tal'Thera and the dreadsteed. Logane's feet dragged and he was heavier than Mikael would have thought, but suddenly Tal'Thera was nudging the dreadsteed up beside them.

"_Is he dead?" _she asked, her voice high, bordering on hysterical.

"_No, but he needs help that I can't give him," _Mikael replied. At Mikael's mental command the dreadsteed dimmed the flames across its back, and he lifted Logane - with a bit of difficulty, as the blood elf was essentially dead weight and awkward to handle - and slung the elf across the dreadsteed in front of Tal'Thera. "_Where can we go? He needs a healer."_

_ "T-the gate to the city, around the wall to the south and east," _she stammered. "_What if more beasts attack?"_

_ "They won't get the chance," _Mikael said quickly. He looked southeast, chewing on his lower lip - his dreadsteed wouldn't carry three. "_Run for the gate, I'll be right behind you. I'll slow them down if they follow."_

_ "What?" _she gasped, looking at him like he was crazy. "_I can't leave without you! Please! Don't leave me alone!"_

_ "My mount can't carry us all, and Logane needs help! I'll be running behind you, just _go!"

He slapped the dreadsteed's rump and mentally ordered the demonic mount to run; Tal'Thera's denial faded on the wind as the flaming horse disappeared quickly into the distance, even as Mikael began to run along in its wake. So far there was no sign of any pursuing creatures, but that didn't mean they weren't there...

Several times as he ran undead rose from the dead earth and reached for him, but he either destroyed them or raced away out of their reach; the levitation spell apparently wouldn't help make him lighter as he ran, and his throat was beginning to burn as the tops of trees came into view. Ruined trees with twisted roots and rocks jutting up from the ground nearly tripped him up more than once, as his attention was behind him more often than it was in front of him, but he stumbled his way beyond obstacles the best he could and remained on his feet, and no sooner had he noticed the trees than he saw the glowing speck that had to be his dreadsteed, and it appeared to be coming back at him.

Tal'Thera pulled up just in front of him a moment later, eyes wide with fear. "_The way is blocked! The wall has collapsed and they have not cleared it away yet!"_

Mikael looked beyond her and could see the outline of tumbled stone, the shattered wall just rising at the edge of his line of sight._ "So we're stuck down in here?" _Mikael panted, leaning over and resting his hands on his knees as he tried catching his breath. "_Wonderful...well. We're away from the monsters at least, I can handle skeletons no problem."_

Logane groaned softly from where he laid across the dreadsteed, and Mikael reached up and pulled him down and slung his arm over his shoulder to support him. "_We need to get Logane some help though."_

He carefully lowered the blood elf to the ground and leaned him against a charred stump, far enough away that they wouldn't get stepped on by the demonic horse, and examined the stump of the elf's arm. It was a clean enough bite at least, as the arm had actually separated at the elbow, but the blood elf was beginning to take on an ashen appearance again. Mikael searched himself and didn't find anything that he could use to help the blood elf - after all, he had forced his only means of healing down the male's throat already.

Well, he knew of _one _way he might still be able to save Logane's life. His stomach turned over at the thought of it, but if it came to saving Logane, or letting the man bleed to death...

Now Mikael searched Logane's pockets and belt, coming up with some coin - which he returned as he had no use for it - and a small hunting knife in a leather sheath. This he grabbed and pulled from the blood elf's belt, looking from the knife to Logane's arm, starting to feel queasy.

"_Tal'Thera, I need some of your robes," _he said faintly, glancing around on the ground, shuffling his fingers through the dirt. If there were undead here, there were...

He leaned back in triumph, a humerus partially unearthed beneath his fingertips; he pried at it, finally dislodging it from the earth and knocking clumps of soil off it. "_Tal'Thera?"_

She had slid down beside him, and he could see her swallow hard as she knelt, pressing herself in close. The mage was shaking and she was crying, and flinched when she looked at the bone grasped in his hands.

"_W-what do you need?"_

_ "A length of your robes, quick!"_

Hands still shaking badly, Tal'Thera gathered up the bottom of her robes, fingers fumbling on the smooth fabric; Mikael dropped the bone into Logane's lap and drew the dagger he'd taken, turning to the female.

"_Forgive me," _Mikael muttered, feeling a flush of embarrassment despite the severity of the situation they were in. He took the handful of robes from the mage and slashed with the blade, having to cut three times to sever what he thought was a large enough bit of fabric. Tal'Thera sat, drawn and pale and dabbing at her eyes, as he took the fabric and grabbed for the bone.

He inhaled deeply and blew out his breath slowly as he wound the lavendar silk around the bone, eying Logane.

"_All right, bite down on this," _he said quietly, holding the cloth-wrapped bone up to the blood elf's mouth.

Logane turned his head from it weakly. "_W-what f-f-for?"_

_ "The only way to keep you alive long enough to get to a healer is to stop the bleeding...bandages won't save you now," _Mikael replied grimly. "_I have to...I have to seal the wound." _

Remarkably, Logane's face paled even further. "_No. The pain...I w-won't be a-able to take..."_

_ "Do you want to die?"_

_ "No...no..."_

_ "Then we don't have a choice," _Mikael went on, averting his eyes from him. He glanced over his shoulder to where he could see the ruined wall, blocking their way out of the Scar and the safety of the gate back into the city. He hoped with all of his being that the guards had taken care of however many of those snake-like monsters had appeared in Tal'Thera's apartment - perhaps even now they were looking for them...but even still, help would likely not get to Logane in time.

Mikael reached out and seized the guard's chin with one hand, then moved his hand up to force Logane's mouth open. The blood elf was essentially too weak to resist, and so Mikael easily shoved the cloth-covered bone into the man's mouth.

"_Bite down, this is going to hurt. A lot."_

Mikael grasped Logane's bloody stump, causing the blood elf to moan in pain around the bone in his mouth, and then the warlock took another deep breath.

Back during his travels, when he had been searching for his brother, Mikael had come across a battalion of dwarves that were hunting a stray black drake in the Badlands. They had taken heavy casualties, there having been not one drake but two, and by the end of their battle their priests and their single paladin of their expedition had been slain, leaving them without any healing magics at all. One of the dwarves, a young one judging by the short length of his beard, had lost his leg just above the ankle; Mikael had arrived too late to assist in the battle, having come across them completely by chance, but he had watched as they dosed their injured companion liberally with ale, then sawed the jagged bone smooth and...

And had pressed a hot blade to the stump.

He'd watched as they held it in the fire, warming it to almost a red-hot temperature, then seared the wound shut in quick little passes of the hot metal. The dwarves had explained to him afterward, with the stink of blood and singed flesh on the air, that when no healing could be had, the only thing you could do to prolong someone's life was stop the bleeding.

Logane was staring at him, breathing hard around the bone stuffed in his mouth.

"_I'm sorry," _Mikael whispered as his hand grasping the bleeding severed joint ignited.

Logane let out a muffled scream, teeth grinding against the cloth and the bone; even though Mikael had pulled his hand away after a split second, he continued to scream hoarsely around his gag. A moment later the bone fell from Logane's slack mouth as he panted and moaned softly, squeezing his eyes shut.

Mikael glanced from him to see Tal'Thera staring at him, eyes wide and unblinking, and he felt a cold bubble form in the pit of his stomach. What would she think of him now, having done what he just did?

Above them the sky was just beginning to lighten - daybreak was close. In the gray of the early morning the shadows were beginning to fade but scorched rocks, remnants of trees and dirt hillocks cast long shadows yet...

Which were beginning to writhe and twist.

"_Oh no..." _he breathed, feeling Tal'Thera find his arm with her hands and dig her fingers in. He swallowed hard, standing, Tal'Thera slipping down to clutch at his legs, as before his eyes the shadows surrounding them spat out hulking forms. More snake-creatures, and there were several of them.

Mikael spun in a careful circle, disentangling himself from Tal'Thera, counting at least ten of the damn things before sinking back down to wrap his arms around the mage's shaking shoulders.

"_We're going to be okay...somehow...let me think a moment," _he whispered, thankful that at least they were far enough away still that sound still remained with them. In all honesty Mikael wasn't surprised that the things had finally made an appearance - at least he knew where they were now instead of being left with the terrible feeling of being tracked and watched.

Tal'Thera let out a pitiful whimper and squeezed her eyes shut as tears leaked down her face; Mikael held her close with one arm and thrust out his free hand, sending several bolts of shadowy magic at three of the closest creatures. He clipped the shoulder of one and sent it spinning to the ground, the other two dodging and straying further apart. Several more bolts followed the first volley, driving back the creatures a few steps but not able to keep them from reforming their ever-tightening ring.

'At least I'm giving them something to think about...reinforcements of some sort would be greatly appreciated,' he thought to himself, glancing back toward where they had leapt from the window. The hole wasn't in sight, but he knew it was there and wished he'd never leapt out of it in the first place, but at the time it seemed like the best choice: there was, after all, more room to run out here.

Or _had _been.

Without realizing it he reached for Spellcleaver's customary place on his belt, and swore when he remembered it wasn't hanging off him, but was still in Tal'Thera's workshop - all he had was this tiny little dagger -

"-_ow," _he grunted, as something bit into his fingers.

He quickly glanced down to see a shallow cut across the pads of the middle and ring fingers of his right hand, bleeding to the point they were already dripping. His ring finger on his other hand still had the bandage wrapped around it, and now he had a matching cut across two more digits. What in the world had cut him...?

"_I'm an idiot!" _Mikael all but shouted - still very thankful that he could even still _hear _himself - and fumbled at his belt, made more difficult by the fact Tal'Thera still clung to him. A plan was forming - it was desperate, but it was a plan.

"_W-warlock, t-take her...and run," _Logane whispered even as Mikael pulled at his belt. "_She...must be kept s-safe...leave m-m-me..."_

Mikael ignored him and grinned as he held something up in the pre-dawn light, an object that appeared to be a simple shard of glass that now bore a thin dribble of blood across its surface.

"_Leave me...and go!"_

"_Take hold of him," _Mikael said softly, prying Tal'Thera's hands from him and nudging her toward the ailing blood elf guard. "_I'm going to buy us some time."_

_ "I am dead, you...you must flee while you c-can!" _Logane gasped. He strained away from Tal'Thera as the mage silently rested her hands on his good leg. "_W-what are...you doing?" _

_ "Sending my regards," _came the reply. His plan was a simple one...now to just execute it...

The monsters were closing in, picking up speed like they sensed what he was about to do, and so the warlock hurried his spellcasting; he snarled out the final words of Eredun, his spell of summoning cast and directed, and gazed up to the sky. Just barely standing out against the sky was a faint green dot that was moving, leaving a blazing streak behind it. Step one, complete.

He dropped his gaze back to the ring of beasts in time to see them all sprint forward, all semblances of a careful approach lost as they sprang forward.

"_Hell..." _

"_RUN!" _Logane shouted at them - that the blood elf even had the energy to yell was an amazement in itself, but Mikael shook his head roughly.

"_Trust me!"_ he replied, beginning to spin in a circle and throw spells as rapidly as he could cast. After five casts or so all sound ceased, and he began to cast those blasts he knew worked in a soundless environment; sound came back in sputtering jolts as the reptilian monsters came in and out of range of whatever magic they possessed that caused utter silence.

"_Come on, come on," _Mikael muttered, actually hearing himself in a brief burst of sound, looking up from his casting for a split instant to check on the distance between himself and his summoned servant.

It was incredibly close, thank the Light. Time for step two. Praying he was about to time this correctly, Mikael raised his bloody hand, the one still grasping the shard of glass. He sent one more look up to the sky, mind still calculating the seconds, then slammed the glass to the ground as hard as he could.

"_Orgrimmar, Meraka!" _he shouted, not quite certain how that magical mirror had functioned in the first place, and thus not sure if he had to voice his destination or not...but there was no harm in being thorough.

The glass shattered and from the pieces rose a glimmering light; it rose above their heads, spinning in a rapid circle that grew steadily bigger, from the size of a fist to the size of barrel and finally it flattened and widened to the rough size and shape of a door. It floated just a few inches off the ground, and Mikael reached down to seize a handful of Tal'Thera's robes and haul her to her feet.

She let out a cry as he bodily hurled her through the portal, clawing at him even as she fell through, the surface of the magical doorway shimmering like water as she passed; dark red scratches joined the cuts on Mikael's fingers thanks to the mage's fingernails, but there wasn't any time to contemplate those right now. All sound went away abruptly, but he again didn't have time to worry about what had or was about to happen; Mikael bent down and seized Logane by the elf's good arm and lifted, the guard crying out in silence as new waves of pain assaulted him from the abrupt movement.

Mikael mouthed an apology as Logane went the way of Tal'Thera, shoving the blood elf through the portal.

All his instincts were screaming for him to follow, but his damn spell hadn't reached them yet - if he wanted to pull of what even he had to admit was a crazy idea, he needed to wait. He slid out of his belt the one other item he'd taken from his room, fingering the rough edges of the piece of rose quartz as he forced himself to stand still.

It was sheer hell as he stood there, watching, as time itself seemed to slow down; his reality bent around him, the monsters moving in slow motion as they came for him. They moved in unison, intending to bury him beneath their numbers - Mikael was curious now, almost in a state of calm, wondering what had caused them to approach so cautiously in the first place - but he stood his ground. And waited.

If he wanted to destroy ALL of them, at one time, they needed to be together and nearly on top of him for this to work.

Finally, time and space caught up, and he felt the air around him crackle and heat up, felt the pressure shift. Mikael leapt backwards, aiming for the portal behind him, as his summoned infernal crashed to the earth in the midst of a leaping charge of the beasts. Those that weren't crushed in the initial impact leapt toward this new threat, heedless of the flickering green flame and their flesh boiling off. Feeling his face simultaneously bathed in wet warmth and scorched by demonic fire, Mikael threw the rose quartz with all the force he could muster, and willed the portal to close.

"_Infrende."_

The ear-popping press of an explosion accompanied him through the gateway for a split instant before it closed; when his back hit solid ground he rolled, up over his head and then to his side, rolling until he felt legs halt his motion.

He looked up to see a troll standing over him, eyebrow raised but otherwise his face blank.

"_Uh, hello," _Mikael said, swallowing hard.

_"Hi, mon," _the troll said, leaning down to haul him to his feet. "_Anyone else be comin'?"_

_ "Uh, no? I don't think so. I closed the portal. Where'd I end...up," _Mikael began to ask, then trailed off when he noted the heavily armored orcs standing in a close circle. He was in a large, familiar circular room, and sure enough to his right - once the troll had stood him on his feet and Mikael had oriented himself - sat Thrall on his raised throne. The orc Warchief had an especially grim look on his face as he stood and gazed down at Mikael.

"_I trust you have a really, really good reason for this?"_

_ "It's...a long story, Warchief," _Mikael sighed. He looked from the troll to the Warchief, suddenly feeling like laughing hysterically. "_You have a moment to sit down?"_

* * *

Pathora was - grudgingly - given leave to walk about the city until Staghelm decided what to do with him. Even now the Archdruid was meeting with Tyrande, sharing with the high priestess everything Pathora had decided to share with the Archdruid - which was considerably more than what the night elves had known, but still was much less than what the male knew.

'We all need our secrets,' he told himself grimly.

The city of Darnassus was splendid, he had to admit. He felt at home amongst the tree dwellings of the Cenarions the most, but the architecture of the night elves hadn't changed much over the centuries and he had seen his fair share of centuries to be able to make that claim. Silently he strode through the city, blending in with the populace like he actually belonged here; times like these made him wish he had the luxury of settling down in a permanent living arrangement, but his duty to the green dragons - She of the Dreaming in particular - would always override any personal wishes of his own.

Absently he patted the head of a Sentinel's mount - drawing a pleasantly confused purr from the night saber and a curious look from its rider - as he passed through a marble terrace and found himself staring at the great gates of the night elf city. Odd that his wandering feet should bring him here...oh well, he had meant to come this direction eventually.

He paced along the wall, where he knew that druid female's dwelling to be - somewhere along here, where exactly he didn't quite remember. Soon enough the little home, more like a small cozy cottage, came into view, and came into view in time for him to see a shadow dart away from the side of the building.

Eyes narrowing behind their blindfold, Pathora quickly but silently hurried up to where the thing had ran away from the house and bent to the grass; above him was an open window, and below him were a set of small footprints, and he frowned as there was only one conclusion to the identity of the shadow. He rose and began to follow the footsteps as they led away from the window and the house, and up to where thick vines climbed the wall that surrounded Darnassus.

"Oh come now," he muttered, staring up the tall structure. Sure, a climb like that would be easy for...say...a small boy, but a fully armored adult like himself would have trouble.

Or, at least he _would_ have trouble, had he intended to climb it conventionally.

A moment later he touched down on the opposite side of the wall, brushing stray hair from where it had caught on the corner of his mouth. A moment later and he was snapping on his halfmask again, if only to keep from eating his own hair, and set off down what appeared to be an old dirt path that led away from the wall of the city and out into the forest.

The path twisted and turned between trees like it'd been placed there by a drunken dwarf, but it eventually dumped him out between two bushes that were on the bank of a tiny stream. Kneeling in the mud beside the water was the stooped figure of Darae.

Darae jumped as Pathora purposely broke a twig beneath his feet to announce his arrival; the boy furiously scrubbed at his face, trying to hide the fact he'd been crying, but Pathora merely held up a hand.

"Running away from our problems, are we? Your shan'do will be worried. When she finds you gone, that is."

"I'm not running," Darae said with a sniffle. "I came out...I came out here to think."

"What could someone your age have to think about?" Pathora chuckled, unclipping his sword and laying it in the scruffy grass between the bushes before stepping out and sinking down to squat on his heels by the boy. "You should be snaring rabbits and playing with boys your age. Time is limited before you're forced to take on responsibilities of adulthood. You should be enjoying your childhood while you can."

"Elves don't have a lot of kids," Darae replied sullenly. "And I'm in training. I don't..."

"Don't have time to play? How long does the little-"

"S-shan'do would punch you, if she heard that," the boy interrupted, hugging his knees into his chest.

"All right then. How long does your shan'do actually train you each day? A few hours? Several hours? All day long?"

Darae hunched in further on himself and didn't reply, and Pathora could hear him sniffling. "You're not listening to me at all, are you boy?"

Again no reply, and Pathora frowned heavily. "No, you're not."

They sat in silence a moment, the only sounds being that of Darae's sniffling and the trickling of the tiny stream. Finally, Pathora cleared his throat.

"You should go home. Your shan'do will likely have noticed you gone by now."

"That's not home."

"Oh?" the warrior mused, glancing sideways at him. "How do you figure?"

"I don't have a home, not anymore," Darae whispered. "Mom and da are gone. That was my da on the ground, I recognized him. He and mom never went anywhere without each other."

"Yet they were captured separately," Pathora said, raising a finger and pointing it at him. "Obviously that did not hold true."

Darae glared at him, eyes shining. "Shut up, you didn't know my parents and you don't know me!"

"Don't say something you might regret," Pathora said dryly. "You're too young to think you know everything."

"I knew mom and da, and I know I've got no parents anymore, so just shut up and leave me alone," Darae snapped. "Why'd you even follow me anyway? I don't want to talk to you."

"Well, your shan'do didn't send me, I can tell you that. I came out here because there was a little sneak skulking around the druid's home. Seems it was just a whelp, no worries at all."

Darae bristled and scooted on his rear end to put his back to the male. Pathora shook his head and laughed.

"Has the fight gone out of you then?"

"There's nothing to fight for!" Darae snapped, spinning back around. "My family is gone!"

"Your family gone is all the more reason to keep fighting!" Pathora snarled, grabbing Darae by the front of his tunic and hauling him forward so they were nose to nose. "You think you're the only one in the world to lose someone you love? There's a score or more of missing night elves. No telling how many of the other races, I don't have those numbers. All have friends and family somewhere, I don't doubt. You're not the only orphan in the world, either."

"I don't want to live as an orphan," Darae growled, trying to twist out of the male's grasp. "I wish I'd died with my parents!"

"You really believe that?" Pathora laughed into the boy's face and shoved him away. Darae hit the ground and slipped sideways in the mud, landing on his side in the water; when he pulled himself into a sitting position, he found the tip of Pathora's sword pointed at him.

"Do you want to die, then? I can make it easy for you. Grant your wish."

Darae stared up the length of the massive blade silently, angry tears running down his face. After a moment, Pathora sighed heavily and nodded.

"Very well then."

He pulled back and swung, a full swing of the entire sword with all the force behind it he could muster; when he completed the swing he expertly halted his motion and brandished the sword over his head before flipping it over to drop the tip into the soft river mud, resting his wrists across the hilt.

"Changed your mind?" he asked dryly.

Darae picked himself up from where he'd landed in the mud when he had dove aside, eyes wide as he stared up at the man.

"Y-you were going to kill me!"

"You asked me to."

"You were actually going to kill me!"

Pathora chuckled and pulled his sword free of the mud, shaking off a stray clump and laying it back in the grass before sitting back down. "Clean yourself off and speak with me. What truly bothers you?"

Darae sullenly scrubbed dirt off his hands in the water of the stream, refusing to look at him. "What do you care?"

"Why do you care what I care?"

Now the boy turned around. "What's going to happen to me now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mom and da are gone. I don't want to go live with some aunt or uncle I barely know," Darae said quietly. "And..."

"And what?"

"I don't want to leave Darnassus," the boy went on, hugging his knees to his chest again. "I miss my parents. I want them back. What...what do I do?" He rubbed a dirty hand across his face, leaving a smudge of grit on one cheek. "How did you know I would duck?"

"I can tell you're not ready to die, not quite yet," Pathora said with a sniff. "I've killed enough people to see the difference in their eyes. Someone who doesn't care looks at you differently than someone who wants to cling to life a bit longer." The male inhaled deeply, plucking a piece of grass and beginning to shred it between his fingers. "You feel adrift, don't you?"

"What do I do?" Darae asked glumly. "It's not fair..."

"What's not fair?"

"Why my parents? Why MY parents?"

"What caused Azshara to fall to vanity? What allowed so many Highborn to purposely ignore the atrocities they inflicted upon their own people? What happened to Arthas, that Frostmourne stole his soul? Why did Illidan chose the demons over his own people and abilities?"

Darae was staring at him, jaw hanging open. For several moments the two merely looked at one another, then the boy sighed. "But...we know history. We know why those things happened."

"Do we?" Pathora countered. "We know _how _those things happened. Do we know why, though? Why those people? Why was it Arthas? Why Illidan?" He let the remnants of the grass fall to the earth and ground it into the mud with a finger. "I have lived a very long time. The workings of fate are a mystery to even one of my age."

"So it was my fate for my parents to die?" Darae snorted loudly. "That's a bad fate."

"We must live with what fates we are given. The question is, however, if you will face your fate bravely or with cowardice. Death is too easy. It's too easy to give up." He gestured to his weapon in the grass. "I'd have been very disappointed had you not moved."

"But you still intended to cut me in half."

"Well, take your head off. But yes, essentially." Beneath his mask he smiled and shook his head. "Listen. You have decided to live. Now is the time to become a living legacy for your parents. Carry their names with you in your heart. Fight for their memory. Live and grow. Their spirits on the other side will watch with pride."

"Fight what, though? I'm not trained, and I'm not big enough to fight those things that attacked my shan'do."

"Then learn beneath your shan'do and be ready for when your time comes." Pathora stood, retrieving his sword and clipping it to his back; he frowned at the mud clinging to his armor, but then shrugged and began heading up the path again. "If you truly need something to fight for, there is your shan'do. Devote yourself to her knowledge and her defense."

Darae remained by the little stream and Pathora left him behind without a second thought, heading back along the path until he got to the wall and sailed over it as he had previously. A brief feeling of amusement struck him as he touched down on the opposite side, within the city: anyone having spotted him would have had a hard time figuring out how exactly he'd leapt a wall that tall, simple warrior that he appeared to be.

A few minutes later found him back outside the little druid's home. He adjusted his blindfold more snugly over his eyes and strode up to the door, inhaling before knocking politely. The shaman, Sevei, opened the door a crack, then opened it more fully as he recognized who was on his doorstep.

"Pathora. What brings you to our home?" the draenei said, nodding in greeting - and then peering passed the night elf like he looked for another.

Pathora cleared his throat. "The Archdruid is not with me. I came alone."

"I was actually checking where the Sentinels were," Sevei chuckled. "Come in. Saliea is still in bed, I'm afraid."

"Are you aware you're missing a student?" Pathora said as he stepped inside and Sevei shut the door behind him.

"Uh, yes, actually. I found the open window a moment ago. Judging by your question I'm guessing you're the one who found him. He is...well, not hurt, is he?"

Pathora grunted and shrugged, striding in confidently and unclipping his sword from his back as he moved. "Well enough. He is misguided in his grief. Perhaps given time to himself he will decide his own path." The night elf leaned his sword against the wall and settled into an empty armchair - the one Sevei had vacated to let him in, judging by the warmth still evident in the seat - and propped his chin in his hand as the draenei pulled up a second chair and sat in it, facing him.

"Will she awaken soon?"

Sevei gestured to the doorway behind Pathora. "I am not certain. She was exhausted from her injuries and has been sleeping deeply since she lay down earlier. I could wake her and see how she feels, if you're wanting to speak with her."

Pathora glanced over his shoulder at a partially closed door, and could see through the little bit that was open the end of a bed and a pair of bare feet. "No, let her rest. She deserves it, having fought two." He slowly tapped a finger against his cheek, studying Sevei with his blind gaze. The draenei was apparently perfectly comfortable sitting in silence, and it took a moment for the night elf to realize the shaman's attention was elsewhere; a slowing of the breathing, the glazing-over of the eyes, slight indications that Sevei's concentration was somewhere other than on his visitor. Part of Pathora was amused and yet another was annoyed.

"I have spoken to the Archdruid. He now speaks to your leader of state, the High Priestess."

Sevei blinked slowly and dragged his gaze back to the night elf. "Yes?"

"I fear the two will, despite the information I have shared, will not honor a request I made of them. I require your wife," Pathora said, then immediately regretted his wording as the shaman visibly bristled.

"You what?"

The night elf patted the air consolingly. "I worded that incorrectly. I require your wife's social ties. I need a druid to perform a task for me. I wouldn't dream of asking her to do it herself. Merely...I wish to go to Moonglade, and with your wife's knowledge find a druid who would be well-suited to my task."

Sevei's agitated expression faded to one of quiet weariness. "What is so important that only a druid can do it?"

Pathora smiled faintly. "No other of any calling can walk the Emerald Dream. Green dragons and all who are associated with them have been barred from the Dream. I have been locked out, otherwise I would do it myself. There is no time to deliberate over it - I _must _know what goes on in the Dream."

"We can leave in the morning," came a quiet voice from behind him. Sal leaned against the doorway, wrapped in a robe with her hair hanging around her face in a mess. She favored the previously-injured leg as she walked around Pathora's chair and slid into Sevei's lap, hiding a yawn behind a hand. "Fandral is known for taking his time on certain issues. If it's anything that will endanger his precious druids, he will take his time weighing every possible option he has."

"A good quality in a leader, but ultimately could prove to be our downfall in this case," Pathora said, shaking his head. "Time, I fear, is short. The longer we wait the more people shall disappear."

"Do you know what's causing the disappearances?" Saliea asked, leaning back into her husband. The shaman silently wrapped arms around her waist, but the warrior could tell that despite the draenei's outer appearance he was now listening attentively.

"I do. And I have shared that with your Archdruid."

"Will you tell us?"

"Perhaps in Moonglade. I detest repeating myself more than necessary."

Saliea looked at Sevei, who merely shrugged helplessly, then she sat up in his lap. "I will take you to Moonglade, then. It won't be the first time I've ever disobeyed Fandral."

Pathora chuckled and stood, reaching up to remove his mask and smiling when both Saliea and Sevei jerked in surprise.

"You're wearing a mask?" she asked, sounding amazed.

"Do not feel foolish for not noticing. It is enchanted to make me unnoticeable. All part of being a myth," the male said, turning the mask over in his hands. "You won't notice it unless I call your attention to it in some way." Scratching at his beard, he grabbed his sword and returned it to his back as he strode for the door. "I will see you at dawn."

"Until then," Saliea called after him.

As Pathora was shutting the door behind him, he heard her suddenly say "where is Darae?" and smiled to himself.

* * *

Tal'Thera paced frantically in the tiny room she'd been shoved into upon flying out of the portal and landing nearly at Warchief Thrall's feet. Meraka had immediately grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet and ushered her out of the throne room; Thrall had quickly ordered a detachment of Kor'kron warriors to guard the room Meraka had put her in, the mage disappearing before the shut door. When Tal'Thera had tried the door she found it locked, like the orc had anticipated the blood elf trying it.

A Kor'kron, a fierce-looking female orc, had tugged the door open.

"_I am under orders to keep you here until Thrall or the mage come to retrieve you," _the orc had said gruffly, before shutting the door in Tal'Thera's face.

The blood elf walked along the wall of the small, square room; there was a low cot full of sleeping furs and a pillow, a very small dresser with a mirror hanging on the wall above it, and a table set low on the floor with water and hard bread sitting on it.

Where was Mikael? Was he okay? How dare he throw her through the portal like that! How _dare_ he leave her without even an inkling as to whether he was even alive!

She felt like she was going to literally explode from the stress and thus kept pacing, if only to have an outlet for all the excess energy she felt inside her. Finally she paused and willed herself to calm down, standing in the center of the room and taking several deep breaths.

Her head ached from crying and her stomach was churning, and her cheeks felt sticky with sweat and tears. Her gaze fell on the pitcher of water sitting on the table - she didn't feel thirsty, but she filled the mug on the table with water to drink later and took the rest of the pitcher to the dresser and mirror. She dipped her hands into the water and rinsed them, then pulled a handkerchief from within her robes and dipped a corner of it and raised it to her face.

And abruptly dropped it, as standing directly behind her was Mikael.

She spun around with a gasp. "Mikael-!" Tal'Thera wanted nothing more at that moment than to throw herself into his arms, crying with relief over his safe return, but instead stumbled and nearly fell to the floor when her arms swept through empty air. No one stood behind her.

The blood elf swallowed hard and closed her eyes, once again seeing Mikael's image in the mirror. He'd been so close! If she had merely reached a hand behind her should could have touched him...

But wait...

The image swam to the front of her mind, and she thought she was tired enough for her to have been mistaken in what she recalled.

Once again she didn't see the warlock as she'd become accustomed to seeing him: disguised as a blood elf, that is. Again she could remember seeing him as he'd once appeared to her out of a dream it seemed; the staring, empty pits for eyes and the ghostly appearance. She'd counted such a frightening appearance as merely a figment of her imagination at the time...perhaps the stress was causing her to recall it.

She took a deep breath, and turned back to the mirror. Her own pale visage stared back at her; she raised a hand and rubbed it across her cheeks, her eyes and face red from fright and from crying. Her handkerchief was laying crumpled on the floor, and she bent to retrieve it with shaking hands.

Dipping it again in the water she began to scrub at her face, feeling more confused than ever and wishing, and praying to any deity that was listening, that Mikael wouldn't die for her sake.


	10. Chapter 10

"I take it from our previous conversation that your wife has been barred from going to Moonglade?" Pathora said as a way of greeting when Sevei opened the door to him the following morning.

"She's been told not to leave Darnassus period."

"And you are okay with this?"

Sevei chuckled, stepping outside instead of inviting the night elf male in. "She'll start removing pieces if I tried to keep her here. I like possessing all my limbs, thanks."

Pathora simply shook his head - what happened between the couple wasn't any of his business, all he needed was a druid and he didn't care who. Sevei nodded toward the city and began to walk, Pathora falling into step with him.

"She is meeting us in the city?"

"Yes. She and Darae were up before the sun was."

"The boy is feeling better then? When did he return?"

"He came back shortly after you left." Sevei inhaled deeply and slowly blew out his breath. "As best as could be expected considering the circumstances. He was a quiet boy to begin with, and now in mourning he grows more silent. Saliea is being certain to give him the space she senses he needs, and is determined to continue his instruction on the druidic path uninterrupted." His gaze grew unfocused a moment, then he blinked and came back to the moment. "I shall keep an eye on him. For now we are his family, and shall give him any support he seeks from us. I feel...that he is destined for something yet."

"Indeed. It is kind of you to take him in."

"Until his family is located, he will remain with us and receive instruction," the draenei said with a nod. "And even then...it shall be entirely his choice whether he wants to leave or stay." Pathora looked at him sharply, and Sevei kept his face blank. "Wind carries words a long way," the shaman said after a moment.

Again the night elf shook his head, following along as they traveled on foot through Darnassus, half of the city now settling down to sleep - he'd never get used to some night elves' persisting nocturnal habits. After a brisk walk they were finally at the glowing purple portal used to transport people and objects from the high-placed city down to the roots and Rut'Theran Village; Sevei walked through without hesitation and Pathora had no choice but to follow. When he next blinked he found himself standing on the opposite side of the magical gateway, looking out over a dock and the sea, a wet breeze blowing in his face.

Sevei was waiting at the bottom of the small hill the portal sat on, and Pathora hurried to join him, remaining a few steps behind the draenei as they bypassed the dock and headed to their left up onto a wooden walkway hugging the great tree. A few Sentinels nodded to them as they passed by, and finally at the end of the walkway they saw Saliea and Darae standing with another night elf male. The druid was bent over where a hippogryph roosted, talking in a low voice to an attentive Darae, pointing here and there on the body of the beast; the hippogryph seemed amused by the attention and continuously ruffled its wings, his handler adding in a comment here and there as Saliea talked.

Both student and teacher looked up as the other two approached, Saliea giving her husband a quick peck on the cheek and nodding to Pathora. Darae bowed to them both - and was careful to avoid looking at Pathora - then stood silently; Saliea reached back and patted the head of the hippogryph behind them.

"Are we ready to be off, then? It will be a flight of several hours over the open water to Moonglade."

"The quicker the better. How many creatures do you have?" The question was directed at the other night elf male standing with them, and he nodded to them.

"I have five here, though you must understand I cannot send four of them with you. The boy cannot ride alone either."

"We can double up, Master Vesprystus," Saliea said, smiling.

Vesprystus nodded and began to organize his hippogryphs as Saliea turned back to the others.

"He will likely distribute us by weight," she began, chuckling as her husband let out an exasperated sigh.

"See, this is why I like riding," Sevei grumbled good-naturedly. "An elekk, a talbuk even, can carry both myself and my tiny wife."

"I did not just hear that," Saliea said flatly, drawing a laugh and a kiss on the forehead from the draenei. "It's not my fault you're so damn big."

"My dear, ALL males of my race are this big."

"I have your transportation ready," Vesprystus broke in, hiding a smile behind a hand. "Druid and...warrior, boy and shaman, if you please."

The flight master waved away any offers of payment and helped them mount and strap on to the winged beasts; a moment later the two hippogryphs and their passengers were out over the sea and getting drenched by the wet air.

"Can we go a bit higher, please?" Saliea shouted to the mount she shared with Pathora. The hippogryph clacked his beak in annoyance but rose several meters, getting them out of the spray whipped high by the winds off the water. Sevei and Darae's mount followed, and from here Saliea could see the draenei holding a one-sided conversation with the boy; he must have been explaining something however, for a moment later Darae nodded and began talking himself.

"He is an inquisitive lad I take it. When he talks, anyhow," Pathora shouted to her over the wind.

"He is intelligent, yes," she replied. "And willing to learn. He will make an excellent druid someday...I just wish that his childhood had lasted longer."

"All children must grow up."

"There are far too many orphans in the world for my liking."

"So the slain elves were the boy's parents then?"

Saliea sighed, answer enough for the male even though he couldn't hear the action. After a moment she shook her head. "One of the priestesses knew his mother, and...helped identify the remains," Saliea said grimly. "They came and informed us late last night - luckily Darae was asleep, but Sevei tells me the boy already knew that his parents were gone."

"He followed the draenei and saw the bodies. How he knew the female was his mother I will never know. She was in several pieces the Sentinels had to gather to even take back to the city."

Saliea grimaced and then shuddered. "Please, spare me the details."

"Sorry."

They lapsed into silence with wind being the only sound in their ears. Pathora had to hand it to the druid - she was incredibly hard to read and so right now he couldn't tell what she was thinking. Truthfully he didn't particularly care what she thought, but he definitely didn't want to weather any of her temper if she held him accountable for the death of Darae's mother...or couldn't tell if she felt any guilt at all at having been the death of Darae's father.

In all honesty Pathora didn't believe either of them were to blame for the loss of the two night elves; at that moment they had been given a single choice between two extremes: kill or be killed. The druid had certainly come close to death's door, and wouldn't be sitting in front of him had he not intervened.

...or would she have died?

It bothered him, it truly did, that the creature had not killed her outright but had instead seemed to be dragging her off somewhere. Had he thwarted some odd kidnapping plot? She definitely wasn't about to disappear like so many others had - those had all gone in their sleep, their minds trapped in dreams and their bodies stolen. It was as though some sort of bizarre, malevolent fisherman was standing on the proverbial barrier between awake and dreaming and was casting a net into the flow of sleeping mortals. Some slipped through while others were caught, small fish and big fish...but what was the connection? How did Saliea fit in?

How _were_ they taking those mortals anyhow? Who was taking them, and why? Why were their bodies warped into twisted nightmares and sent back out into the world to attack, kill, possibly kidnap? The Nightmare had something to do with it, he knew. He knew that anyone who came into contact with the Nightmare ran the risk of never leaving the Emerald Dream, but the odds of so many beings, all at one time, all encountering the Nightmare and becoming trapped...he was no gambler, but even he could imagine the odds on _that _bet.

So many, many questions and Pathora had no answers for them...and furthermore, he had no answer for why the green dragons and their allies had been barred from the Dream - or trapped within it - yet the druids were still free to come and go. Did the ones behind the current manipulation of the Nightmare not consider the druids a threat? The druids' immunity to the spell trapping the dragons in and out of the Dream did not make sense...if anything, it should be the _druids _unable to enter or leave the Emerald Dream, not the other way around!

How in the world - or out of it - had the culprits even learned of the Nightmare, much less managed to halt its movement, even though it was little more than a small fragment, in the Dream? Not even the greens had managed to force any of it to stop!

Many, many questions...

He _had _to learn what was happening to the Dream. He HAD to.

"How are you connected to the dragons?" Saliea suddenly asked him.

'Speaking of dragons...' he thought in amusement. "I serve. Whatever is asked of me. That is all you need know."

"If I'm going to help you, I should know more a bit more about you than that," she said dryly.

He shrugged. "Helping me is your choice. Sharing any more than I need to about myself is mine."

She turned back around with a frustrated sigh to face fully ahead. He was glad his mask hid his grin; his agenda was his own, after all. How he was connected to the green dragons shouldn't matter to her - she herself, being a druid, was connected to them as well anyhow, and you didn't see him pestering her with questions about her personal connections to anything.

Not that he really cared.

He let his gaze drift out over the water; blue liquid as far as he could see in every direction. Twisting around he could see, or imagined he could see, the vague shadow of Teldrassil against the horizon. He likely would not be returning to the night elves' haven, and wasn't decided on how he felt about that. Again, the faint tug to settle down and live a quiet life came to him, but his sense of duty quickly rose up and buried it. What would he do with a quiet life anyhow?

He yawned and shifted himself to more evenly distribute the pressure on his backside - it was going to be a long flight.

When they landed in Moonglade later they slid off their mounts and helped the flight master take off the straps and stable the winged beasts in nests, then Saliea turned north.

"Nighthaven is that way, we still have a long walk ahead of us."

"Then let us go. My task is urgent," Pathora said, striding passed the druid and heading up the only road in sight.

"Gods he is annoying," Saliea muttered, rolling her eyes. "Come on Darae, stick close. There's cats here bigger than I am."

"That's not saying much," Sevei said with an innocent whistle, grinning under the withering glare Sal sent his way.

With Pathora leading, several strides ahead of the others, they began to walk north to the night elf city of Nighthaven, home to the Cenarion druids who protected the holy place of Moonglade. As they walked Saliea found herself continuously looking southeast: her mother's grave lay in that direction, on the eastern bank of Lake Elune'Ara. Salindra may have been a priestess, not a druid, but Fandral Staghelm had requested - not ordered - that she be buried upon the spot where she had first met her husband Donnovan.

"Here he will find her when he returns," Fandral had supposedly said when the priestess had been laid to rest.

Sevei reached over and twined his hand in hers, smiling. "We can go visit her, once we get rid of him."

"I can still hear you, you know," Pathora called over his shoulder.

The two chuckled and kept walking, remaining hand in hand; Darae trailed along silently in their wake, thoroughly distracted by the incredible sense of peace that kept threatening to overcome him.

Moonglade was the holy place of the druids, untouched by corruption despite the battles once fought here. Darae could almost physically feel the nature magic tugging at his mind, and felt a natural instinct to relax here. Did all druids feel that way when they came here? He felt like asking his shan'do, but she seemed focused on something else, something to the southeast, he probably shouldn't bother her.

Eventually the feeling of peace faded to something he couldn't put a name to...but the tugging sensation remained. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and scuffed his feet as he walked - what was affecting him? Maybe he just wasn't trained enough yet to keep the sensation of nature from constantly distracting him...

Without warning the road split, one path leading off to the left while the other continued straight, and Darae was several yards down the path to the left before he turned around with a start. Saliea and Sevei, and Pathora with them, were already out of sight.

'What...? Why did I walk this way?' he wondered, feeling a momentary sense of panic. 'Did shan'do even notice I wandered off? ...would she care if she did?' he added sourly.

In the spanse of a single blink, it seemed, he found himself farther down the wrong path.

'Why are you going this way? Turn around!' Darae thought angrily. His feet, however, seemed to have other ideas, and kept him moving at a now-brisk pace down the path.

He finally came up to an archway seemingly standing alone in the forest...but it was what was _behind _that archway that made his mouth gape open. A tall figure, at first glance a huge buck with a white belly and brown coat, stood framed in the archway. It wasn't a buck though, as the top half was that of a night elf male with a set of antlers sprouting from his forehead; his green hair was more like a mass of leaves falling over his shoulders, and one of the being's hands was taloned and looked like it was made of wood, and the other had very fine vines climbing up the arm to the bicep.

And whatever it was was looking right at him.

Darae slowly put one foot behind him, then slid the other back.

"Uh...I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's fine, young night elf," the being rumbled, smiling warmly at him. "Come closer, you are here because I wished you to be here."

Darae paused, but didn't come any closer. "...who are you?"

"My name is Remulos, and I am the son of Cenarius."

And Darae didn't think his jaw could drop any lower...

Remulos chuckled and again gestured for Darae to come closer, so creep closer he did. Darae passed under the archway, and now could see that three others stood to the sides and ahead of him, forming an incredibly open square, but what caught his attention was the tree directly behind Remulos. The tree was an elm, but was formed in the shape of woman - her trunk entered the ground mid-thigh, and her arms were raised above her head, leaves sprouting from her fingers, a separate sprouting of leaves serving as a thick mane of hair that framed a smiling face.

Now standing a mere five feet from the male, Darae stood nervously and stared at the ground between the male's hooves. He almost jumped out of his skin when Remulos's hand - his _normal_ hand - appeared in his line of vision; Remulos gently touched the boy's chin and tipped his head upward.

"Why so nervous, young one?"

Darae thought his tongue had frozen to the roof of his mouth.

Remulos smiled and released him. "I know that you are under the tutelage of the druid Saliea Silvermist. She is a fine teacher and you will learn much...she was quite the handful when she trained here, you know," he chuckled. "However, I have a suggestion on your guidance."

"T-they all s-said I'm feral," Darae stammered. "I want to s-stay with my shan'do. I w-want to l-learn to fight."

"I know you wish to stay with her. I know of the passing of your parents." When Darae dropped his gaze to the ground at that, Remulos's smile grew sad. "I am sorry for your loss, young one, but you must remember that the greatest honor to the dead is to continue living so that their memory never dies."

"I miss my parents..." Darae said quietly.

"I know. Your grief will be long, and your memories wistful and sad, but all wounds heal with time," he said softly. "I called you here to me for a single reason: a suggestion on where to focus your studies. Not all who seem feral are truly meant to follow that path."

Darae sighed heavily. "Everyone keeps telling me to find my path, that I will walk a path right for me and know what that's supposed to mean. I have no idea where to go, what to do. Why does everyone think I should know all this? I'm just a kid."

Remulos rested a hand on his head, and Darae swore he shrank three inches from the weight.

"No one should know this young what it is they want to do. However, I think I can give you a push in the right direction," Remulos said.

The massive weight removed itself from Darae's head, and he looked up to see that same hand held out in front of him, something held delicately between the finger and thumb.

Darae carefully reached up and took what he held - a brilliant blue and gray feather now rested in the boy's palm. He looked down at it then up at Remulos in confusion.

"What's this?"

"You will know what to do with it later. For now, keep it safe. Return to your teacher and continue your training."

Darae carefully stuck the feather into a pocket, then bowed deeply to Remulos; the other bowed his antlered head, then watched as the boy turned and ran back down the path the way he'd come.

* * *

Saliea didn't appear surprised as Darae came sprinting up behind them just as they were entering Nightaven; she merely sent Sevei a knowing look, rested her free hand on Darae's shoulder and guided the panting boy along with them as they unhurriedly met up where Pathora stood just inside the city.

"How will you go about finding a druid?"

"We're in Moonglade, you can't sneeze without hitting a druid," Sal said dryly. "I will speak with Loganaar, he will know how to find a druid best suited to your...needs. You will need to share those needs, however."

"I would like to speak to this Loganaar."

At the male's persistent silence, Saliea rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. "Fine, whatever. Come on, I'll take you to Loganaar."

* * *

She was sitting on the edge of the low cot, wringing her hands, when she heard the lock jingle and the door opened a crack. Immediately she was up and halfway across the room, but the door quickly shut again and she stopped, feeling utterly dejected.

"_Why do they insist on keeping me in here?" _she moaned, turning to return to the cot.

"BecauseMasterwantstokeepyous afe."

Tal'Thera froze, turning around at the voice. No one had come in that door, it hadn't opened far enough to-

Her gaze drifted to the floor when a flicker of green caught her attention, and she saw with some surprise that an imp sat there, little arms crossed and ears drooping.

She jumped back, nearly tripping over her own feet as she scrambled to put space between herself and the creature, and the imp's ears perked up.

"SillyelfafraidofJakpit? That'sfunny."

"_I - what?" _the mage stammered. "_I can't understand a word you're saying!"_

The imp growled and shook his head, then scampered across the floor to hop up on the table facing her. "My. Name. Is. Jakpit."

"_Well, you don't need to be so rude about it," _she said, swallowing hard.

"You need to learn to listen," the imp said, slightly faster than his introduction but still slower than he had been speaking initially. "You stay here, Master keep you safe."

"_M-master? Your master is...Mikael? He's alive?!"_

"Master alive. Tired. Talking to big orcs."

Tal'Thera came forward and actually seized the imp around the middle, lifting him off the table and shaking. "_But he's alive?"_

"Would...not be here if he was dead," the imp grunted, squirming in her grip. "Put Jakpit down!"

She dropped the imp back to the table and he brushed himself off like he was disgusted she'd touched him. Now the blood elf backed away until the backs of her legs hit the cot and she fell onto it.

Mikael was alive. Thank the gods. _Thank the gods._

Jakpit sat on the table, twiddling his thumbs and looking quite bored.

"_Why are you here?" _she finally asked.

"Master sent me to prove he's alive. Also, tell you that he'll come when he can. He talking to orcs, they make him stay and talk to grumpy elf."

"_Grumpy...elf? The Regent Lord?" _she asked in a rush, leaning toward the imp.

Jakpit's ears twitched and he rolled his beady little eyes, chittering in laughter. "How does Jakpit know? All elves look same to me. He loud. He grumpy. Kind of mad. Blonde hair. He angry that you here and not there...wherever there is. I don't know. Master not tell, Jakpit not there to listen."

Tal'Thera wrung her hands again. If Lor'Themar was angry at Mikael for escaping the city, taking her from Silvermoon to save her life...she prayed Lor'Themar's gratitude for her preservation would override any rage over what his arrogance could essentially call a kidnapping.

More and more it seemed her association with Mikael was pushing him further and further to some point where he ran the very real risk of being executed or otherwise killed. And it would be entirely her fault.

Would he even want to be around her after this?

Her stomach clenched when she thought of him leaving. Just taking his sword, unfinished though it was, and departing. She'd never see him again...could she blame him if he left to preserve his own life?

The idea of him leaving made her...incredibly sad.

* * *

Meraka calmly led Mikael through Grommash Hold, the warlock wearily rubbing at his eyes as he fully felt the effects of having not slept well recently on top of having missed an entire night's sleep. The mage kept glancing at him from over her shoulder, and finally he stopped moving and sighed.

"_What is it?"_

_ "I was wondering if you are okay..."_

_ "Oh, sure. Fine."_

In reality on top of being dead tired he was also sorely annoyed. Thrall immediately had Lor'Themar contacted - magically, of course - and had spoken with the blood elf leader, and of course the Regent Lord had demanded to speak with Mikael. The Warchief had drawn Mikael aside a moment, and had quietly instructed him not to reveal what Thrall had tasked him with, nor to tell the blood elf how Mikael had escaped to Orgrimmar with Tal'Thera. The interview had almost ended in a shouting match, Lor'themar once again blaming Mikael for the attacks and almost, _almost, _blaming the warlock for the 'death' of Logane, who was not actually dead...not yet, anyhow. The guard's recovery was iffy at the best, and he was being watched carefully by a talented group of priests and shaman, but as the hours wore on the healers had grimly told them that the shock and pain Logane had suffered might kill him despite the amount of healing magic they were pumping into him.

A single phrase kept haunting Mikael, however. During the argument - which was not so much an argument as Lor'themar demanding the information Thrall had forbidden him to tell - the blood elf had of course gotten enraged, and mentioned the tattoos across Mikael's back.

"_Do not think we didn't notice them, nor did it escape out attention that they were magical in nature," _Lor'themar had raged. "_Perhaps I should have those very secrets ripped directly from you, starting there!"_

Thrall had quickly stepped in to admonish the Regent Lord, warning him that Mikael's personal life and his person were not at trial here, and also commenting on how Mikael's quick thinking had gotten Tal'Thera safely away from the attacking monsters and had also likely saved Logane's life by refusing to leave the guard behind. Lor'themar had grudgingly agreed, and had also given in to Thrall's urging to allow Tal'Thera to stay hidden in Orgrimmar until _something_ had been discovered about her attacker - SOMEONE had to be controlling those beasts, and until they found out who it would be foolish for Tal'Thera to return to Silvermoon, something her enemy would be on the lookout for.

"_And why couldn't I tell him of the teleport spell? Or of my task?" _he had asked them afterward, once contact with the blood elf leader had been severed.

_ "The knowledge of my portable spells isn't widely known," _Meraka had answered from where she stood silently, attentively, behind the Warchief. "_It worked this time because no one knew. A secret revealed can never be a secret again. And, as you received this information through questionable means-" _she paused, raising her hand to silence him. "_I know of Arachne, I have utilized her network of spies and informants more than once to locate certain bits of information of lost magics, but too many who know little about her claim she is a liar."_

_ "I trust the information you have acquired for us," _Thrall broke in. "_Meraka is correct, however, in her statement about secrets. For now I believe it best we keep the knowledge of Meraka's mobile teleport spell to ourselves."_

After that Meraka had led him from the room, and now Mikael began to walk again but the orc mage stopped him with an outstretched hand.

"_You're lying," _Meraka said after a moment. "_Lor'themar knows how to get under the skin sometimes. I secretly wonder if it was wise for Kael'Thas to leave him in charge, as it sometimes appear that even Lor'themar doubts in his ability to lead an entire city. He was once Ranger General, and I wonder if he doesn't miss what was likely a simple life compared to the one he leads now. Likely he is scared such monstrous beasts can flit in and out of his city seemingly at will without anyone detecting them."_

_ "I'm fine, really."_

_ "You look tired. And irritated."_

_ "I've had about as much as I can take of arrogance tonight," _Mikael sighed.

Meraka didn't exactly have the heart to tell him that the sun was almost above the horizon and that night was over, but she turned on her heel and began to walk once more. Mikael followed her - what else was he going to do? - and several doors further down she paused, facing two Kor'kron guards who bowed to her and stepped out of the way.

"_In here," _the mage said unnecessarily, unlocking the door with a flick of her fingers and pushing it open.

* * *

Tal'Thera couldn't fall asleep - every time she closed her eyes she had moving shadows that proved to be nothing when she opened them again - and so she was laying on the cot curled into a miserable little ball. Jakpit was curled up like a cat on the table, snoring loudly, having grown quite bored with the blood elf earlier.

When the lock clicked, and the door opened, Tal'Thera sat up quickly and rubbed at her eyes. There were voices in the hallway outside, and coming through the door was a boot attached to a leg attached to a man -

The human - still in his blood elf disguise, not that she noticed - actually hit the door behind him and shut it again under the force of her hitting him.

"_You're alive..."_

Mikael wiggled his arms free from where she'd pinned them to his sides and held them out awkwardly - did he hug her back? Would that be appropriate?

Tal'Thera didn't notice that he didn't hug her back; she dug her fingers into his lower back, her face pressed into his chest, eyes closed as she simply pressed herself as close as she could and reveled in the fact she could feel his heart beating against her cheek.

Finally she felt arms sliding around her and felt her pulse race just a bit as fingers rested gently on her hips.

"_Yeah, I'm alive," _he said softly, chuckling. "_Will take more than a few giant reptiles to end me. Uh...we just shut Meraka out in the hallway..."_

She stepped back to allow him to get off the door but she remained within touching distance, part of her still not believing that he stood alive and well before her. Meraka opened the door, an amused look on her face as the orc slid into the room; Mikael noticed she was holding a pitcher and a mug that she hadn't had before he'd come inside.

The orc gestured for them to seat themselves at the low table as she settled the pitcher and the mug down and folded her hands neatly on top of the table after she shoved a squawking Jakpit to the floor.

"_Sent by Thrall for you both. He orders that you eat, drink, and rest while he decides the next best course of action."_

Tal'Thera was sitting close to Mikael, and out of Meraka's sight beneath the table she slowly inched her hand from her lap into his and found a hand; she fought hard to keep her breathing steady as she felt fingers slowly entwine with her own. The blood elf swallowed hard and glanced at him; his expression didn't betray anything besides a deep weariness, but even now he was shaking his head.

"_I'm fine Meraka, really. I should probably -"_

_ "Don't argue with the Warchief, warlock," _Meraka chuckled. She reached out and poured him a mug of water, pushing it at him. "_I can tell you haven't slept, and I know humans don't do well on little sleep."_

_ "I'm fine. I know my own limitations."_

_ "But Thrall does not, and he means well."_

Mikael rolled his eyes and swallowed a few mouthfuls, making a face. "_Blech, it's stale."_

Meraka emptied out Tal'Thera's mug of water and refilled it from the pitcher, nudging it toward the female. Tal'Thera carefully took it and sipped from it, realizing she wasn't all that thirsty but not wanting to anger the mage.

Meraka drummed her fingers on the table, staring down thoughtfully, then gestured toward the single cot in the room. "_One of you at least should get some rest," _she said evenly, glancing between the two of them.

Mikael opened his mouth to reply, then let out a heavy sigh and swayed, his fingers going slack where he held Tal'Thera's hand beneath the table. She looked up in alarm as he grasped at his own head with his free hand, but Meraka was already around behind them, slipping hands beneath his arms and pulling him to his feet.

"_Deadweight," _the orc muttered, guiding the staggering human toward the cot. Mikael appeared to be on the verge of passing out...

"_What did you do?" _Tal'Thera whispered, shuffling along behind on her knees - and blushing deeply as the mage tipped Mikael onto the cot and reached for the fastenings of his armor.

"_Thrall's orders were to see that you both rested," _Meraka said simply, deftly stripping off Mikael's armor down to his undershirt - leaving him in his leather pants, however - and leaving it and his boots in a pile at the foot of the cot as she helped him clumsily lay out on his back.

Tal'Thera thought a moment, then gasped. "_The water..."_

_ "Yes. Not stale, but drugged."_

Even as the orc said it Tal'Thera felt a heaviness behind her eyes. "_Meraka, there is but the one bed..."_

_ "I know."_

_ "Then..." _Oh, surely she didn't intend...

Meraka turned to her, offering her a hand up. "_I can take you into another room, if you wish. If you'd rather stay here and sleep...well, I won't say anything."_

Tal'Thera yawned despite herself, ignoring the hand as she crawled to beside the bed, stretching out partially in the floor. "_I...I wish to remain with him though..."_

_ "Good. I was ordered to keep you both together anyhow."_

_ "You are confusing sometimes."_

_ "It is always better to believe you have a choice," _Meraka said. "_I will be back in a few hours with clean robes for you to change into. I highly doubt those few sips you had of the sleeping herbs steeped in that water was enough to force you asleep."_

_ "I was tired to begin with, I am only moderately sleepy now."_

Meraka shook her head, chuckling. "_You'll be fine, mage. Keep watch over him if you wish, sleep in the floor, whatever. Just rest in some way."_

With that the orc left the room, the lock clicking back into place behind her...and Tal'Thera was alone in the room with Mikael.

She rubbed at her eyes again, pulling herself up into a sitting position in the floor beside the bed. Mikael was still laying on his back but was now sleeping soundly thanks to the drugged water; she carefully reached out and brushed stray hair from his forehead, smiling at how boyish he looked when he was resting, at peace. The chain of his necklace caught her eye, and she rose up on her knees over him. Even though the blood elf very much doubted he would wake up, she still was careful as she slid her fingers around the chain and shifted it around his neck until she found the clasp. It was simple enough to remove the necklace then, and then simple enough to watch as Mikael's features reverted to his natural appearance.

Those blue eyes were closed now, thankfully. She'd hate to have to explain why she felt she needed to remove that necklace...they were in Orgrimmar now, he didn't need to live in it after all.

Tal'Thera yawned hugely then, feeling the effects of the sleeping herbs in the water even though she'd barely drank any of it - Mikael had nearly drank half of his mug in a few swallows, no wonder he had passed out so quickly!

She leaned over him to seize one of the folded furs and tug it over him, smoothing it along his body like she was tucking in a small child...then, with every ounce of logic in her mind screaming against it, she slid up onto the bed and stretched out beside him. Her heart was thudding in her chest - why had she been so bold today? What _was _it about this human that both unsettled and intrigued her? She was laying with her back pressed into his side, one arm curled under her own head; there was a fur between him and her, no harm would come from resting beside him.

She wished her brain would believe that, anyhow. Being this close was maddening: his scent, his warmth, the feel of a body next to her. It was alien and frightening, and yet...it was safe here. Perhaps safer than anywhere else she'd been.

'You are a fool, a fool!' a small voice was scolding her. How could she even contemplate doing this?

Heart thudding against her ribs, she shut her eyes and tried to ignore the fact she swore she heard the high snickering of that blasted imp. Her body ached as muscles began to relax, however, and now she seriously considered drinking more of the drugged water just so she didn't have to lay here and feel muscles, previously tightened with stress and fear, twitch and twinge uncomfortably.

All of her tensed as she felt Mikael shift behind her and mumble something incoherent. Carefully Tal'Thera peeked over her shoulder to see that he had merely moved his head on the pillow - she was nearly staring at the back of his head now.

'This is a bad idea, I should move,' she thought to herself, and began to sit up as Mikael muttered again.

"_What are you saying?" _she whispered, looking down at him curiously. The small metal pin, in the shape of a tiny shield, twinkled near his collar - she hadn't thought to remove it, though perhaps she should - and his lips moved almost imperceptibly. Tal'Thera bent to place her ear next to his mouth, holding her hair back over a shoulder.

"_I tried..." _came the first understandable words. The rest was lost to inaudible murmurings, but 'I tried' was definitely something she could make out.

His face was screwed up like he was grimacing in pain...and perhaps he was. He looked like he was having some sort of nightmare, and Tal'Thera bit her lower lip as she wondered if, by Thrall's orders to drug them both, Mikael hadn't just been locked into a bad dream his body couldn't let him wake up from.

Slowly, studying his face the entire time, Tal'Thera slipped a hand beneath the furs and found his right hand, tightening her fingers around it as she drew it up to his chest.

"_I wish I could wake you up from whatever is tormenting you," _she said aloud, gently squeezing his slack hand. "_If you haven't awakened from all my fumbling, I doubt anything I do could do so."_

Carefully she stretched out again, her left hand clutching his right, arm resting across his chest; hardly believing what she was doing, she rested her head against his shoulder and inhaled shakily.

"_Sleep well, Mikael. Don't let the nightmare beat you."_

'This time it's MY turn to protect you,' she thought to herself, giving his fingers another squeeze.

* * *

"_Was leaving them together wise?"_

"_It will be easier to keep an eye on them both, and besides, Tal'Thera was very reluctant to leave his side. How fares Logane?"_

_ "The priests are finally convinced he will survive his injury. The warlock cauterizing the wound when he did likely was the only thing that saved his life."_

_ "That is the first bit of good news we've had in a while. What of the list Mikael acquired?"_

_ "It is...very long. And sadly? I recognize a few of the names."_

_ "Wonderful."_

_ "What do we do, mon? I don't be seeing any connection any more dan either of ya."_

_ "This means we truly DO need to speak to the Alliance. Any of them. Whomever will listen."_

_ "I will contact Jaina. If I know her, regardless of orders to remain silent, she will speak with me. At the very least she will listen if she cannot share information."_

_ "Perhaps a stronger gesture of good will is needed..."_

_ "Whatchoo' mean?"_

_ "A gesture of trust that cannot be ignored. Send me to the Alliance. I can contact my half-brother Roran, he can take me back into Stormwind and-"_

_ "Absolutely not."_

_ "Ya be too valuable, mage."_

_ "My loyalty lies with the Horde, if there is anything I can do to preserve it and its people then I will do it. The act of sending a trusted aide-"_

_ "I cannot order you to go."_

_ "Then don't order, request."_

_ "I will not. I need you here."_

_ "Why?"_

_ "Your knowledge and ability with magic is something I value. You are flexible with your ideas, quick-thinking with your solutions, and your 'little trinkets' as you call them are incredibly useful. Losing you would be a staggering blow to the Horde."_

_ "With all due respect, my Warchief, you're making poor excuses and I ask you don't treat me like an idiotic peon. Anyone can replicate my works from the notes I keep. There are plenty of innovative thinkers among the ranks of the Horde. I am merely one mage among many."_

_ "You are perhaps the only orcish mage in existence."_

_ "Ya, and ya be good at what you do. Tink of your son as well."_

_ "Do not bring my son into this. Do you think for one instant that our ancestors stayed at home just because they had a child to rear? What of honor?"_

_ "Dere be nothin' honorable about willingly walking to ya death."_

_ "Roran will keep me safe."_

_ "Roran, half-brother or not, may not be enough. I'm sorry, but I must refuse to send you."_

_ "You cannot stop me if I go."_

_ "Ya wanna bet on dat?"_

_ "Don't think for one moment that I wouldn't hesitate to blow a Vol'jin-shaped hole through a wall if you try me, lord troll."_

_ "Stop arguing, both of you. I forbid you from carrying through on this ridiculous idea, Meraka. We will find a way to speak to the Alliance before this situation worsens. It is clear this could quickly turn into a crisis for either side - the time of dancing along the knife-edge of war is over. If ever there was a time to push for peace between us all, it is now. This threat must be combated, and to do that there must be communication. I will contact Jaina."_

_ "I hope you are right."_

_ "If he not, we won't be around ta worry about it, one way or anudder."_


	11. Chapter 11

Together they all sat in a circle in a quiet patch of grass just outside of Nighthaven with Pathora in the middle. The druid trainer, Loganaar, had refused to 'hand over' one of the druids living and working in Nighthaven until he understood exactly what Pathora wanted and expected, so the male had grudgingly agreed to share with them what he had shared with Fandral Staghelm.

The male inhaled deeply, then tilted his head as though he were staring at the ground; the white blindfold around his eyes stood out eerily from his face in the twilight of Moonglade, almost as though it weren't actually a part of the night elf. The matching cloth tied to Pathora's upper arm glowed just as bright and made his dented and scratched armor seem all the more dull. He had removed his weapon and laid it in the grass at his feet, and it dimly reflected their faces as they sat in their close circle and waited for the warrior to speak.

"The Emerald Dream is in reality visited by everyone who sleeps," he said finally. "They simply are not able to remember it. It is the source for all dreams. Those who visit the Dream are the source for the Nightmare. They birthed it, brought it about with their own dark fears and machinations they carried to the Emerald Dream. The Nightmare roams the Dream like a bad storm. The combined might of the druids and the green dragons has not stopped it nor have they discovered a way to combat it."

"Recently you might have noticed a great number of mortals have gone missing. Gone without a trace. I can say with certainty they were taken in their sleep. At first I thought the Nightmare to be at fault but there are several problems with this. For one, that great a number of dream entities encountering the Nightmare and becoming trapped is impossible...or was. There is a part of the Nightmare that has ceased moving-"

Saliea gasped quietly, and Loganaar, where he sat with his eyes closed, twitched like he'd been burned.

"-and I do not know why. No green dragon on this side of the Dream knows why. And they cannot contact their brethren within the Dream. They cannot enter it."

"But how?" Saliea muttered, hands clenching in the grass. "The dragons are as much a part of the Dream as the druids..."

"They are more than the druids, but that is another discussion. As I said. It is impossible that that many have fallen prey to the Nightmare. It also does not explain how their physical forms are taken. The body should remain where it is in a comatose sleep. Those creatures that attacked you, Saliea. Those are what becomes of those who disappear. Their minds - souls, perhaps - removed from their bodies and the bodies changed. I do not know how or even why."

"How do you know?" Loganaar asked softly. "How do you know such creatures were once people?"

"When you slay them they revert back to their shape before they disappeared. I have killed more than the one I kept from slaying Saliea."

"Why is there no connection between who is disappearing?"

"Because there truly isn't. Big fish, little fish. Someone casts a net into the river of sleeping mortals. Some swim through. Some swim around. Some are caught."

"Where do they come from?"

Pathora turned his head, adjusting his blindfold as he did, so he faced the male druid; after a moment of studying the other night elf, he reached up and snapped his mask off with a flourish.

"If I knew that I would have solved this problem already by going directly to the source."

Loganaar looked from the mask in Pathora's hand to the massive sword laying in the grass and smiled faintly. "I suppose you would have. Now...why do you need a druid?"

The warrior carefully laid his mask in the grass, scratching at his beard. "The green dragons have been barred from the Emerald Dream. No one knows what occurs on the opposite side. Druids, however, may still come and go freely...for now. No idea if that will change. So, while we still can, we must access the situation. Once we are better informed we can begin to puzzle this all out."

Loganaar settled his hands on his knees, shrugging his shoulders to settle his clothing more comfortably across his back. "If the situation is as dire as that, I shall perform your task myself."

"One moment if you will." Pathora was methodically stripping off his heavy plate armor, laying each battered piece gently aside near his weapon until he was clad in only in mail pants and a threadbare black linen shirt and his boots. "I will accompany you. As I am...not a druid, I need a guide to take me to and from the Dream."

The warrior moved until he was sitting cross-legged across from the male druid, knee to knee with him, and adopted a similar pose of meditation. "Warn me before you slip away." Pathora took a deep breath, then suddenly turned his blind gaze to Saliea. "And you. Go visit your mother's grave. I can feel you burning to do so."

She jumped at being addressed so suddenly. "What? I...well, I'd like to, but don't you think someone should be here? The body of a druid walking the Dream is helpless. Are you not worried about that?"

He turned back around to face Loganaar with a shrug. "Not overly so. If we're snared in the Dream what happens to our bodies should be expected, correct?" he said with a distinctly bitter-sounding chuckle. "Keeping track of my body is the last thing we should be concerned about with what we're about to do."

The little druid merely rolled her eyes and stood, gesturing for Darae to come with her - and of course, Sevei got up and followed, for he didn't need an invitation - and the three of them walked off as the two night elf males settled down and began to slow their breathing.

Pathora slipped from his body quickly and found the ethereal form of Loganaar waiting on him; without a word the druid took his elbow and they faded further, the shape and buildings of Moonglade disappearing as they left the world and began to enter the Dream.

Immediately it was apparent something was wrong. Instead of the verdant, fairyland-like unspoiled world of the Dream, a reflection of how the world _could _have been had mortal races never touched it, there was the unmistakeable feeling of being _pulled, _the location of "where" unknown but a general feeling of dread filled them both and the expected greenery was replaced with indistinct shades of gray that shifted like they were in the center of a cyclone.

'What is happening?' Loganaar asked, appearing to brace himself against the feeling of forward motion. 'This is not the Dream.'

'It is,' Pathora replied sharply, face screwing up like he was squinting into the maelstrom. 'We must - ahhh...'

Pathora doubled over suddenly in pain; it felt like someone had plunged a hot iron into his gut, and the burning sensation was spreading.

Loganaar was instantly tugging at him, pulling them back the way they'd come. 'What is it? What is wrong? ...we must go back.'

'N-no,' Pathora groaned, forcing himself to straighten despite the agony beginning to wrack his body. 'We must p-push forward. W-we must know w-what ails t-the Dream!'

'Look at yourself!' Loganaar suddenly snapped. Pathora obediantly looked down and saw that his dream-form was beginning to blur at the edges, feather out and fall away like he was crumbling to dust. 'We MUST go back!'

'P-push on!' Pathora ordered, but Loganaar was shaking his head. With a growl the warrior instead seized the druid and knocked his legs out from under them, allowing the sensation of the current to carry them along deeper into the gray mists.

'This is madness!'

'We must know! W-whatever ails me d-does not touch you. W-whatever b-befalls me we m-must know!'

The further he sensed they moved, the worse the pain got for the warrior. He was panting, sweating, and feeling like he was fighting to hold his very essence together...and that's when he realized that that was exactly the problem: whatever was interfering with the Dream and capturing mortals was most likely tailored to rip apart anyone connected with the dragons in any way. Somberly he wondered how many of the green dragons, when innocently entering the Dream as was their habit, had been torn apart by the unexpected changes taking place...and now he wondered if _he _would survive this trip, but he HAD to find out how the green dragons on this side of the Dream fared!

A shape suddenly exploded out of the nothingness at them and Loganaar seized this opportunity to pin Pathora's arms to his sides and begin to drag them backward.

'This is suicide! We are going back!'

'Wait! Look!' Pathora snapped, lunging for the shape that even now headed in their direction.

A dragon flew for them, almost as indistinct as the mists that swirling crazily around it. Druid and warrior paused and it came to them, and they could see that it held one arm close to its chest and its wings were full of holes, its green hide unnaturally dull and its very image faded around the edges like someone had tried rubbing out a bad stain.

'Brother ally,' the dragon shouted, like it were very far away even though it had to have been no more than fifteen feet away when it finally spoke. 'She of the Dreaming is fine and guarded. The halted segment of the Nightmare has - the corruption of the Nightmare has changed in nature - it no longer changes the Dream it touches but instead focuses on all dreamers who stray into it.'

'And the d-dragons?' Pathora asked, trying very hard not to curl in on himself and allowing Loganaar to remain hanging on to one arm.

'The dragons have been divided. Those who enter are ripped to shreds and their essences dispersed across the Dream like sand in the wind. Those who were here when the change occurred cannot leave for fear of the same fate. Only the very strongest of us can come close to the border of waking and dreaming. The dragonsworn of the green flight are less effected, unable to fully enter but able to come this far. The druids alone can come and go, so long as they aren't captured. Whatever this is forms a solid barrier around the Dream proper, a chaotic wall only the druids can pass through.'

'Why are the druids unaffected?'

'If they couldn't enter, then they wouldn't make effective prey like all else, and - look out!'

The two night elves spun around as the dragon snarled; behind them other shapes were emerging from the mists and rushing for them - more of those blasted reptilian beasts.

'We are h-h-horribly in d-danger here I f-fear,' Pathora gasped, bending over in a futile effort to lessen the pain so he could have half at chance at fighting back.

He needn't have bothered, it turned out; the dragon rushed by them and attacked, swinging free hand and tail, snapping with sharp teeth. Within moments it had crushed the beasts like insects, the much-bigger dragon easily overpowering the skittering monsters. Panting slightly, it turned back to them.

'The disturbance is not here, but in your world. You must find and stop it.'

'How?' Loganaar asked. 'We don't know a thing about any of this!'

'Take this and go!' the dragon said, and whatever it held in the hand held to its chest was suddenly tossed at them.

Whatever it was slammed into them at a high speed and forced them back; with a jarring impact they found themselves back into their bodies, laying in a heap with something heavy on top of them.

Pathora wormed his way out from under whatever it was and curled in on himself; his chest and stomach were on fire, and he didn't have the concentration needed to call forth some sort of healing magic to ease the pain. His vision was rapidly narrowing into a dark tunnel that he fought against - gods he _hated _losing consciousness...

Loganaar struggled up into a sitting position, several things on his mind and all demanding attention. First and foremost, however, was the problem of an adult male blood elf laying across him that had certainly NOT been there when they had entered the Dream. His mind flashed on the image of the dragon throwing something to them, and the size of the dragon made it believable that it could have held the blood elf cradled in its hand, concealed from immediate view...but he'd never in his life heard of a being moving between places via the Emerald Dream aside from Malfurion Stormrage. This blood elf didn't even look like a druid; he was clad in teal and silver-black robes with matching spiked shoulderguards, gloves, and boots. His hair was black and stuck up in spikes from the back of his head, he had a neatly trimmed goatee, and he had no visible weapons - not that that said anything about how dangerous he might be. A spellcaster of some sort was obvious.

The blood elf blinked and sat up, said something in his native tongue, then scrambled on hands and knees several yards away and was violently sick. Loganaar was now torn between tending to the blood elf, or tending to Pathora whom he had just noticed was curled into a tight ball; he opted to see first to the warrior, and was saved from having to deal with both males as several attendants rushed up to them.

"My lord Loganaar!"

"You, see to the blood elf. You two, help me with this one here," Loganaar ordered quickly, bending over the prone warrior. Pathora was now bleeding from the nose and panting hoarsely, eyes squeezed shut, and the druids hurried to heal the ailing male.

"My lord...you should see this."

One of the attendants was calling him. Loganaar looked up and saw him - a male with hair the color of an evergreen and an impressive handlebar mustache - waving frantically from where he stood over the blood elf.

More druids - and other non-druid residents of Nighthaven, attracted by the growing group - arrived and so Loganaar left Pathora in the company of four other druids and came over to join the green-haired male beckoning him; the blood elf was being supported by the other druid he'd assigned to help him, a white-haired female and she was gently wiping his mouth with a handkerchief. The male druid bowed deeply to him as he knelt to get a better look at the pale, shaking blood elf.

"Where in Azeroth did you come from..." Loganaar muttered, shaking his head. The female was talking to the blood elf in Darnassian - he knew neither could understand the other, but at least she was making the attempt to calm the male down. As it was, the blood elf was still shaking uncontrollably and even looked a tad feverish, and Loganaar couldn't blame him - he certainly hadn't _started_ his day in Moonglade, but he was definitely going to end it here.

"My lord," the druid repeated. "There is something..."

He was gesturing at where the blood elf had become sick; there in the grass was was puddle of unnaturally green bile. The attendant was gesturing at the sick and Loganaar took a deep breath before leaning closer to it, and there saw what the druid was pointing at. Glinting in the vomit was...something. He took another deep breath, reached down and fished the 'something' out; resting in his palm was a jagged piece of crystal that was about the same color as the roiling mists they'd encountered in the Emerald Dream, about the length and width of his smallest finger.

"Bring them," Loganaar said finally, resisting the urge to wipe his fingers on his clothing. The crystal shard in his palm pulsed malevolently with its own inner light; whatever it was, it had come from the Dream, he was sure of it.

The blood elf was staring blankly, not seeming to notice as the green-haired druid and the white-haired female carefully lifted him between them and began to carry him back toward Nighthaven - Pathora had already been borne away. Loganaar glared down at the crystal in his hand...the world had just gotten a lot more confusing.

"Someone seek out and fetch the druidess Saliea," he said as he turned and began to follow the rest, not ordering anyone in particular but knowing his orders would be carried out nonetheless. "And please tell Bessany Plainswind that I require her."

* * *

The gravestone was overgrown with fragrant moon lilies, Donnovan's handy work. Saliea smiled and reached out to pat the stone fondly, Sevei standing respectively a few steps behind with Darae standing with him.

"Whose grave is this?" Darae asked quietly after several moments of quiet.

"This is her mother's grave," Sevei answered quietly.

Darae blinked solemnly, twitching like he'd been poked. "She's an orphan too?"

"Uh...well. She was at one point, for a very short time. It's rather a complicated story," the draenei said with a sort of helpless chuckle. "Come on, let's go sit by the lake and let her visit."

Darae shuffled his feet as he followed the shaman, occasionally glancing over his shoulder as they retreated from the grave. Finally they were on the shore of Lake Elune'Ara, and Sevei sat down with Darae sitting a few feet from him; the shaman looked out over the still surface of the water, inhaling deeply.

Darae mirrored him, liking the earthy scent of the mud ringing the lake; it was nice here, it felt peaceful and calm, much like the lake surface was. The clean blue water reminded him of his dad's hair, always held back in an unruly ponytail with a leather thong, and thinking of his dad made him think of the stories he'd told at bedtime. There was, sleeping somewhere in the depths of the water, some big white beast named Omen according to his papa...someday the beast would rise and attack the druids, and it had always given Darae a little thrill to picture himself fighting such a terrifying monster and coming out the victorious hero in the end.

He jumped when he realized Sevei was studying him quietly, and he squirmed under the gaze.

"So...was shan'do an orphan?" Darae finally asked.

"She began her life as one," Sevei replied, turning back to look out over the lake. "Her mother died in childbirth, and the man who fathered her had been missing for some time, presumed dead. On her deathbed, Saliea's mother Salindra had Fandral Staghelm vow to watch over her daughter...I believe she wished for him to raise her, but in the name of protecting her from his enemies Fandral gave her away to another family. She has a brother, Tebrion, and two parents who love her dearly that both live in Darnassus, but five years ago she was reunited with her father Donnovan. All this time she has been getting to know him, and he is trying to become the father he wished he could have been."

"...shan'do has a large family then," Darae said quietly.

Sevei chuckled. "I suppose you could say that. She is learning to deal with the fact she has three fathers, each one as different from the others as they could possibly be."

Darae suddenly blanched. "She's got Lord Staghelm for a da? I don't like him...he scares me."

"I don't think there's a single person on Azeroth - or beyond - that hasn't said that at least once in their life," the shaman remarked dryly.

The boy dug his fingers into the damp soil beneath him, digging furrows with his fingertips. Saliea had a big family...Darae didn't even know where his was _at. _ Thinking such made him miss his dad, made him miss both his parents to the point he inhaled sharply and had to will himself not to cry again; he felt ridiculous, crying...he was too old for it, he thought. Slowly he ground the heels of his palms into his eyes until the sensation passed, and looked up to see Sevei looking at him again.

"Darae," the shaman said slowly. "Have you...thought about what you will do, once I have found a way to contact your relatives?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." The shaman paused, hands moving like he meant to pull his words from the air itself. "I mean, if...if you wish to remain in Darnassus, to pursue your studies as a druid...you are welcome to remain with Saliea and I." A long moment of silence passed. "It is your choice, you understand, but the offer remains. You will have a home with us for as long as you wish."

Darae was staring at him strangely. "But what if my relatives want to take me away?"

"You are old enough now to choose your life's path - if you do not wish to leave I personally will ensure you are not taken."

Again, Darae dug his hands into his eyes, swallowing hard. "Thanks..." After a moment he sniffled, then started laughing quietly. "I want to be a good student. I want to make my shan'do proud of me...I don't want to leave, this is the only place where I remember doing the growing up I've done."

Sevei reached out to gently pat his shoulder. "Trust me, you've a lot of growing up left to do." He opened his mouth, like he intended to continue speaking, but then snapped his attention back behind them in the approximate direction of the road; several minutes later a rider approached them - _how _the night elf on the back of the nightsaber located them, Darae could only guess - but the warden pulled his mount up short and quickly saluted in greeting.

"Your pardon, shaman, but Loganaar has requested I return to Nighthaven with your wife in tow. Where is she?"

"She is back with her mother's grave. What is wrong?"

"Pathora and Loganaar have...returned from the Emerald Dream. Things did not go well, plus we acquired a...guest. It will be easier if we all return and everything can be explained in detail better than I can give you."

Sevei pushed himself to his feet. "Run back and tell them we shall be along soon."

The warden looked uncertain, but nevertheless bowed and returned the way he'd come.

"Come, Darae. It appears we are needed."

* * *

The black tauren, clad in robes of brilliant green and gold and with short, scruffy hair, folded Saliea's hands in her own, smiling down at her. "_Saliea Silvermist. I have not seen you in a while." _Her gaze drifted over the druid's shoulder and she nodded politely at Sevei and Darae, both standing behind Saliea.

_ "Hello Bessany," _Sal replied, returning the smile as Darae bowed shortly and Sevei nodded to the tauren. "_I've been...busy elsewhere recently. What has happened? Whomever was sent to fetch us told Sevei nothing about why we needed to come back in such a hurry."_

The tauren snorted, her wide flat nostrils flaring in what Sal could only assume was annoyance - tauren were rather hard to read with their bovine features - and shrugged her shoulders. "_I don't think he knows more than any of the rest of us."_

_ "Where are Loganaar and Pathora?"_

_ "The former is attending to the latter. They had some problems in the Dream, and Pathora is currently unconscious."_

"_What?" _Saliea snapped, stepping back from the tauren. "_Can you take me to them?"_

_ "Loganaar has requested something else of you - of us both, actually - first though," _Bessany replied, dropping Saliea's hands and gesturing for the druid to follow. "_Your two boys there are welcome to come or stay as they please."_

Sal looked back at the two, raising an eyebrow at Sevei; the shaman shook his head shortly and rested a hand on Darae's shoulder, keeping the boy from following. Saliea nodded in silent agreement with the shaman's decision and then turned to hurry after Bessany, who was plodding along at a pace that spoke of the tauren purposely taking her time. She quickened her strides, however, when Saliea reached her side and together the two females wound their way over the walkways and footbridges of Nighthaven, heading for the very southern border of the town; here on the very edge of Nighthaven stood a very small dwelling, not big enough to possess more than two rooms hardly bigger than a closet it seemed. Bessany strode purposely toward the dwelling despite the amount of Moonglade wardens, the town's guardians, standing guard around it.

She calmly waved away the two wardens standing before the door and entered, Saliea right behind her; the druid had to blink to adjust her eyesight to the change in light when the tauren shut the door but immediately she was aware of how cramped the room they stood in was, considerably bigger than it had appeared from the outside but still quite small, maybe ten feet long by six feet wide.

'At least the ceiling is high enough,' Saliea thought to herself, feeling faintly claustrophobic and wondering why Bessany had brought her out here to what she was now thinking was a hastily converted storage shed.

She looked around once her eyes had adjusted - it appeared to be typical night elf architecture, nothing special about it...but then she noted that to her left was a cot and in that cot was an individual, and as she noticed this a familiar smell reached her nose.

"_Loganaar and Pathora did not return alone from the Emerald Dream," _Bessany said softly, gesturing to the cot, her words distracting Saliea from placing the smell she'd detected.

There was a blood elf blinking up at them, and when he saw that they had noticed him he sat up, hair disheveled like he'd just awakened and a sour look on his face. He was stripped bare to the waist and seemed to self-consciously pull the light sheet he'd been laying under up around his shoulders; there was barely room for the cot he lay on and a small bedside table in the corner, on which a pile of cloth that had to be his clothing rested, but Bessany deftly moved into the small space and bent to speak with him. After a moment of quiet conversation, the tauren gestured for Saliea to come forward.

"_He promises not to bite."_

Sal smiled despite herself - a blood elf, bite her? Unlikely. - and came forward, extending her hand to him; he stared at it warily a moment before taking it briefly.

"_I won't hurt you," _Sal said clearly - smiling again when the blood elf looked at her in surprise.

"_He hasn't much to say,_" Bessany said, standing straight. "_But I will let him tell you himself."_

'Tell me what?' Saliea wondered, but turned her attention to the elf nonetheless. "_Why don't we start with a name? Mine is Saliea."_

_ "Ki'tryn. You uh, you can call me Pit, though. Nickname from childhood...I'd appreciate if you don't ask how." _ He let out a hiss - he'd burped, she realized - and his sour look deepened. "_Excuse me, my stomach is a bit upset still."_

She nodded as he shifted on the cot. "_Pit, then. How did you get here?"_

_ "If I knew I'd tell you, trust me," _Pit said, sounding faintly irritated. "_I've been asked that question no less than five times since I got...to wherever _here _is, and I'm sorry, I have no answer."_

_ "Fair enough, sorry to badger you."_

_ "It's not badgering if five different people ended up asking it, but it's no less annoying to think of it that way," _Pit said dryly. "_A question for YOU then: where AM I?"_

_ "Nighthaven, in Moonglade."_

Pit let out a small noise, somewhere between the sound of a strangled rabbit and a hiss, and shook his head. "_You don't say..."_

_ "Why?"_

_ "Because I...hang on. Let me think a moment," _the blood elf muttered, running a hand through his mussed hair, then began to count off on his fingers as he began to speak again. "_Okay...day started. I woke up. Got dressed. I was in Thunderbluff, left Thunderbluff. Headed east to gain passage from Ratchet across the sea. Almost midday. Laid down under a tree somewhere in the northwestern part of the Barrens to take a nap. Fell asleep...fell asleep..." _ Pit repeated this last part to himself a few times more, brow furrowed in concentration. "_The rest is fuzzy, and easily guessable I suppose. I woke up here. The _how _is anyone's guess."_

Saliea looked up at Bessany, the tauren's face unreadable as she regarded the blood elf. "_He started his day in the Barrens? Midday? That's several hours unaccounted for, no possible way to get from there to here in that amount of time."_

_ "Unless aided by magic," _Bessany said evenly. "_A question I was just reminded of, Pit. Loganaar wished for me to find out what it was you said upon arriving here."_

Pit blinked up at her in confusion a moment, then twitched and actually looked embarrassed. "_Oh, that. Uh. Well, I don't recall _exactly _what I said, but it was along the lines of 'where the hell am I?' and 'excuse me, I'm going to be ill.'"_

Saliea covered her mouth with a hand to avoid laughing aloud at him as Bessany gently patted his shoulder. "_An honest answer, I do believe. Continue to rest, we'll be back to speak with you again later."_

_ "I'm in Nighthaven, yes?" _he called after them as they shuffled for the door. "_Where in Nighthaven?"_

_ "Southern border," _the tauren answered. "_You are heavily guarded, do not worry."_

_ "...why guarded?"_

_ "Locals do not like warlocks," _the tauren said matter-of-factly. "_They don't exactly have a favorable past here."_

_ "Noted," _the elf muttered, reaching for his robes. "_Whom is guarding against whom, I wonder?"_

Bessany chuckled. "_Perhaps a bit of both. You may rest or get dressed as you feel, we shall return later with arrangements to send you wherever you wish to go."_

_ "Thank you," _Pit said, inhaling deeply. "_If you could, could someone bring me some water? I feel like my mouth is full of sawdust and it tastes just as bad."_

_ "I'll send someone." _The tauren ushered Saliea from the room and they wound their way through the group of wardens outside and began to head back into Nighthaven, both females plodding along in silence.

"_I suppose now is as good a time as ever to mention this," _Bessany said finally. "_There were peculiar circumstances surrounding Pit's arrival here." _

"_You mean besides miraculously getting here supposedly through the Emerald Dream?"_

Bessany laughed quietly, shaking her head. "_Well, yes, you have a point. I'm taking you to Loganaar and Pathora now, and they will explain in better detail than I can, but Pit carried something from the Dream with him - inside him, to be more exact. He ejected it shortly after coming to."_

_ "Let me guess...when he was so politely sick?" _Saliea said dryly. "_What did he...carry?"_

_ "I'm not certain, Loganaar was not specific before I was asked to care for the blood elf. I believe he mentioned some sort of crystal, however."_

_ "I'm guessing something small enough to be swallowed."_

Bessany simply nodded and pointed to the building in almost the exact center of the town, a wide, multilevel structure. "_They were taken there."_

_ "There's a disturbing lack of guards."_

_ "You would be foolish to attack someone in the middle of a city."_

_ "I suppose an army of guards wouldn't help you if a single assassin tried making his way in anyhow."_

_ "You believe someone is after the two males?"_

Saliea shrugged. "_It's hard to believe anything lately."_

Moments later Saliea was climbing up a steep ramp - night elves didn't seem to care for stairs at all - and found herself in a living area with three beds and little else, one of which held the curled up form of Pathora in it with Loganaar sitting attentively at his side. Bessany had disappeared, leaving Saliea standing alone at the top of the ramp looking in as the other druid looked up at her.

"Ah, they found you quickly, that is good," Loganaar said in way of greeting.

Saliea nodded to him and hurried over, bending to look down at Pathora curiously. "What happened?"

The druid blew out a long breath. "Something I would not have believed, had I not been there myself. The Dream is in absolute chaos, like a great storm has it in its grips. It was something akin to being on a ship tossed at sea...akin to it to my sight, anyhow. I saw, but I did not feel...whatever it was, however, had a rather nasty effect on our friend here," he said, gesturing to the warrior in the bed. "He woke a moment ago, sputtered something in a language foreign to me, then fell back asleep."

"What is the Dream like now?" Saliea asked, beginning to prowl around the room in search of a chair or something to sit on. Loganaar seemed rather calm, not worried about the state of the other night elf in the bed, so she saw little reason for her to make a fuss over it, not right now anyhow.

Loganaar stuck his foot under the bed and pulled out a low footstool, offering it to her. "All swirling gray mists and chaos, nothing at all like what it should be. The closer we traveled to where I knew the barrier between waking and dreaming was, the more adversely affected Pathora was. Whatever is happening was certainly causing him a great deal of pain, and is apparently killing green dragons that attempt to pass through it themselves."

"But it didn't affect you?" she repeated, settling down on the footstool.

Loganaar shook his head. "Not at all. I felt _pulled _somewhere, but I did not feel any pain or suffer anything. And what's worse is those creatures described to me _attacked _us while we were in the Dream."

Saliea's eyes grew wide. Those things, in the Dream itself?!

"A dragon, by some miracle, managed to find us and crushed the beasts like they were nothing, but he spoke as though there were plenty where those had come from, and it was from him that blood elf was sent back with us."

"...he sent Pit back with you?"

"Not so much 'sent' as he gave us little choice in the matter. He threw the elf at us and that in turn threw all of us from the Dream."

Sal glanced down at Pathora. "Likely a good thing, if dunderhead there was in pain."

Loganaar chuckled, then his expression immediately grew more serious. "This is something that cannot be ignored in any sense of the word. Dragons are dying if they try to cross the barrier - the green that spoke with us and delivered the blood elf into our hands mentioned that only the strongest of the greens could even approach the barrier from either side. This does not bode well, and something even more puzzling is apparently druids can come and go as they will without feeling any ill effects."

"Then why was Pathora affected? Did the dragon say that regular people caught in the barrier suffered as well?" Saliea was beginning to get a headache even as she said it - this was all just getting more confusing. Pathora had his big-fish-little-fish theory, if you could call it that, but he'd said nothing about any pain or anything afflicting those who 'swam through the net.' In fact, it now seemed directly contradicted by Loganaar's description of a chaotic barrier - how could anyone get through that without being caught?

Loganaar seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "I think...our friend here is not all he seems. I believe he may be a dragonsworn."

Sal blinked at him in silence a moment. "...a dragonsworn, you say?"

"Yes. I have never met one personally, but the dragon's words and Pathora's condition make me believe he may be one. The dragon in the Dream said dragons and dragonsworn were affected while druids were not...the only thing he _could _be is a dragonsworn, otherwise there is little explanation as to why he could not enter the Dream on his own – if he were a dragon, he would not need a druid. Someone that closely tied to a dragonflight would share their characteristics, and perhaps even a small bit of their essence. That would explain why he was injured and I was not, and also why he needed the assistance of a druid."

Simply shaking her head, Saliea stood and began to pace. "I think the more we pry the worse all this seems to get. Humans have a point when they say ignorance is bliss..." He let her pace silently, and she chewed over everything she'd just heard; one thing was for certain, however...

Loganaar seemed to sense her train of thought. "I have already requested he come right away."

"Then I think I'd better run back for Darnassus," Saliea said dryly. "I can picture the fight now...Fandral has a habit of being a father figure only when he feels it suits him."

"Well, you did directly disobey him by coming here," Loganaar said quietly.

Sal looked at him, saw him trying not to laugh. "Oh, shut up. It's not like it's the first time I've ever not listened to the cranky hornhead." Despite herself, she began to laugh and his serious countenance gave way to laughter as well. "Boy...what have I gotten myself into?"

"I think it would be easier to list what you _haven't _gotten into."

"Yes yes, I'm aware of my reputation for trouble. Name me one child who wasn't a mischievous pain in the ass."

Loganaar shook his head, still chuckling. "I think in this situation it is better to laugh anyway, lest we go insane with stress."

Their laughter died down after a moment and they sat in silence, both mulling over what they'd learned. Saliea wasn't looking forward to a confrontation with the Archdruid - she'd disobeyed him big time this time - and was seriously considering collecting her husband and student and heading back to Darnassus before Staghelm arrived, but that would only be delaying the inevitable. The same part screaming at her to avoid the Archdruid at all costs was also amplifying the urge to simply stay out of it all, take her loved ones and hide from this new mess; unconsciously she splayed a hand across where her child lay developing in her womb, thinking hard on what it would take to keep it safe from harm.

But, of course, she couldn't just run from whatever this situation was turning into: she'd been attacked by those monsters once, there wasn't any reason why _she _of all people should be attacked, and by the sounds of things even falling asleep was incredibly dangerous anymore...and thinking _that _brought a faint sensation of nausea to her - if they weren't even safe in their sleep, then what WAS safe anyhow? Even if she _could _in good conscious stay out of this she had nowhere to possibly hide herself or anyone else she cared for.

No, the only way to see the world as a safe place again would be to help combat this threat. She couldn't sit idly by and merely hope to be left alone, not after having been attacked.

"One more thing, Saliea," Loganaar finally said, breaking into her thoughts. He was reaching beneath his feet, beneath the short chair he sat on and picking up off the floor a heavy linen handkerchief which he held delicately, like it was something foul he didn't want to touch. "I wish for as many opinions as possible... What do you make of this?"

He unwrapped the handkerchief and held it out to her, and there in the folds of cloth rested a cloudy gray shard of crystal, hardly longer than two inches and no wider than a finger and seemingly glowing with its own sickly inner light. Immediately a few smells reached her as she bent for a closer look, one of them the strong scent of bile and the other one that was familiar that she couldn't immediately place, but knew that she had smelled it only a short while ago...but where?

"Mikael..."

She twitched as the name fell from her lips, an odd bit of information managing to surface amongst the confusion: that smell she'd noted just before meeting Pit, the one that had seemed so familiar. It was familiar because it was the same scent - or maybe just a feeling - she noticed when she was around the human warlock. Pit had that same scent - if it could even be called a true scent, for now it seemed more like a sixth sense-sort of feeling - and Bessany had clearly said the blood elf was a warlock.

After several minutes she looked up to see Loganaar studying her intently, and she blew out a sigh.

"Sorry, I...it feels, smells, demonic."

Without further explanation she turned on her heel and marched away, rubbing at her temples as behind her Loganaar cautiously sniffed at the crystal. She was down the ramp and out the door before she knew it, and had to stop and get her bearings and wonder where Sevei and Darae had disappeared to all while trying to organize everything she'd just heard in her mind into something sensible.

'Okay, start at the beginning...well, _make _a beginning,' she told herself as she headed north. There was a wooden observation platform stretching out over the water that fell down into Lake Elune'Ara, it was usually quiet there and easily visible from most anywhere in Nighthaven, so she was certain she could get some thinking done there while increasing her chances at locating Sevei and Darae.

'Beginning...beginning...' she chanted mentally as she arrived at the platform and crossed to the segment that stretched out over the water. Nimbly she climbed up on the guard rail and perched there, hooking feet beneath the lowest crossbar to keep herself from toppling over; there was only a single other night elf, a male, up here and he was facing off the other direction and so Sal paid him little notice as she stared out over the waterfall.

'Beginning. People began disappearing without a trace. Pathora arrives, looking to speak to the Archdruid about a problem in the Emerald Dream. Who is Pathora? He is Pathora the Blind Fighter, a kaldorei legend, and now we suspect he's a dragonsworn but he won't likely confirm or deny this. We are told the disappearances are directly linked to the problem - people are being captured while they are asleep and their bodies transformed. Where do the captured essences of the people go? Don't know. Green dragons, unless they are powerful specimens of their species, are being trapped or destroyed. Druids are immune to this destruction, again we don't know why, but we _are _disappearing like everyone else. Monsters are attacking people - are they behind the disappearances? Sevei mentioned that Pathora said I was being dragged...did I nearly disappear like the rest of them? That doesn't make sense, actually - everyone else had their bodies snatched while their minds were already gone, I am wholly here still.'

As though to confirm it she ran hands over her body, fingers lingering over the leg that had been torn to shreds in her battle against the reptilian beasts.

'Mostly whole, anyway,' she thought with grim amusement. 'Loganaar and Pathora were attacked in the Dream. A dragon spoke with them - if the dragon was able to meet them at the barrier, was it one trying to get in or one trying to get out? I probably should have asked that, even though I think Loganaar would have said something if he'd known. This dragon confirms that the disappearances are linked with the Dream, and somehow, some_ way_, manages to throw our guest Ki'tryn, also known as Pit, out of the Dream along with Loganaar and Pathora. Pit is carrying inside him - quickly made _outside _of him - a crystal that stinks of demonic energies. Weird coincidence, or something carried over from probably nearly disappearing into the Dream like everyone else?'

Suddenly feeling like her mind's momentum had just carried her face-first into a wall, Saliea rubbed at her temples again; she had a nice-sized headache brewing, and now that she was focusing on herself she realized her stomach was growling. Yet another thing that occurred to her - as she carefully climbed off the rail and headed back for the town proper - was to remember to ask if the dragon had said anything about what it had been doing at the barrier. Whether it was attempting to go in or out wasn't so important as the _why _it had been at the borders of waking and dreaming in the first place; was it trying to protect dreamers, evidenced by its rescue of Pit? Perhaps that was just luck on the dragon's part, that it actually caught someone about to disappear...

She about jumped out of her own skin when a hand gently touched her shoulder; spinning around she saw with mixed relief and annoyance that it was Sevei, Darae at his elbow.

"A bit jumpy, are we?" the draenei chuckled, wrapping her in a hug.

"Where have you been?" she asked in reply, voice muffled from where she was pressed in against his chest.

"Walking."

"Well, while you were off walking..."


	12. Chapter 12

He was walking down a crowded street, people pushing in on him from every side. It was reminiscent of Stormwind's marketplace, a wide space full of the noises and movements of everyone going about their own separate business, but other times it just seemed like a long, narrowed hallway, claustrophobic and suffocating. Alternately there was soft carpet and plain stone beneath his feet, and sometimes it was regular cobblestone, adding further to the confusion of where he actually was and he had to be careful not to trip over his own feet as he walked...where?

Every so often he saw his face in the crowd - identical to his own, if he were nearly a decade older, with a neatly trimmed beard and a bald head - and so he turned from it. He had no need to speak with it, he knew what it would say to him. It was always the same words, just as it was always the same face and as always he had to fight to make sure it stayed _that _face and not his own...the disorienting fear of looking into a mirror threatened to overcome the delicate balance of reason and guilt in his mind every time the face leapt out of the otherwise unrecognizable mob of people that surrounded him.

"You left me there."

"I know I did."

"You killed me, then you left me to rot."

"I tried to find you. We all did."

"You _killed _me."

Now the face was following him, breathing down his neck hot and heavy, voice full of anger and accusation. Hurriedly he quickened his pace, just wishing he could leave it behind him, lose himself in the crowd and rid himself of the guilt that always came with the voice.

"You forced me to," he said softly. "I tried."

"You never found my body."

"I know I didn't. Had I did I would have at least buried you."

"You killed me."

"You killed our mother. You tried killing father. You were a danger to everyone...I _had _to kill you."

A low chuckle from behind, so close it ruffled his hair. "You _never _found my body."

"I TRIED!" he snapped, spinning around. The confused glances of the nameless people met him, left him, and they moved on.

'Another crazy fool,' 'Murderer,' 'Hearing things, what an idiot,' 'Dirty warlock,' 'Filthy dark magics,' 'Feed him to his own dark master like the rest of his kind,' 'How was someone like _that_ ever a holy warrior?' 'His poor father, it's a wonder the man hasn't died of shame,' 'Son? He has no love of his father if he turned his back on the Light.'

Whispers in the crowd, whispers that haunted him here and in the waking world. No one knew the truth, no one cared to listen. Again he quickened his pace until he was as close to running as he was going to get, roughly shouldering his way through the people as the same chuckling, mocking, accusing voice seemed to gleefully chant behind him, always just over a shoulder it seemed.

"You never found my body, you never found my body, you _never _found my body!"

"Leave me alone!"

Suddenly a stronger shoulder than his hit him and he stumbled far more than he should have and ended up face-first on the ground, the coppery scent of blood in his nose and its taste in his mouth. Gingerly he dabbed at his busted lip - he'd bitten it in his fall - and climbed to his feet to see a ring of faceless people around him.

"Wretched dark user!"

"Traitor to the Light!"

"We don't need your kind here!"

"Go rot!"

"You're wretched!"

"Take your darkness elsewhere!"

Every way he turned was filled with harsh shouts and cruel laughter, and he felt much, much smaller than he should have been, like he was suddenly a child once more.

"N-no, it's not like that!" he shouted back, his own pitiful shouts drowned out by the horde around him. "I never wanted this!"

A small pebble skipped off his shoulder, and soon other rocks followed, gradually growing in size until they began to leave bleeding welts where they struck. Part of the crowd pelting him was _him, _he could see _him _standing in the mass of faceless cruelty, grinning and laughing and joining in.

"You abandoned your only family!"

"You're worthless!"

"Killed your own brother!"

"How could you?"

Rocks still bouncing off him, he merely sank to his knees and covered his head with his hands. He didn't mean to, he didn't mean any of it, he just wanted his family back together and to live a quiet life. Where was the Light? Would he ever see it again? He was so tired of fighting, what was there to fight for anymore?

"You never found my body."

"SHUT. UP!" he roared, leaping to his feet and charging at the one man he knew in the crowd, and the one he knew was the reason he didn't sleep at night, the reason his family was all but gone, and the reason he'd lost the favor of the Light and would never gain it back.

"SHUT UP!"

As he had a few times before, when the nightmares had run unusually long, Mikael killed his brother a second time, and the corpse laughed up into his face.

* * *

From the moment he managed to pry open his eyelids a crack, Mikael was determined to get up and shove that pitcher - with or without the water in it still - down Thrall's throat. An echoing of laughter was still ringing in his ears as he stared up at a plain wood and earth ceiling, blinking to try and get rid of the heavy, gritty feeling plaguing his eyes.

He was flat on his back, arm above his head and tucked under something that barely served as a pillow, so Meraka must have moved him to the bed; there was something heavy laying on his chest, something on his shoulder, and from what he could tell by moving his feet he was without his boots and most likely his armor...thankfully, he could feel his pants were still in place, Meraka hadn't stripped him _completely, _thank the Light.

A breeze on his chin, coming in regular intervals, seemed to blow his direction the faintest scent of peacebloom, and his muddled mind finally pieced together that Tal'Thera was still in the room with him...and he found himself praying the orc hadn't stripped him with her present - he could feel his face reddening just thinking about it. She must be sitting nearby for him to smell her, maybe there was a window open and that's why he...

Out of the corner of his eye he had caught sight of red. Really nearby. Probably on his shoulder, in fact...

Swallowing hard, Mikael craned his neck and stared down into a mess of red hair, Tal'Thera's breath warm on his face and her scent overwhelming his sleep-drugged mind.

'What was IN that water?!'

He felt a surge of anxiety - what then, exactly, had happened after he stupidly drank that drugged water? Again he blinked as his vision went a tad blurry; he imagined that the weight across his chest was partially the blood elf and that didn't help his anxiety at all. Sitting up just enough to look down the length of his body, Mikael saw her arm was flung across him and she lay on her side pressed up to him, head resting against his shoulder. He was covered with a fur - a pelt wildly patterned in black and brown spots - and she was not, so...maybe she'd just gotten cold? Surely she'd just gotten cold...oh _please _let her just have gotten cold, for the alternative wasn't something he wanted to think about.

She was hugging herself to him, he found out, as he tried to carefully disentangle them without waking her; after a very long, agonizing process of gently moving her arm and sliding out from beneath her head Mikael was finally perched on the end of the bed, slightly lightheaded and groggy. He could see his boots tucked under the edge of the bed, hoped his armor was with it, and then sat and waited until he felt he could stand without staggering.

Several more minutes later found him staring at the blood elf in the bed. She was still curled on her side, both hands now tucked under her head and still sleeping soundly - at least she was sleeping peacefully, that was something. Carefully he reached up and twitched the fur over her; now it was folded in half but still covered her slender form fully. If - no, _since -_ she was cold, now she wouldn't be.

Or so he told himself.

Carefully he stood, tested his balance and decided he could walk without stumbling around, and walked around the edge of the bed to retrieve his boots and armor then went and sat on the low table since there weren't any chairs in the room.

His leather chestpiece he pulled on first, brushing off dust it'd picked up from the floor as he fastened the clasps and ties, then stuck a foot down into a boot - then pulled back out again with a grunt. Something hard was in it and he'd rolled his sole across it; he rubbed at his foot, massaging away the sting, with one hand as he lifted his boot and dumped it out with the other. The disguising necklace hit the floor with a muffled thud and Mikael sighed heavily - damn thing had hurt, good thing he'd found it before he'd actually stood up...

Sighing, Mikael reached down and picked it up, letting it dangle from his fingers by the chain, boots momentarily forgotten. Would he need to wear this here, in Orgrimmar, while under Thrall's protection? Maybe he should regardless of whether he had to or not...just because he knew _some _Horde that wished for peace didn't mean a vast majority of the rest of the Horde did. Recalling that Thrall mentioned a fraction of the Horde accused Thrall of siding with the Alliance over his own people spurred him to almost slip the necklace over his head even though the only member of the Horde within sight was Tal'Thera.

Mikael didn't want to start a war - if people truly believed Thrall was allied with the Alliance against the best interests of those he led, then a human walking around in their capital city would likely incite more than a little disapproval. He slipped the necklace on.

He was just tugging his other boot on when the fur on the bed stirred and Tal'Thera sat up, her back to where he sat on the table. He noticed - not without a hint of embarrassment and...maybe a dash of _something else _- that the blood elf sleepily stretched her arm out and suddenly realized Mikael wasn't there, patting the bed beside her once or twice in confusion before turning around and spotting him sitting there.

"_Good morning..." _she whispered, turning as red as her hair.

"_Afternoon, actually," _he said, chuckling nervously. "_Did you sleep well?"_

_ "I had...some really odd dreams," _the mage replied, stretching out on her side so she was facing him, snuggling into the fur.

Mikael straightened his armor and put his back to her, swallowing down the anxiety beginning to form, and strode purposely to the door; experimentally tugging at the handle showed the door was locked from the outside, confirming what he'd already suspected. He was locked in with Tal'Thera.

'I will definitely be having a little chat with Meraka when all this nonsense is done...'

Behind him Tal'Thera still lay in the bed, curled up and trying not to look at him, a veil of hair partially shielding her face; when he turned back around and retreated to his perch on the table, he couldn't really tell if she was just laying there quietly or if she'd fallen asleep again.

Finally, after several long moments of silence, there was a brief sensation of incredible pressure in the air, then a sulfur-like scent, and then a loud thud. Tal'Thera sat upright - not asleep after all - even as Mikael jumped up, but then blew out a heavy sigh.

Jhuunom, a felhound and Mikael's servant, had materialized in the open floor space between table and bed. He had the straps of Mikael's knapsack in his mouth, which he promptly spat out and then sat back on his haunches, letting out a keen whining noise as his master's knapsack tipped over onto the floor. Mikael was immediately on his knees beside the canine-like demon, running his hands over Jhuunom's back.

"_What's wrong?"_

_ "There," _Tal'Thera said from her spot on the bed, pointing to low on Jhuunom's flank, the side of the demon that was facing her.

Mikael leaned over, shoving the felhound's spiked, suckered tentacles out of the way as he did so, and saw that a ragged cut ran from the demon's hip joint down his leg, almost reaching his toes. Greenish-black blood dripped from it, beginning to pool on the floor beneath the demon; Mikael sat back on his heels and sighed heavily.

"_That looks like it hurt," _he muttered, part of him sorely annoyed that someone had attacked the felhound, and another still wholly understanding the _why _of the attack.

Jhuunom whined again, his suckers waving in agitation, and Mikael patted his head like he would a dog.

"_Hang on, hang on, I know. Give me a moment."_

Tal'Thera appeared terrified of the demonic servant, but still leaned closer as Mikael bent to his backpack and began to rummage through it. She froze as Jhuunom turned his head toward her, appearing to sniff her direction, then the felhound turned back to his master and completely ignored her, the tentacles on his back still jerking this way and that seemingly randomly.

"_He won't hurt you, he's been told not to touch you," _Mikael said after a moment, still searching through his backpack. She was beginning to wonder what it was he was looking for when finally he pulled his arms out and clutched in one hand was a small roll of linen. "_Here we go. Hold still."_

As Tal'Thera watched him in surprise, he carefully began to bandage the injury on the felhound; several times he had to pause and order Jhuunom to stay still and stop twitching, but finally he had all of the injury covered in clean linen, and tied it off nearly inside the leg - somewhere the felhound could pick it off when he was healed, but not somewhere it would be pulled off prematurely. He used the tiny little bit of linen left to clean up what blood had dripped to the floor, then leaned back against the bed behind him and shook his head.

"_It would seem the blood elves almost caught him as he was retrieving my things. He didn't hurt any of them though, as I ordered him not to. I'm sorry you got cut up there, Jhuunom."_

The felhound growled and whined, then sat down on his hind legs and turned to face both the human and the blood elf. He almost seemed to cock his head, those tentacles on his back waving idly, and Mikael shook his head.

"_She's a friend, Jhuunom. You'll guard her like you'll guard me...no, I don't care that you don't want to. You will, and that's an order."_

Tal'Thera looked between human and demon, blinking at the one-sided conversation - Mikael seemed to be responding to both growls and nothing at all, for Jhuunom wasn't always uttering noise the entire time. He was leaning back against the bed, eying his servant and occasionally commenting on something she could not hear half of the time...was that what it was to have a demon bound to you? A sharing of minds?

"_How are you...how are you speaking to him?"_

Mikael leaned his head back, looking up at her so he appeared upside down. "_He's speaking Eredun, demonic, and some of the sounds are made so that only one who knows the language can hear them properly."_

_ "...if you don't know the language and therefore cannot hear some of the words, then how does one learn it in the first place?" _she asked after a moment.

Mikael grinned at her, the grin not seeming to reach his eyes. "_Well, having a demon bound to you is about the only way...a really good thing, if you ask me. No one who isn't tied to dark magic in some way could ever understand all of it, thanks to them being unable to hear or pronounce it."_

_ "And you can?"_

_ "I was taught while young," _he said quietly. "_If I hadn't learned what I did, how to speak it, I wouldn't know half so much about it as I do now...sometimes, I wish I hadn't learned any of it at all."_

_ "Why did you turn to the dark magics, Mikael?" _ The question slipped out of her mouth before she could stop herself, and she immediately pressed her lips together and wondered how badly she'd just offended him.

To her surprise, he sighed heavily and closed his eyes, resting his head back on the bed in a fold of the fur that was still wrapped around her lower half. The human was silent for several long moments, then he opened his eyes and looked at her.

"_I wasn't always like this. I didn't start my life on a dark path, but I wonder every day about how I could allow myself to end up here." _He blew out another heavy sigh. "_Would you believe me if I told you I was once a paladin in training?"_

She studied him for a few minutes silently, then the barest hint of a smile crossed her features. "_I know you're a good man, so yes, I would believe you. But how does a paladin change into a warlock?"_

_ "When the Light leaves you, all you have left is darkness," _he said softly. He sat up briefly and tugged at a side pocket on his knapsack, pulling out a silver chain with a small medallion winking in the light hanging from it. "_What's worse is my separation from the Light was the fault of my brother."_

He held the chain and medallion out to her, and she carefully closed her fingers around it and brought it close. On one side of the medallion were tiny words etched into the silver, words she couldn't read, and on the other was an insignia of some sort, a warhammer it looked like.

"_I was once proud to call myself a paladin, a servant of the Light. Now I'm ashamed to think I ever thought of myself as one. Had I possessed the character, the strength, and the knowledge, perhaps I would not have been forced to turn to the worst sort of magic to carry out my hunt." _Mikael now gestured at Jhuunom. "_Can you imagine any sort of paladin consorting with _this? _With the demons who sought to once destroy us? Once upon a time I despised the fact that I had tamed Jakpit, that I slowly began gaining servants as I fought and learned and overcame...I was scared of them, truthfully. They were the things of nightmares told to children, yet here I was toting them around like damn pets," _he spat bitterly. Jhuunom snorted and nudged Mikael's leg with his nose, and Mikael patted his head absently. "_I used to be something great, now I'm just yet another person the general populace despises and fears."_

_ "Why?"_

He blinked at her. "_What?"_

_ "Why are you despised and feared? Do you go about flaunting your dark powers?" _Tal'Thera asked quietly. She shifted herself around and lifted Mikael's head, sliding her legs under so he lay in her lap. "_Do you hide and make other suspicious?"_

_ "Well, no," _he answered after a moment. "_But there's looks. And whispers behind my back. I'm the failed son of an amazing paladin, how could I shame my father in such a way?" _he went on dryly. "_I ignore them, but they're there."_

_ "If you truly ignored them you wouldn't be talking about them now. Do they bother you because they speak badly of you, or because they cast shame on your father?"_

Mikael visibly flinched. "_I...I don't know..."_

Tal'Thera smiled down at his upside down visage. "_I can tell you love your father a great deal, and I venture to guess that there isn't a thing he's ashamed of, least of all you."_

_ "You don't know my father."_

_ "No, but I do want to believe I know you, and I don't see anything to be ashamed of." _She reached down and stroked her hand against his cheek, then wiggled her fingers just in front of his nose. "_If anyone has anything to be ashamed of, it's me. I'm letting my talent waste away by not wearing my gloves...how can I help my people if I lose my ability to do so?"_

He caught her hand and squeezed it gently. "_If you ask me, being so sensitive to magic is a tragedy waiting to happen."_

_ "Perhaps, but it is a sacrifice needed for-"_

_ "For what?" _he interrupted, sitting up and turning so he was facing her, his legs tucked under the bed and arms resting in her lap. "_If a magical backlash kills you before you discover a cure for your addiction, then what was gained? That's not a sacrifice, that's a huge waste."_

Her face colored. "_They would miss the ability, but not me as a person. No waste except in a purely selfish sense."_

_ "You really don't think much of yourself do you?"_

_ "I'm merely being wholly honest with you. I can count the number of beings I call friend on one hand."_

_ "Why be honest with me?"_

_ "Because you're a friend," _she said quietly after a pause. "_Mikael...you're a man with a dark past, but a bright future. You're a warlock with the heart of a paladin, despite what you want to think or what others say...I've never met such a self-sacrificing man. My people are arrogant, greedy, loyal to their own and no other unless their own comes between them and the power they seek. They toss away people and familial ties like they're nothing...no one would ever go to the lengths you have unless it directly benefited them in some way. You're exactly opposite from everything I know, everything I see, and..."_

Mikael was staring up at her silently, his face carefully composed into something unreadable.

She swallowed hard. "_...and I adore you for it." _He still held her one hand, and so with her free one began to smooth the hair back from his face. "_If we had more like you in the world, wars would essentially be nonexistent."_

_ "Because I'd kill everyone before it exploded into free-for-all fighting," _he said sarcastically.

She lightly thumped him on the forehead with her knuckles. "_You wouldn't and you know it, you're just being self-destructive now."_

_ "Maybe," _he grumbled, rubbing where she'd bonked him. "_If we're being honest with one another, can I ask you something?"_

_ "Certainly."_

_ "Why did you kiss me on the balcony?"_

"_I told you why," _she said quickly, blushing from chin to ear tips. She immediately dropped her gaze into her lap, where the silver chain of Mikael's medallion lay in a tangle with the medallion sitting on top. Nervously she fidgeted with it one-handed, as the human refused to release her other hand when she went to pull it from him.

"_That wasn't an answer."_

She looked up to stare at him and found his face disturbingly close - he had risen up on his knees and was now about at the same level as she was - and inhaled sharply. "_I told you why," _she said again, voice wavering.

_ "And I said that's not an answer. Every action has a cause as well as a consequence."_

"_And what's my consequence? Are you going to punish me?"_

_ "I might."_

During the little exchange they had slowly but steadily been leaning closer until only a few inches separated their noses; Mikael was reminded of how her lips had felt on his like a punch to the gut, sudden and without warning. For the moment the fear of being executed by angry elves was gone - being this close, _this close, _was maddening.

Before he was quite aware of what he was doing he had leaned forward and closed the distance, this time the culprit behind stealing a kiss and Tal'Thera was quite willing to be stolen from; he felt slender fingers slide from his hand, up his arms and around his shoulders as he partially rose from his kneeling position in the floor and instead half-knelt, half-leaned on the bed with a hand on either side of her.

A tug at his waist and an insistent bark shattered it all. Mikael pulled back with a gasp and landed on his butt in the floor, Jhuunom barely scampering out of the way and then nudging his master again.

"_Thank the Light..." _Mikael muttered hoarsely, backing away until he felt the table behind him and using it to get to his feet.

"_What?" _Tal'Thera asked faintly, looking like she was trying her best to disappear into the bed.

"_S-someone is coming," _he answered, hurrying to the door and leaning his head against the wall, resting his forehead against it and breathing deeply. His hands were shaking, he realized, and angrily he clenched them at his sides while he gritted his teeth and did what he could to regather his scattered thoughts.

Meraka was going to pay in spades for making him stay in here.

Even as he thought that, the door opened just enough to permit the orc's head and shoulders, and she looked faintly surprised to see him leaning there.

"_Er. Awake already, good," _Meraka said, pushing the door open wider and stepping inside. "_You, out in the hall. I had to search to find a pair of robes I thought would fit, but these should do nicely," _she went on, tossing a hide-wrapped package onto the table and gesturing for Mikael to follow her out into the hallway, Jhuunom squeezing out the door with them before it closed.

"_Should I have left you two unchaperoned?" _the orc asked casually once the door was firmly shut behind her.

Mikael bristled and had to restrain himself from exploding - both verbally and possibly magically, as unhinged as he was feeling at the moment. "_I'm a grown man, I'm perfectly capable of conducting myself in an honorable manner."_

_ "Of course you are," _Meraka said, even though Mikael swore he saw her hide a knowing smirk. "_We'll give her a moment to change, then I'm going to take you to see Logane."_

_ "He survived then?"_

_ "It was close at first. The shock of the injury plus the trauma caused by the knowledge of having lost the limb nearly killed him at first, but the priests assure all that he is getting stronger, and I'm certainly convinced he'll recover as he won't stop asking after Tal'Thera and you."_

_ "I'd be rather disappointed if he hadn't survived," _Mikael said quietly, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. "_What am I to do now? Thrall have any other little requests of me?"_

Meraka shook her head as she chuckled. "_No, he is thankful you got the information to him. You may retrieve your sword and leave when you please once you've returned to Silvermoon."_

Mikael nodded absently; Meraka peered at him as his gaze unfocused, and finally she waved a hand before his eyes after several minutes. With a jerk he snapped his attention back to the here and now. "_What? What is it?"_

_ "Are you okay?" _the mage asked dryly. "_You seem a little distracted."_

_ "Just, uh...just thinking."_

_ "Of?"_

_ "...things."_

_ "Like?"_

Mikael sighed heavily. "_You're prying."_

When the orc merely shrugged, he sighed again. "_Just...thinking on what I'm going to do now. How I'm going to ah...proceed." _She raised an eyebrow and he cleared his throat. "_Well, I can, well...I mean. I can hardly leave Tal'Thera now, knowing she's in danger."_

Meraka eyed him, and he squirmed under her gaze even though he felt she had no way of knowing what had happened on the balcony, and what had happened just a moment ago...in fact, part of _him _didn't even believe what had just happened. It was like the memory included a separate man and Mikael had only been observing, but _by the gods _it had felt real and right and -

And this train of thought was going somewhere bad. Very bad. Too bad for words to properly express bad.

He had the distinct feeling that Meraka was mentally laughing at him, and that rankled him; _why in the world had she left him alone with Tal'Thera?!_

* * *

Carefully she unwrapped the hide with numb hands, a silken pair of midnight blue robes sliding out of it and pooling on the table, not seeing nor comprehending what they were for an instant.

What had she just done?

The question echoed endlessly in her mind. _What had she just done? _

She hadn't been the instigator this time, but she was just as guilty in that she'd allowed it to happen...and had even _enjoyed _it. She _craved _it. Even now the residual memory of a mouth on hers made her clench in pleasure in places she had long ignored before now. This was a huge problem - where had it even started? How could she have let something like this totally blindside her?

It was his fault, it had to be. This was his fault, how dare he be so kind thoughtful strong good-looking tragic friendly appealing so attractive -

'Stop it,' she told herself firmly. 'You're as much to blame as he is...perhaps more. After all, you started this whole thing. Oh gods, why did I ever agree to fix his weapon? I brought this on myself, this is wrong,' she chanted in her head as she changed into the fresh pair of robes. They were plain, a solid color of midnight blue, but the sash was a soft golden yellow and the cream tone of her under-robes, just peeking out of the neckline, looked golden in comparison. She quickly checked her appearance in the mirror and then banged her head against it in frustration when she realized her first thought was if Mikael liked the color blue.

After a moment of resting her face against the cool glass of the mirror, she pulled back and studied her reflection, smoothing her hair into place and straightening her sash.

'Don't think about it, don't think about it...' she told herself over and over as she folded her cut and torn robes up and went to set them on the bed, where a glint of silver caught her attention. Partially hidden amongst the folds of the fur was that necklace Mikael had handed her; she reached down to pick it up and examine it again, turning it back and forth between warhammer and the writing on the back that she couldn't read.

His backpack was still laying in the floor, and she almost, almost, returned the necklace to it when she paused and, after a moment, put the necklace on and hid the medallion and chain beneath the neck of her robes. It was...really silly of her to have done it, and for the life of her couldn't explain what had possessed her to do it, but the metal lay between her breasts, a cold little knot until her body heat warmed it, and only then did she cross over to the door and carefully pull it open.

* * *

A little while later - and on the entirely other side of Orgrimmar - Meraka paused in front of a door and gently knocked on it. A male troll, probably the biggest one Mikael had ever seen with purple hair gathered in braids around his face and a sizable pair of jutting tusks, opened the door and bowed them in. When Mikael was inside and the troll had shut the door behind them he could see the troll wore priestly robes - this was one of Logane's tenders then.

The room smelled slightly stale, a heavy scent of bitter herbs clinging to the back of their throats as they found themselves in an entryway with only a ramp leading up to a second floor. The troll silently pointed up to the ceiling, and Meraka nodded and headed up the ramp with Tal'Thera and Mikael following in her wake.

"_They've moved him, that is a good sign."_

The ramp spiraled up into the second story, a wide, spacious room with a large window on the west wall that was open a crack to ventilate some of the medicinal smell. On the east wall directly opposite the window was a bed with three priests and a druid sitting around it, and Logane himself laying in it. The priests - two more trolls and a blood elf - all nodded to them as they quietly approached, all wearing identical robes to the troll downstairs, while the druid - a female tauren in plain leather tunic and pants - seemingly missed their entrance as she was bent over Logane and re-wrapping a bandage around his stump of an arm.

"_We'll leave you in privacy, but only for a short time," _the blood elf priest warned, raising his finger and waggling it at them. "_Make sure you use it wisely."_

They waited until the four healers had all gone down the ramp, then they stepped up to gaze at the pathetically weak-looking Logane.

He breathed shallowly but regularly and was covered in a blanket that was tucked around his thin frame; without a helmet on Mikael could see the blood elf had very very short brown hair, cropped incredibly close to his skull in order to fit under his armor. He looked up at them tiredly, looking too exhausted to even show if he was in any sort of pain; his bandaged stump rested on a pillow at his side, his good arm resting on his stomach. Logane swallowed and smiled faintly up at them.

"_I was hoping...you lived, human."_

_ "I was more worried about you," _Mikael said, bowing slightly to him. "_I suppose it would be foolish to ask how you're feeling?"_

_ "I sometimes wish I had died," _Logane said, grimacing. "_I certainly wanted to at first, the pain was unbearable."_

Tal'Thera stepped up to the bed and reached out to him; he seemed to hardly have the strength to take her hand.

"_And you, my lady. I'm glad to see you safe."_

_ "Oh Logane, the price was too high," _she whispered, squeezing his fingers.

He shook his head and let his hand drop from hers. "_It was my sworn duty, I was proud to do it."_

She too shook her head but stayed silent; Meraka was standing back, leaving the two of them at Logane's immediate bedside, but she had likely spent more time here than they knew.

"_You look as though you need some rest," _Mikael said into the silence finally.

Logane again grimaced and then shuddered. "_Oh, gods no, no more sleep. I'm plagued with curious dreams."_

_ "They can't be so bad they keep you from sleeping. Rest will help you heal," _Tal'Thera said firmly.

"_They're curious, is all. Very strange."_

_ "How so?"_

Logane carefully settled back deeper into the pillows propping him up, eyes narrowing. "_I keep dreaming of a female troll...she talks to me. Whispers, really. I don't know what she wants."_

A cold feeling suddenly formed in the pit of Mikael's stomach as the vivid memory of being cornered on a tree by Jin'Loki came to him.

The feeling expanded considerably when Tal'Thera leaned forward.

"_A female troll? But that is what I dreamed about only a few hours ago!"_

The cold feeling turned into a sense of panicked dread.

Mikael dropped to one knee and seized Tal'Thera around the shoulders, spinning her around on her seat so she was facing him; he forced himself not to shake her roughly, but he couldn't quite keep the his face calm.

"_Tell me...what did she look like? Did you get a name? Did she wear her hair back in a ponytail?"_

Tal'Thera appeared absolutely stunned by his barrage of questions, but it was Logane who answered.

"_Female troll, kind of a light green. Dark hair, ponytail yes. She never said a name, I don't think."_

_ "Y-yes, that's what the troll in my dreams looked like," _Tal'Thera finally squeaked.

"_Jin'Loki," _he growled, letting go of Tal'Thera and sitting back on his heels in the floor.

How was it possible that these two blood elves had dreamt of a person neither had personally met? How did this all connect?

'That they've met her before is not only too amazing to be mere coincidence but also impossible in that they should have had a name if they had...but they know what she looks like. How is this possible? By the Light, this is all turning into one big...'

"..._nightmare_," Mikael said suddenly, jumping to his feet.

"_What?"_

_ "I was just thinking. This is all turning into one big nightmare, and it made me think...oh boy. Meraka," _he snapped, and the mage jumped at her name.

"_What?"_

_ "We know _who _disappeared, and _where _they disappeared from...but do we know _what _they were doing when they disappeared?"_

Meraka thought a moment, then shook her head. "_I cannot say that I do. Perhaps the Warchief would, we will have to ask-"_

Mikael grabbed Tal'Thera's arm and tugged her up to her feet, ignoring the surprised look on her face as he began to drag her toward the ramp. "_Hope you heal quickly Logane, we need to go, NOW."_

"_Where are you going, warlock?" _Meraka asked as they breezed passed her.

"_Logane and Tal'Thera both have seen someone in their dreams that I myself have dreamed of, and have even met in person. It's too much to hope they've both met - well hells below, they CAN'T have both met Jin'Loki, Tal'Thera is kept in isolation and Logane protects her, there's no WAY they met that troll. I have...call it a wild idea, but if Thrall can confirm something for me..."_

_ "What? Confirm what?" _the orc demanded, hurrying after them as they rushed downstairs and out the door, Mikael intending to see Thrall no matter what the orc Warchief happened to be doing at the time.

"_Confirm what the disappeared people were doing before they were missing," _Mikael said in a rush. "_We all know they disappeared in the same way in they didn't leave a trace of their whereabouts behind, but what if they all disappeared doing the same _things?"

Meraka actually stopped in the middle of the street, jaw beginning to drop open as realization dawned. "_If Tal'Thera and Logane, and you, all dreamed of the same person-"_

_ "-and Tal'Thera is being attacked for unknown reasons-"_

_ "-which likely has something to do with the disappearances in the first place-"_

_ "-then to find where the missing persons are we need to catch this troll-"_

_ "-at least to question her about how she's appearing in people's dreams-"_

_ "-but it leaves one undeniable conclusion about _how _people are disappearing-"_

_ "-we're being hunted in our sleep," _both Mikael and Meraka concluded at the same time.

Meraka actually raised a hand to her mouth and gnawed on a knuckle, staring at a point somewhere above Mikael's head. "_Gol'Kosh...if this is true then..."_

A very non-serious part of Mikael at that moment wanted to point out that as a mage Meraka had likely never even TOUCHED an axe, but he ignored the orcish outburst and instead pulled Tal'Thera along with them as now Meraka took the lead and hurried them all toward Grommash Hold.


	13. Chapter 13

They were staying in the home of Bessany. Darae was settling down for sleep uneasily in a small side room; he was really tired, was yawning frequently, and it was already late in the evening after an eventful day...but having listened to his shan'do's explanation on everything that had happened so far, he was afraid to fall asleep.

What if he disappeared like his parents did? He had no intention of allowing himself to be kidnapped, he didn't want to die, but...how did you even protect yourself against something that could grab you while you were asleep? It was like all the bogeymen his friends had scared him with were all congregating around his bed, waiting to pounce the moment Darae closed his eyes, and -

He about fell off the cot he lay on when something gently touched his shoulder. Turning around he looked up into the face of his shan'do - she could move _quietly _when she wanted too, good grief - and she smiled down at him.

"Afraid, Darae?"

"A-a little," he answered, swallowing hard. "What if those things take me like they took my parents?"

"They won't," Saliea said simply. "From what we can guess based on the ones I fought, they have to physically take your body. We'll be watching, they won't get that chance."

"And if I'm stuck in the Emerald Dream?" he asked timidly.

Saliea patted his head, grinning at him. "Well, then I'll just have to come get you." Her expression turned much more serious then. "You don't have to worry, Darae. You're under our protection now, we won't let anything happen to you."

The 'our' and 'we' made Darae look up over her shoulder, where through the doorway just behind her he could see Sevei and the tauren Bessany conversing. After a moment the two moved to where he couldn't see them, but he knew they were just out of sight...kind of like how his parents had once been - always there, just out of sight. It was easier to think of them that way, that he just couldn't see them, rather than think they were dead and gone.

Saliea had glanced over her shoulder and seen them as well, turning and nodding down at him. "You'll be safe in our company, Darae. Nothing is going to get you."

"You promise?" After he said it he cringed - even _he _thought that had sounded incredibly weak and childish.

Again Saliea patted his head, chuckling. "I promise. Good night, Darae."

"Night..." he said, rolling onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.

Saliea retreated from the room, but every time he sneaked a peek in her direction he found her sitting in a chair just outside his door, looking in on him. He thought the knowledge of having someone staring at him while he slept would feel weird, but it actually comforted him in a way; if someone was constantly looking at him, if anything happened they'd know immediately. Maybe he really WAS safe to sleep...but when would his shan'do sleep? Who would watch her?

Well, Sevei would, he concluded, feeling quite dumb as he did so. And she would watch him when the shaman slept. It was silly to think they wouldn't, but did that mean the shaman would be awake all night as well? Suddenly he felt guilty, at robbing the druid and her husband of sleep they probably needed by now. He rolled over to put his back to the door and ground the heels of his palms into his eyes; why did he have to feel so useless? He doubted he'd even fall asleep anyway, so this was all pointless.

Growling into his pillow, Darae tried to get comfortable and quiet his mind enough so that sleep was even a remote possibility.

* * *

Bessany had come and waved Saliea away from her post at the door.

"_Go on, I'll keep an eye on your son," _the tauren said gently.

"_Oh, he's my student, not my son," _Saliea said as she stood.

Bessany nodded and silently sat down, shooing the night elf away; Saliea simply shook her head and left. Darae was sleeping in a small room off of Bessany's study - which was more like a greenhouse, truth be told - and so Saliea had to wind her way amongst potted plants and trees to get into the small kitchen area and, through there, out into the sitting room. Bessany's bedroom was on the floor above them and could only be reached by going up a ramp outside, typical of night elf architecture and Saliea wondered how the tauren liked living here. Saliea herself was just as comfortable on the ground as she was in a bed, but the bedroll laid out for her and Sevei in the sitting room would do just fine.

She found Sevei sitting on the said bedroll, still dressed in full armor and looking wide awake. Silently she slid to the floor next to him and let him hug her to his side.

"Tired?" he asked.

"Not in the least," she sighed in return. "Too much information in too short a time - my mind isn't the least bit exhausted."

"I feel like mine is trying to escape out my ears."

She reached up and lightly flicked the tip of one of his ears, drawing a laugh and a poke in the side from the shaman.

Sevei leaned back on his hands, tucking his tail in tighter around his hips as he shifted to get it out of the way. "I...offered Darae a home with us, should he not wish to leave when his relatives are found," he said after a moment.

The look Saliea sent him was a cross between relief and gratitude. "Oh, that's good...I was wondering how to broach that subject with you, to be truthful. You told him before I got a chance to do so myself," she laughed.

"Do you want to sleep first, or should I?"

"You're the one carrying an extra, you sleep first." Sevei nodded his head toward the door outside. "The spirits were quite eager to discover the cause of the disappearances, and are now willing to protect this dwelling and the one holding Loganaar and Pathora."

"And Pit?"

Sevei blinked at her. "Who? Oh, the blood elf. Yes. He was actually the first one they offered to guard, as he is living proof that all who have disappeared are not without hope of rescue." He shifted around and tugged her between his knees, then began to firmly knead her shoulders and neck. "Relax for a bit, dear. Try to rest, we're going to be busy beyond belief soon enough."

Saliea arched her back as he rubbed it, smiling. "That's an understatement, though I'll be lucky to survive long enough to be busy once Fandral arrives."

"When do you think he'll arrive?"

"Well, that depends. If someone had to go get him, then he shouldn't be here until tomorrow morning at the earliest, but if he was reached through magical means then he should already be here."

Just as she finished speaking there was a knock on the door that made them both jump; Sal groaned and hung her head.

"Guess which one I'm guessing happened," she sighed, getting up to open the door.

A night elf female that she recalled having met years ago - but for the life of her she couldn't remember the woman's name - stood at the door and smiled down at her. "I guess I don't need to say why I'm here."

"I'm surprised he didn't come to drag me by the tips of my ears himself," Sal said with another sigh. She turned to look at Sevei, still sitting in the floor, and the draenei made shooing motions.

"I'll stay here with Darae and Bessany," he said softly. "When the boy wakes we'll come find you."

Saliea came back to give him a tight hug, kneeling in front of him a moment. "It would seem you're proving to be the better mentor for him," she said dryly.

Sevei patted her cheek and gave her a kiss. "No, I'm just the one who has parents that allow me to live my own life."

"Well, someone sounds a tad bitter," she remarked, sounding mildly surprised.

"A bit, perhaps. As you've said, Staghelm acts the part of father only when it suits him," Sevei grunted. "Maybe I'm just jealous he commands so much of your attention," he added after a moment, chuckling.

She lightly kissed his forehead then stood and hurried out the door with the other female, mentally preparing herself for a verbal reaming that would likely end up giving both her and the Archdruid rampaging headaches by the time morning arrived.

* * *

Sevei remained in the floor, staring at the closed door and mentally arguing with himself over whether staying here had been a wise decision or not. It hardly seemed a good idea to present Fandral with a united front, as the Archdruid thrived on intimidating others, but neither did it seem right to let her face down his wrath alone, foster daughter or no.

Someone had to stay with Darae, though - it wouldn't be fair to the boy to leave him alone, not at this time. He understood Saliea's annoyance at having to leave her student if for only that reason, at least.

For lack of anything else to do Sevei began to examine his armor; it was something he did every week, just to make sure everything was in proper working condition, and to his annoyance he found he'd become so used to doing it he completed his inspection in a short time. Carefully he put it all back on and returned to his seat in the floor with a yawn. Maybe he should just meditate...

A scuff of a shoe on the floor made the shaman glance up sharply, then relax as he saw Darae's small form framed in the doorway. The boy was rubbing his eyes and looked incredibly tired, and even stumbled a bit when Sevei motioned for him to come in and sit.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked softly as the youth dropped into the floor in front of him.

"Nope," the boy yawned, tucking his legs under himself. "I just...I think there's someone outside my room. I can hear them talking, but Bessany said she didn't hear anything."

Sevei reached inward and then out, finding that an earth spirit and the wind were just outside the room Darae had been in a moment ago; the shaman smiled and withdrew, coming back to full awareness and studying Darae thoughtfully. "Did you understand any of what they were saying?"

"No, it sounded like a bunch of whispers. I must have been hearing things...I am kind of tired." Darae yawned again, covering his mouth with both hands as he did so. "Where is shan'do?"

"Fandral Staghelm has arrived here," Sevei replied, chuckling as Darae visibly flinched. "We're going to go to her once you've rested some."

"I'm fine though," Darae said through another yawn. He fidgeted as Sevei simply looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "Okay, I'm sleepy, but I can't sleep so I might as well go."

Sevei chuckled again and shook his head. "Lay down here and rest a few more hours, I will move to give you room. We should give Saliea and the Archdruid some time to...settle their differences."

"You mean yell at one another?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I meant," Sevei laughed. The draenei got to his feet and got out of the way as Darae obediently stretched out on the bedroll that, had Staghelm not arrived, Saliea would be curled up in right now with Sevei standing guard.

With the quiet noises of Darae trying to get settled the only noise in the room, Sevei fixed his gaze on the wall in front of him and tried to quiet his mind.

* * *

To her surprise, Fandral hadn't actually exploded yet but Saliea could tell he really, really wanted to.

Pathora was still dead to the world in bed, and Saliea, Fandral, and Loganaar had all retreated a short distance away to hold their conversation in lowered voices, but even in a near-whisper she could tell the Archdruid was restraining himself.

Slowly and clearly Saliea and Loganaar had explained everything that had happened thus far to the Archdruid, answering Fandral's questions the best they could, and had even shown him the crystal Ki'tryn - Pit - had 'carried' with him from the Dream. It now rested in Fandral's palm, a look of intense disgust evident in his features as he poked at it with a finger as they talked.

"So the Dream is in chaos," Fandral finally muttered. "I now regret that most of my duties here keep me from walking the Dream as often as I'd like."

"Perhaps it's better you don't," Loganaar commented, shaking his head. "It would be an incredible blow to lose you to whatever grips the Dream."

Fandral nodded absently, still examining the crystal in his hand. "You are certain, daughter, that this scent is demonic?"

Saliea slowly nodded, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly before continuing. "I recognize it as the same smell that tends to cling to Mikael. It is demonic, or close enough to it."

"Close enough to it?" Fandral repeated, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Well, you know Mikael's history as well as I do," she said quietly. "He is not corrupted, his magical aura is not demonic nor truly dark - he has some Light remaining to him, despite what he may think."

"So you think this...thing...may have Light to it?" From his tone, Fandral certainly didn't believe that at all.

Sal shook her head. "No, not Light...something else perhaps, but not the Light. I'm merely stating that I don't believe that this crystal is fully demonic, more like some bizarre mixture of magic."

"For now, we shall consider it demonic if only to make conversation about it go faster," Staghelm said firmly, closing his hand around it. "What of the blood elf that brought this here? Where is he?"

"He is under guard on the outskirts of Nighthaven," Loganaar answered. "I immediately had him removed from sight to avoid alarming any residents."

"Bring him here."

Loganaar inhaled and held his breath, but Saliea held up a hand. "Wait, I'll go get him. Neither of you speak Orcish, he likely won't understand what's happening if you just walk in and cart him off."

Fandral's eyes flashed, but Saliea glared at him. "Shove it, Fandral. You know I'm right and that's the only reason you're protesting."

She didn't think he could turn a darker shade of purple, but he did. Nevertheless he steeled himself and sharply pointed to the door; Saliea bowed and hurried from the room, breaking into a quick jog once she was outside and quickly getting to the guarded dwelling where Pit had been left. The guards at the door recognized her and stepped aside with short bows; she smiled at them all as she went inside and found Pit sitting up on his little cot, staring ahead at the wall and looking incredibly bored.

He nearly fell over when she greeted him, jumping in surprise.

"_A little forewarning would have been nice. Scuff your shoe, cough, something," _he said dryly.

"_I'm sorry," _she chuckled. "_There is someone here who wishes to speak with you, so I'm here to take you where you need to be. I take it you're ready to leave this little closet?"_

_ "Incredibly ready," _he sighed, standing. "_Been bored out of my mind in here." _His stomach growled. "_I'm also hungry, if it wasn't apparent."_

_ "No one fed you?"_

_ "I think I was asleep when they came by, because I had more water but no food."_

Saliea inwardly growled. "_They may have been waiting on orders from His Holy Hornhead."_

Pit was looking at her strangely. "..._who?"_

_ "Never mind," _she said quickly, clearing her throat.

They were approaching the city when Pit slowed to a stop, looking back out into the darkness. Saliea stopped too and looked at him.

"_What is it?"_

_ "Well, I just remembered. My dreadsteed had my belongings on him, in the saddlebags you see? It just occurred to me that if I summon him back he might still have it on him."_

_ "I'm guessing you're wanting permission to try?"_

The blood elf simply nodded.

Saliea glanced around; there were no other night elves around, only a few tauren guards in their immediate area. Back the way they'd come were the guards still at the dwelling, of course, but...well, if she could find them a darkened, isolated corner, perhaps no one would note the summoning. She gestured for him to follow and went off at a trot into the darkness, heading away from the city - and keeping in mind that in this direction there were pools of water that all fed into Lake Elune'Ara. Keeping to the shadows, she lead Pit all the way to the northern edge of Moonglade itself, stopping where the grass began to give way to the rocky mountains rising in the distance; here she stopped and turned around.

"_Okay, try it here and make it quick, there's no telling where the guards patrol anymore, I haven't stayed any length of time here in ages."_

Pit nodded and went into a spellcasting Saliea had seen Mikael use several times, and as she expected a blast of hot air hit her in the face as the fiery demonic horse appeared. It snorted angrily as Pit approached it, but sure enough there was a saddlebag tied to the saddle on the mount; the blood elf removed it, quickly dismissed the demon horse back to wherever he'd summoned it from, then rummaged through his backpack.

"_Good, nothing lost. Everything is here."_

_ "That's all you carry?"_

Pit snorted, grinning. "_Well, when you reach somewhere you can't summon the beast because warlocks are unwelcome, and the alternative is carrying your belongings, you learn to travel light."_

Saliea studied him a moment, then grinned. "_That, and I bet your other things were left under that tree back in the Barrens."_

_ "...that, and my other things were left under that tree in the Barrens," _Pit repeated sheepishly. "_But! The important things I was worried about are in this bag, all that was in the other were a few gadgets, some tools, and a change of clothing."_

Saliea laughed and gestured for him to follow her back into town; minutes later she was introducing a wary Pit to the Archdruid.

Pit bowed to the male, swallowing hard. "_Uh...honored to meet you, sir."_

Fandral rolled his eyes. "Tell him to drop the terrified act so we can get down to business."

"Then sit down or stop towering over us all," Saliea replied dryly.

Fandral shot her a glare but sat down on a stool, gesturing for everyone else to sit down as well. "You're to translate everything I say as close as possible to how I say it."

"I know, I know," she sighed.

"Does he have any idea what this is that he brought back with him?" Fandral asked, holding out the crystal.

Saliea asked, and waited as Pit leaned forward to actually look at the thing; he gestured, miming a request to pick it up, and so Fandral snorted and dumped it into the blood elf's open hand.

The result was nearly instant; a blank look came over the blood elf's face, then he toppled sideways out of his seat, the crystal bouncing away out of his hand across the floor. The three night elves were immediately on their feet and reaching for him, and just as Saliea closed a hand on his shoulder Pit jerked away from her and curled into a tight ball, his owns hands coming up to knot in the hair at his temples.

"What's wrong with him?" Fandral snapped, looking from Pit to the crystal across the room.

Sal was attempting to gently pry the blood elf out of his fetal position. "No...idea..." she grunted. "_Pit? What's wrong?" _After several more failed attempts to grab the elf's attention, she finally looked up at Loganaar. "Grab his arms."

The male did, and with him helping her they managed to get Pit's hands away from his head and pinned to his sides, then began to force his legs and body straight. Finally they had him flat on his back, and let go of his limbs when they found he wasn't trying to curl in on himself anymore; now they bent over him, somewhat at a loss as to what to do with him. The blood elf stared up at the ceiling blankly, and every so often his features screwed up into a grimace, like he was in pain. He didn't make any noise, he didn't try moving any of his body.

Finally, Loganaar motioned for Saliea to lean back and slapped the warlock, twice. Pit jerked, then lunged up into a sitting position with a garbled shriek, then backpedaled away from the night elves a few feet gasping wildly.

"_Pit?" _Saliea asked cautiously, feeling a hint of relief as she saw the blood elf was at least focusing on them now instead of staring off into nothing.

"_I'm not...I won't..." _he panted, glaring at each of them. "_Don't ever...never again. Don't."_

_ "Don't what? What happened?" _Sal asked gently.

Pit shook his head sharply, clenching and unclenching his fists. "_I...I'm not like that. I never will be like that, you understand."_

_ "Like what? What just happened?"_

_ "A nightmare. A horrible nightmare...this is real, isn't it?" _he asked suddenly, face paling.

Sal nodded. "_We're real, don't worry."_

"What is he saying?" Fandral snapped, getting up and retrieving the crystal. Saliea shushed him - drawing a glare from the druid - and turned back as Pit scooted away from Fandral, eying the hand that held the crystal warily.

"_Can you tell me what just happened?" _she asked quietly.

Pit swallowed visibly, still staring at Fandral. "_You're not going to make me touch that again, are you?"_

_ "Not after that."_

Again he swallowed. "_It was...looking into the face of my worst nightmare. I...it was very real. I'm not what I am because I wanted to be, I'm corrupted. I hear things, whispers. This was...a vision of what I COULD be, of what I'm terrified I may someday become. I won't serve a dark master, I won't...but I was. I was a puppet, a slave, worse than a slave," _he muttered, shaking his head. "_Friend and foe alike fell beneath me, and all for the glory of some evil that stole my will." _Slowly he rubbed at his eyes with his hands, finally running a hand over his face and blowing out a huge sigh. "_That will never happen, you see...but the fear is there. It's always there."_

"What is he saying?" Fandral growled after a moment of silence.

Saliea looked between him and Pit. "To summarize -"

"- I don't want the summary, I want the exact words," Fandral interrupted.

"To _summarize,"_ Sal repeated firmly, "whatever just happened, whatever that crystal-thing did to him, Pit saw his worst nightmare." She glared at Fandral. "Sorry if I refuse to tell you what he fears more than anything."

When Staghelm opened his mouth, no doubt to demand the knowledge, Loganaar interrupted them both with a loud laugh. When both Sal and Fandral looked at him strangely, the male simply laughed again.

"Well, it's simple, isn't it?" Logannar sighed, chuckling. He reached up to take the crystal from Fandral and hold it up to the light. "This came from Pit, from the Emerald Dream. It effected only him because it's his nightmare, it wouldn't have any meaning for any of us. What we have here, I do believe, is a solidified piece of the Nightmare itself."

* * *

Thrall looked grim, to put it mildly.

"_If we're being hunted in our sleep, this certainly complicates things," _the orc mused darkly, resting his chin in his hand. "_You feel very certain about this?"_

_ "I met Jin'Loki in Stranglethorn," _Mikael said, "_and then saw her a few times more, but it was always in my dreams. There's no possible explanation for her appearance in Tal'Thera's and Logane's dreams other than she's behind it or a part of the problem in some part."_

_ "How we be catchin' someone who appears in da dreamworld?" _Vol'jin asked, scratching his cheek idly. "_Dat's not somewhere anyone can be goin' easily."_

_ "And why are they attacking Tal'Thera?" _Meraka added, glancing over where the blood elf mage stood with Mikael. "_What purpose could they have in killing her?"_

_ "I think what we should do currently is focus on the one thing we have some remote power over," _Mikael said tersely.

Thrall simply looked at him. "_And that would be?"_

Mikael simply put an arm around Tal'Thera and pushed her in front of him. "_Finding a place where they can't find her."_

Thrall nodded slowly, rubbing at his chin. "_That we certainly have a better degree of control over...I see a problem with deciding to send her anywhere, however. They quickly located her and Logane even though they'd moved from Silvermoon to here. Someone is obviously watching very closely and will likely be on high alert to any attempts on our part to place her somewhere safe."_

_ "They knew where she was in Silvermoon..." _Meraka said, chewing at her lower lip as she began to pace across the floor. "_A target that does not move proves to be an easy one. The question is _HOW _they found her in the first place. If we can figure out how they located her in Silvermoon, then we can look and see how they found her here in Orgrimmar."_

_ "One thing is for certain," _Mikael said grimly, "_no more magical means of transportation."_

When everyone looked at him blankly, he shrugged. "_Well...what else is easier to trace than magical pathways? I created one when I created that portal. I'd put down a few copper on that's how they found her so quickly - she was watched in Silvermoon, they watched her escape, and quickly followed the pathway here to Orgrimmar."_

_ "Then why not abduct her immediately? Why torment Logane with a dream that essentially served as a warning to us?" _Meraka asked, beginning to gnaw at a knuckle again instead of her lip. "_But then again, perhaps if they can find her so easily, we can turn the tables and in turn locate them."_

Thrall nodded curtly. "_Indeed. Which is what I need you to focus on, Meraka."_

The mage frowned. "_I was rather hoping you would send me to help protect Tal'Thera."_

_ "I need your expertise elsewhere," _the Warchief went on, raising an eyebrow that silenced Meraka as the mage began to protest further. "_You will be of more use to me tracking whomever this Jin'Loki is, I trust your skill in this. Assemble a group of assistants if you must, but find me this troll and bring her to me."_

_ "And da blood elf?" _Vol'jin asked softly.

Thrall inhaled deeply, then blew out a heavy sigh. "_It's anyone's guess as to why they want her - it seems to be a little extreme if they merely wanted her for her particular talent. Any mage could replicate what she does, correct?" _he asked, looking to Tal'Thera.

She timidly nodded. "_With time and practice, anyone could d-do what I do, Warchief."_

"_So speed must be a factor here," _Thrall mused. "_Someone wants her for an unknown reason, and probably have a limited window of opportunity to kidnap her. All the more reason to keep her out of their hands, whoever they are. Warlock."_

Mikael grunted in acknowledgment.

"_I trust I can continue to depend on you to protect her?"_

"_Of course," _he said grimly. "_Anything that wants her..." _he went on, pausing to look at her. "..._will have to get through me first."_

The smile she gave him was adoring, and suddenly Mikael felt like melting into his boots; he hurriedly cleared his throat and looked elsewhere, hoping that no one else in the room had noticed.

Thrall was still talking, and he jerked his attention back to the orc.

"..._a small group will be least noticed," _the Warchief was saying.

"_Where should we run though?" _Mikael asked, hoping that he hadn't just missed Thrall explaining that very thing.

"_Where do ya go when it be dreams botherin' ya?" _Vol'jin chuckled. "_Send 'em ta Moonglade, to da druids. If dere be someone using da dreamworld to move about in da real one, dey need to know if dey don't already."_

"_That's a good idea, actually," _Mikael said into the silence that followed. "_Saliea will be able to help, and with her connection to Fandral Staghelm we could even open up talks between Horde and Alliance and prove that neither side is responsible for this mess."_

The Warchief smiled at the mention of the druidess, then a look more serious returned. _"I will be speaking with Jaina Proudmoore within a few hours, actually, but any help we can get will not be turned down," _Thrall said. "_Mikael, Tal'Thera, I would like for you two to accompany me when I speak with her."_

Mikael nodded, as did Tal'Thera, the blood elf looking faintly terrified at the thought of meeting the woman. He gently laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "_You'll be okay, Lady Proudmoore is a nice person."_

_ "I've heard of her," _Tal'Thera said, sighing and shaking her head. "_Just the idea of meeting such a mage..."_

Meraka was nodding idly, chuckling. "_I envy you."_

Vol'jin stretched to his full height from his slouch and saluted Thrall. "_I offer what knowledge I have of da old shadow arts, da voodoo. She might be utilizing such skills and it be best we be prepared for anyting."_

_ "Very well, you will work with Meraka. I will summon you two when I am leaving to speak with Jaina."_

With a gesture from Thrall they - at least, Mikael and Tal'Thera - were dismissed, and Mikael remembered enough of Grommash Hold to lead them back to the room they had rested in. Tal'Thera followed tamely behind him, silent, and didn't look at him as he opened the door for her and stepped aside. She walked in, hardly seeming to notice as she crossed the room and sat on the bed; Jhuunom was sitting in the floor, scratching at his bandaged hindquarters absently as he watched Mikael come in as well.

At the felhound's questioning growl, Mikael simply shook his head. "_You can go rest, I won't need you just yet." _Jhuunom disappeared - simply disappeared - without another sound, and Mikael was left wondering what to do now. They'd be leaving shortly, but there was still time and an awkward silence to fill.

He settled for sitting on the table again, looking up in time to see one of the guards outside shut the door on them - locked in again, whether it was for their protection or for that of the rest of Orgrimmar he could only guess.

Moonglade. If Thrall followed Vol'jin's suggestion and sent them to Moonglade, then Mikael could contact Saliea and Staghelm both and enlist their aid in keeping Tal'Thera safe and hidden. Maybe whomever was after her wouldn't think to look for a blood elf in the center of enemy territory, maybe not, but it was still better than sitting somewhere when it was obvious whomever was after the mage knew exactly where she was. There was also the added bonus of Horde and Alliance speaking to one another over this entire mess, thus removing the blame from either side and enabling everyone to bring their resources together to stop the threat before entire populations disappeared into thin air. Maybe Mikael wouldn't see a war between the two sides anytime soon - he couldn't be branded a traitor if the entire Alliance aids the Horde, and vice versa. Armed with the knowledge he had, Thrall could easily keep his people safe from a needless fight, all that mattered now was getting the Alliance to talk.

Of course, there was also a pressing matter in the back of his mind that he was trying very hard not to look at. Mikael had gotten torn open in his first fight against those monsters, and had only managed to get Tal'Thera to safety because he happened to have a teleport spell handy...what would happen in a fight where he was fully prepared, actually ready to fight? Would he be enough to keep Tal'Thera safe? The very pessimistic side of him was saying no, he wasn't enough, one man wasn't enough to protect her, and his optimistic side wasn't too optimistic either; he had confidence in his abilities to fight, but that was for mainly himself. _Could _he actually keep another person from harm? Overconfidence would get him killed and Tal'Thera captured, but a lack of confidence wasn't much better either.

He'd discuss it with Thrall, including his worries that he wouldn't be enough.

After a moment he heard a snuffling sound behind him, and turned to see Tal'Thera dabbing at damp eyes.

"_Are you okay?" _he asked quietly.

She laughed, shaking her head even as she dried her eyes with a sleeve. "_Just feeling a little overwhelmed is all. I don't know which direction is up anymore, I'm just trying to survive and I don't know how. This is so different from what I'm used to, what do I do in this situation?"_

He got up and walked over slowly, perching on the bed by her. "_I'm sorry this is happening to you...if I could stop it all right now, I would, but I can't. All I can do is protect you, and I will, I promise you that."_

She wiped at her eyes again, sniffling. "_Did you...did you really mean what you said there, in Thrall's throne room?" _she asked timidly.

Mikael shifted where he sat, inhaling deeply and remaining silent a moment, then leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "_Of course. If someone intends to harm you, they will have to deal with me first." _He hung his head, a curtain of hair hiding his face as he continued on. "_I don't intend to leave you, Tal'Thera. I'll stay by your side and protect you, no matter what, and gods help whoever tries to..."_

He fell silent, shaking his head as he trailed off; he felt like he was balancing on a knife edge, that maybe if he said too much he'd overbalance one direction or the other, and end up somewhere he wasn't wanting to go. Remaining in his hunched-over position Mikael couldn't see the blood elf through his hair, but he could feel her movements through the bed, and could feel the fur shifting and tugging as she moved; he froze as she slid up next to him and hugged his arm.

"_Promise me something," _she whispered.

"_Anything," _Mikael replied instantly, then mentally swore at himself for speaking before thinking.

"_Don't die on my account," _Tal'Thera said quietly, resting her head on his shoulder. "_Don't die for me."_

_ "I can't promise that," _he muttered after a moment. He went to stand but she held on, so he merely sat up and tried to keep from looking at her.

"_I thought you said anything," _she laughed bitterly. "_I don't want to see you killed because of me."_

'I could say the same thing,' Mikael thought to himself grimly. "_I spoke before thinking. I'm sorry, but I cannot promise that."_ He made no effort to move then, letting her remain attached to his side; a very odd feeling was forming in the pit of his stomach, and once again he had that feeling of balancing on a knife's edge.

"_Then promise me something else," _Tal'Thera finally said into the silence.

"_Ask and I'll tell you if I can."_

She let go of his arm and lifted it instead, pulling it around herself as she shifted again and tugged herself into his lap. With her face barely inches from his own, he stared into green eyes as gentle hands came around his neck and found the clasp to his necklace and removed it, letting it drop to the bed beside them. Now those hands came up the back of his head, knotting painlessly into his hair.

'So I can't escape,' he thought, the idea tinged with a surge of wary excitement.

He closed his eyes as they came together and savored her taste and smell; a small voice in the back of his mind was telling him that this was wrong, that he was a dead man and this was cruel to do to her, and he should stop this before it went too far...his heart, however, was stating something entirely different as he toppled off his knife edge. He told his inner voices to shut up and let his heart take over, letting it guide his hands to her waist and pull her close - he was amazed any of him knew what it was doing he was so inexperienced in this area.

It was her who broke the connection between them, but only to rest her forehead against his, still pressed to him and not showing any intention of letting go.

"_I think...I can promise that," _he said softly, wondering at himself as he said it. The little voices inside his head were back and in full force this time

'What are you doing?' they were screaming at him. And maybe they were right...what WAS he doing? He was way out of his depth here. If the blood elves didn't execute him after this, he'd be incredibly surprised, assuming he even survived long enough to weather their retribution for daring to be intimate with a female of their race. And her race itself was a problem: he wasn't foolish enough to entertain thoughts of a future with her, but even if he was stupid to think such things...he was a human, and she a blood elf. She would live much, much longer than he would...was this even fair to either of them? How had this happened anyway? As reckless as he tended to be with his own life his lifespan was probably shortened by a few decades anyhow.

"_I'm already dead..."_

Tal'Thera pulled back far enough to look at him questioningly, and he simply shook his head.

"_I was merely thinking aloud, sorry."_

_ "What did you mean by it?" _she asked, sliding down in his lap so she could rest her head on his shoulder, her forehead pressed to his neck and her arms wrapped around him.

He cradled her, stroking her hair as he tried to find words to explain it. "_I meant...your people...well. If we manage to survive however long it takes to sort this mess out, what then? Where is this heading? We shouldn't be doing this...we can't stay together. There's no future for us – you can't stay with me among the Alliance, and I can't stay with you among the Horde. When this is all over, you'll be taken back to Silvermoon and I'll be dismissed back home. We shouldn't be treading this path..."_

_ "Don't focus on the time we'll be apart," _she said softly. "_We are together now, we'll find a way."_

_ "Is this fair? To you though?" _he went on. "_Even if we manage to somehow find a way, you're going to outlive me. You're probably going to outlive me anyway, as I don't know that I'll come out of this alive...I'll die before I let anything happen to you."_

"_You've corrupted me beyond all hope," _she whispered. "_Your stories of your travels...I want to see the world now, I won't be able to bear returning to my little box and meekly serving my people."_

_ "You've grown quite bold lately."_

_ "Only because you make me want to be bold, and if the alternative is losing you...I want to live. I want a life of my own, and I want you in it. Your stories and your touch, Mikael. There is no redeeming me now, no going back to what I once was. Don't tell me you cannot, because you may one day die, because there doesn't seem to be a place for us...is it living if you're too frightened of your own demise?"_

_ "I don't fear death, Tal'Thera. I've seen it more than once, and I do not fear it...I just don't want to leave you alone and in pain."_

_ "Life is pain," _she laughed shortly. "_It is how we know we're alive. What I had was not living, merely existing."_

_ "How can we even be so certain about this?" _Mikael asked then in a quiet voice. "_I feel like my entire world has been yanked out from under me like a carpet."_

_ "I do not know...I always had this notion that my heart would have all the answers. I would see a man and know 'this is him. This is the one fate had in mind for me.' I would simply know, because my heart knew."_

_ "And does it?"_

_ "It's too busy telling me how very wonderful this is right now. What does yours say?"_

_ "That I'd be a fool to walk away from you."_

_ "Then we have our answers."_

For what seemed like ages they simply held one another, each keeping their thoughts to themselves; for Mikael it felt like his brain was waging war. His logic was stating that this couldn't happen, it wasn't happening, and that he was a fool for even believing any of this; his pessimism and sense of mortality were telling him this was a cruel joke by fate, giving him a brief taste of happiness before ripping it from him in unforeseeable ways. He barely knew this female. He knew nothing of love, nothing of what it should feel like or be like, nothing to compare it to and judge and say 'this is it, this is what love is.' Was it love, or the beginning of love, or was he off the mark entirely?

For once his heart seemed the more rational of anything in him. This was right and good and pure, to hell with the rest of the world and his damned logic. It didn't care whether he considered his days numbered or not, it pretended now to know nothing of his personal fears or any of the guilt and shame he'd carried with him the last five years; everything he'd ever kept carefully hidden was now bared to the one he held against him. She'd heard him talk about his inner demons, but what did they really matter? The past was gone and over with, and had no bearing on the events of the here and now.

Time, he needed time. Time to think, to plan, time to love. And for now, he realized, he had it.

He tightened his hold on her, closing his eyes again; Tal'Thera kissed his neck then resumed her previous position, head tucked in against him.

Come what may, he would protect this woman to his dying breath.

* * *

After Loganaar's declaration, Saliea had stood and excused herself and Pit.

"He hasn't eaten since he arrived here, and I'm rather afraid the Nightmare is beyond my understanding," she said dryly when Fandral demanded to know where she was going. "You both know much more about this than I do, you two discuss while I take care of our guest."

"You were instructed on what the Nightmare was," Fandral growled.

Saliea stood to face him, hands on her hips as for once it was _her _who towered over him, she standing and he sitting. "Oh yes, I know exactly what the Nightmare is if you count the basest definition given to all learning druids, but only those who actively walk the Dream know what it is. I have never seen it, near or from afar, I know very little about it, you do not need my expertise here and if I'm not mistaken you're going to forbid me from walking the Dream to learn about it myself. Am I right?" she added smugly as Fandral's expression twisted from one of rage to one of mere simmering irritation.

"Go feed him," he growled slowly. "And then return here. Any insights you or the blood elf may have will be useful."

"You can rest assured I'll be back once I've seen to Pit's needs," she said coldly. "And to those of my husband, or have you forgotten I possess a life beyond your commandments?"

Before the Archdruid could reply - and it would be a scathing comment, as angry as he had to be - Saliea had guided Pit from the room and down the stairs back out into the night. There had never truly been many visitors to Moonglade - druids came and went as they pleased, but it was much harder for other races to get here, and few had any reason to conduct their business in this place anyhow - and so there wasn't a true inn or tavern to be found in the entire town of Nighthaven, but Saliea knew where one could go to buy a meal and a place to rest, a pseudo-inn run by a female named Virlori.

Virlori, if she was surprised to see a blood elf, didn't show much other than cheerful acceptance as she settled them both at a low table in a back room in her inn and brought them dinner. It was a simple meal of a stew full of vegetables - no meat - and bread baked that morning, and Saliea's own stomach was growling as the female set bowls in front of them and politely asked if they wanted wine or a juice of their choosing. Virlori, at Saliea's choice, brought them a pitcher of chilled juice that tasted strongly of grapes and some sort of citrus fruit, then left them to their meal and disappeared back toward the front room of the building.

"_Sorry it's so simple," _Sal said then, switching to Orcish so Pit - who had been sitting quietly, politely cofused - could understand her. "_We missed the actual meal by a few hours."_

_ "It beats travel biscuit, jerky, and stream water," _was all he said with a shrug, waiting for her to begin eating before he did himself.

Saliea felt a tad guilty, eating without Sevei and wondering if he too was hungry, but she would be returning to him soon enough - and if he was hungry he no doubt would have found something by now. As usual, without the draenei around, she felt lonely and wished for his company; these last five years they'd rarely been out of one another's sight, and since coming to Moonglade in one day they'd been away from each other longer than they'd been their entire marriage. His obvious absence gnawed at her and further reinforced her notion that they were really like two halves of the same person, something she'd never told him because even she thought it was a silly idea at times, but it certainly explained how they'd both fallen head over heels for each other in such a short time.

Donnovan had once said he felt the same way about Salindra, Saliea's mother, like she completed him.

'It's how you know it's what the world intended,' the rogue had said the one time they'd discussed Donnovan's romance of her mother. 'It feels so right that anything else doesn't make sense. You complete one another, no one else will do.'

She certainly felt out of sorts without him around...perhaps her father was correct.

Saliea jerked back out of her musings when she realized Pit was staring at her.

"_I'm sorry...did you say something?"_

_ "No. You merely began staring a hole in the table, I was wondering what was wrong," _the blood elf replied, returning to his bowl of stew.

"_I was thinking of my husband. We're still hopelessly in love," _she said, smiling.

"_Anyone who manages to find someone to tolerate them is lucky. Lucky night elf," _Pit said in between bites.

"_Lucky draenei, actually."_

Pit choked a bit before swallowing. "_You don't say?"_

_ "Just don't call me names or attempt to touch something you shouldn't and he'll leave you alone," _she chuckled.

"_Done and done," _he muttered, scooping out his last spoonful and sitting his empty bowl back on the table. "_When will I be permitted to return home?"_

Saliea sighed and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands. "_I don't know. Lord Staghelm may keep you around simply because it was you who carried what they believe may be a solid bit of the Nightmare here. He will no doubt badger you with questions you have no answers for, and then get angry when you can't answer him, but eventually he may forget about you or become so annoyed with you he'll send you away just to get you out of his sight."_

Pit twitched uncomfortably. "_Pleasant sort of man."_

_ "Try having lived your entire life with him breathing down your neck." _She stood up. "_If you're done, I need to collect my husband and my student and then we can go back to sitting in the corner until Staghelm decides he wants our opinions."_

Pit stood with her and she paid Virlori as they went out, Saliea leading the way to Bessany's home. She peeked in the window to see Sevei playing silent sentinel over a small form in the floor - it looked like Darae didn't want to sleep without company, or maybe having a tauren staring at him was too strange for him. She silently opened the door, motioning for Pit to remain outside; the blood elf nodded and slung his backpack to the ground at his feet as she slipped inside the darkened home. Sevei noticed her presence immediately and his welcoming kiss and hug swept her off her feet.

"How long has he been sleeping?" she asked in a whisper when he finally put her down.

"Not very, I believe he only just nodded off," the draenei whispered back. "He...he could hear the elements outside his room, Saliea. He couldn't understand what they were saying, but he heard them. He will need to make a choice, and soon."

She nodded, looking down at the boy's sleeping form. "He will, I've no doubt of it. But we need to wake him and go back to Fandral, we may have something that is the key to all of this mess."

Sevei raised an eyebrow but she didn't explain, bending instead to gently shake Darae's shoulder; the boy instantly jerked awake and blinked sleepily up at her, but silently sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Is it morning yet?" he asked, stifling a yawn.

"Not yet, sorry to wake you," she said with a smile. "Lord Staghelm requires our presence though, and I didn't want you to wake up alone."

"I didn't know I'd fallen asleep," Darae said, covering his mouth as he yawned again. "I'll be okay," he said firmly before either adult could say anything.

Saliea smiled. "I know you will, come on."

She led the way out of the dwelling, stepping out first with Sevei behind her and Darae bringing up the rear, and as Darae crossed the doorstep several things happened at once.

The first was Saliea noticed how stiffly Pit was standing, and that he held his hands up with his palms facing her, and his head was cocked back.

"_MOVE druid!" _he screamed at her.

The next thing that happened was the arrival of several of those scary snake creatures, all popping up from the ground like weeds - but that couldn't be right, he'd heard the blood elf yell something...

But no, these were new creatures. These had spidery legs, six of them, and long sinuous tails whipping behind them like they had a mind of their own. Their eyes were set closer together and looked faceted, their mouths a bloody gash stretching from one side of their rounded heads to the other like a split melon. They were still scaly, and big, and the tips of those legs looked like they were sharp, but these were something new entirely.

At once Pit was sent sprawling face-first into the ground as whatever had held him captive gave him a shove; Sevei's weapons were in his hands faster than Darae could track, and the boy looked away as the axes burst into flame even as his shan'do let out an ear-piercing roar, but even as he was recovering from the sight something seized him from behind and spun him, then a hand tightened around his neck and lifted him bodily from the ground.

"Drop your weapons and maybe I won't kill da boy," said a rough voice, the owner of the hand wrapped around Darae's throat.

A female troll stood in the near-complete darkness of Bessany's doorway, dangling Darae in front of her like a living shield, only half her face visible in the moonlight.

Saliea slowly turned to face her, a growl coming from between bared teeth and growing louder by the minute. The troll responded by tightening her grip, drawing a choked, pained gurgle from Darae; instantly the druid reverted back to her elven form, remaining on the ground in a kneeling position as the ring of monsters around them tightned.

"Put him down and fight me, coward," the druid snarled. "Hiding behind a child, despicable."

The troll laughed, a sinister sound that sent chills running down Darae's back. "Saliea Silvermist. I have come for you. Will you trade yourself for the life of one worthless boy?"

'Worthless boy?' an outraged voice in Darae head shrieked. 'You stupid troll!' Up until this point he'd been trying to pry the troll's fingers from around his neck, gasping and wheezing as he struggled to breath, his own body weight strangling him in her grasp. Now he let go with one hand and began to search his pockets for something, anything, that may help him get free before his shan'do agreed to trade her life for his, for he knew that's what she would certainly do.

In fact, just as his fingers closed upon and pulled free the feather Remulos had given him, Saliea's mouth was already opening, ready to deliver her surrender in return for Darae's safety. He had scant seconds to act; he held up the feather where he could see it.

'I'll know what to do with it,' he thought to himself - isn't that what Remulos had told him? 'What can I do with this thing though?'

Without hardly thinking, he did about the only thing that instantly came to mind: he jammed the feather up the troll's nose.

It startled her, and instinctively she let go of him and reached to pull the annoyance out of her nostril; Darae hit the ground and rolled away even as Saliea darted forward.

"RUN!" she shouted, seizing his collar and dragging him backwards, then tossing him over her shoulder - with a strength that didn't seem to fit her size - and turning to run.

Sevei bellowed and charged, axes sweeping out as he ran forward and scattered the creatures surrounding them; Saliea stayed close behind, Darae slung over her shoulder still, and she even had the sense of mind to grab Pit by the sleeve and haul him upright, the elf grabbing his backpack as he stumbled up to his feet. They ran before those behind them could regain their senses and pursue; Darae wanted very much to run under his own power, but knew that his short legs would never keep up with the adults, and he'd be putting then in danger if he argued to run on his own. Maybe he really WAS a worthless boy...

Slung as he was over his shan'do's shoulder he couldn't see where they were going, but he could certainly see that the weird, new monsters were now giving chase.

"They're coming, they're coming!" he shouted to them.

The placement of the monsters and the direction they were running meant they were running out of Nighthaven into the open area between the town and the mountains. Saliea had no doubt that the entire town had to have heard her roar, and even though she was incredibly confused over this new breed of nightmarish creature and the fact that she had still retained her hearing, she nevertheless quickened her pace.

"We need a plan," she shouted as they ran, beginning to pant slightly.

Sevei opened his mouth to reply, then to her astonishment seemed to trip over his own hooves, his full weight crashing into the ground; she overran him by several meters and had to circle back around, swinging Darae down to his feet, Pit narrowly missing colliding with her.

"_They're coming," _the blood elf said, staring back the way they'd come.

"Sevei?" she breathed, reaching out to roll the draenei over. He'd hit the ground face-first and hadn't moved at all. At first she thought he'd merely knocked the wind out of himself, but he should have recovered by now.

"_Still coming..."_

She ignored him and rolled Sevei to his back, gasping as she took in his appearance. A very stricken, panicked look was evident on his features, and as she knelt there his hands suddenly clapped over his ears.

"Sevei? What's wrong?" she asked, trying to get him to look at her.

"_Really close now..."_

"S-shan'do," Darae said nervously, eyes wide as twisting shapes in the darkness came into view.

Saliea, with a helpless glance at her husband, went to stand, but Pit held out a hand and motioned for her to stay down.

"_Stand back, I think I can handle this."_

_ "You think?"_

_ "Well, we'll find out rather quickly whether I can or cannot," _he said grimly, rolling back the sleeves of his robes. The blood elf began to chant, gesturing at the shapes in the dark and sending wave after wave of magic at them; there really seemed to be no effect, whether the things were dodging or simply impervious not apparent.

"_Hmm. Okay. Let's try this," _Pit muttered, going into far more elaborate castings. These had more of a visible effect, as some of the creatures simply seemed to melt on the spot and soul-chilling screams of pain reached their ears. "_Keep trying to rouse the draenei," _the blood elf said after a moment, trying spell after spell as he attempted to find whatever seemed the most effective.

Suddenly, the night quieted as all the creatures disappeared from view.

"_Hmm," _Pit mused into the silence. "_Nothing I did seemed to work well..."_

"Are they gone?" Darae asked timidly.

Pit didn't understand a word the boy said, and thus ignored him as he bent down and upended his backpack. A wooden tube and an odd assortment of random gizmos hit the ground and the elf went to work over it, snapping things together and screwing things on, quickly and efficiently building a...

Something. Saliea, when she looked up from unsuccessfully trying to help alleviate whatever pain Sevei was in, couldn't tell for the life of her what the blood elf held in his hands, but he calmly selected a metal tubing this time and slid it down the wooden one. There was a rustling out in the shadows - the creatures had returned, even if they couldn't see them. Saliea stood up, intending to do what she could to protect everyone, and looked over to see Pit running his hands over the _thing. _Whatever he had put together looked like a winged, finned gun...

"_Pit..." _she said slowly, "_what is that?"_

_ "Plug your ears," _he said cheerfully, taking aim.

Whatever his little gadget was let out a deafening bang and a flash of light and smoke; something hissed away from them, the afterimages in Sal's eyes faded only to be replaced a moment later as something detonated ahead of them. There were the brief outlines of the creatures chasing them and then a blast of heat and light washed over them and made vision impossible; a moment later all was silent, incredibly silent after the explosion. Small fires in the grass burned here and there, and it took a minute for Saliea to realize it was the remains of the creatures that were on fire - when the sickening scent of burning flesh reached her nose, she knew for certain.

Sevei still lay beneath her, unresponsive, and Darae had flattened himself to the ground, hands over his ears; he looked up at her, stunned, but began to climb to his feet as Saliea slowly turned her head toward Pit.

Or where Pit had been standing a moment before. In the dirt, leading away from where he'd been while aiming that..._contraption_...were a set a skid marks, set about a shoulder's width apart and leading off toward...

A bush, that had a pair of feet sticking out of it.

"_Pit?"_

_ "I appear to be stuck on a branch," _came the muffled reply as the bush shook. "_Did I get them?"_

The urge to throttle him warred with the urge to laugh hysterically: why was it every blood elf she knew was crazy? It had to be the arcane addiction, it must addle their brains.

She turned back to Sevei, determined to leave him to find his own way out of the bush, when Darae whimpered.

"Shan'do..."

Her gaze snapped up to see new creatures clawing their way out of the ground, tails twitching, far more than she could hope to handle. Sevei had, to all appearances, fallen comatose - she had no idea what was wrong with him, he was not injured and if it was a mental attack she had no help for him anyway.

Slowly she stood, feeling a familiar, irrational anger coming over her, the comforting feeling of her feral instincts beginning to well up inside of her mind and body; she always was very careful to remain in control of herself, to keep her night elven mind while wearing the form of her animal totems. In a very few instances she had allowed the feral nature within her take over, let the beast within overcome the night elf; it was frightening to immerse yourself in a completely alien mind of a beast, but now...now she needed that beast. She needed that unwavering will to fight and kill and survive, and did not need the temperance of her night elven mind holding her back.

'...six, seven, eight, nine. Nine of them,' she counted silently, while she still understood the concept of counting.

Even her feral nature was telling her this was a battle lost, but the burning desire to taste hot blood was beginning to overwhelm her. She dropped forward, landing on all fours.

'Come and get me,' she growled.

* * *

Jin'Loki watched from a nearby tree as her minions encircled the little group. She didn't know what was wrong with the draenei, nor did she care: her objective was to take the druid and her son. She'd had the boy in her grasp and had been stupid enough to let him go - so stupid!

But it didn't matter, all she needed to do was to throw enough minions at the druid until she tired or fell; it was a simple matter of keeping her alive, and exhausted she would prove an easy target, even if by some miracle she managed to defeat those servants Jin'Loki had gathered here.

Smugly, Jin'Loki crossed her arms and leaned against the trunk behind her, eagerly anticipating a good, bloody fight, already feeling giddy and aroused as she thought of the lovely red liquid staining the ground beneath the combatants. She began to pant as the druid and the first of her servants came together, admiring the mindless, violent way the druid tore into the beast without so much as a hint of hesitation, as the blood and the entrails flew.

Below her, to the side of the battling druid and the creatures, the troublesome blood elf was picking himself up out of the bush with the help of the boy; she'd have both of them soon enough, all she needed to do was wait for the druid to fall - whatever that blood elf had done to blow her first group of minions to smithereens wouldn't work a second time, she'd see to that.

Smiling to herself she returned her attention to the druid and watched her rip apart another of her servants. These ones were infinitely better than the previous mindless ones - this time she could hear the fighting, hear the ripping and rending of flesh and the splatter of blood. Those silencing auras that clung to the others took all the fun out of the carnage; idly Jin'Loki wondered what the blood of the druid tasted like, and so focused was she on the probable taste that she missed entirely the whistling noise that preceded a rain of arrows so concentrated that they fell like rain.

Her minions, the ones not immediately engaged in battle with the druid, were pinned to the earth and torn apart by the volley; if Jin'Loki hadn't been totally taken off-guard by the attack she would have grudgingly admired the accuracy in which they'd been fired, for the pattern of arrows had been in a protective ring around the druid, and a separate ring around the blood elf and young night elf standing near the helpless, prone draenei. The druid looked up from her suddenly-dead opponent and roared her rage to the sky, then yowled and simply fell over lifeless, reverting back to her night elf form as she fell senseless.

"No!" Jin'Loki snarled, eyes riveted on the scene below. "Did they kill her?"

"Nope, but we kill you."

Jin'Loki threw herself away from the trunk of the tree just as a knife flashed where her neck had been a moment before; another troll, dressed head to toe in black cloth and with a mask covering most of his face, was emerging from the trunk, seeming to ooze out like water. Jin'Loki backed down the branch she stood on, and a change in the air behind her was warning enough to tell her another enemy was at her back. She dove from the branch as the two trolls, the one out of the trunk and the one who had materialized on the branch, lunged for her; as she fell she spun around and pulled daggers from her belt, throwing as she plummeted for the ground.

The troll that had emerged from the branch ducked and dropped out of sight, her weapon flying harmlessly through empty air, but the other was struck in the shoulder and slammed backward into the tree, sliding down to straddle the branch; as Jin'Loki nimbly landed on the ground far below, he reached up with shaking fingers and pulled the blade free, letting it drop to the earth as his head dropped down to his chest.

She glared up at the still figure, then spun and sprinted toward the druid and the others - if anything, she would snatch the female and run for it, but she found that plan to be useless as four more shapes leapt from the trees and landed between her and her target.

Forced to run back toward the tree, Jin'Loki snarled and gestured; the shadows at the side of the tree deepened and opened, and she darted into them and faded from sight, several daggers and a few arrows thudding ineffectively into the tree as the troll disappeared.

Of the four figures the one on the very end straightened and motioned to its fellows; two of them broke away and bounded up the tree to check on their injured companion. Out of the dark beneath the tree the troll that had jumped from the branch came out and joined the one who had gestured; the supposed leader pointed, and the jumper and the last remaining troll moved purposely toward the druid laying motionless in the grass.

Darae launched himself at them, beating at them with his fists.

"Get away from my shan'do!"

"Quiet," one of the trolls snapped, cracking his open hand into the side of Darae's neck. The night elf boy dropped without a further sound, the troll who had hit him catching him before he fully collapsed and slinging him over his shoulder like Saliea had only moments before. The other troll with him easily picked up Saliea and tossed her to his companion so the one troll had both Darae and Saliea hanging off his shoulders.

"Where be Bentar?" the leader asked.

The two trolls in the tree dropped down, shaking their heads as they approached.

"Dead," one of them said.

"Poisoned dagger, da dirty bitch," the other added, holding out the weapon. "We placed him into da tree."

The leader sighed heavily, then looked over to where a final troll, this one appearing to be the only female of the bunch, had the blood elf bent backwards, nearly in two, with a sword held to his throat.

"Dis one?"

"Take 'im," the leader ordered.

The female nodded and reversed her grip on the sword, slamming the pommel between the elf's eyes; Pit slumped unconscious over her knee and she carted him as easily as the others had manhandled Saliea and Darae. The two trolls that had jumped down from the tree bent to hoist Sevei between them, then the entire group leapt for the tree that now held the troll Bentar's remains; they passed through the wood as though it wasn't there and disappeared from sight.


	14. Chapter 14

The bodies had...what? Melted? Decomposed? Into what they had been prior to being twisted into the monsters that had attacked the druidess and her friends, and now they were burning. The black sludge itself had put out the fire on a few of the bodies, leaving a grisly mess to be sorted out if any sort of identifying was to be done.

Those that had been slain by arrows, however, had not decomposed for they were not truly "dead." They lay pinned to the ground, in a state of suspension, playing pincushion to the projectiles jutting out of their bodies. Shimmering, dark streaks of lightning surrounded each arrow, dancing between one another in what was an impressive, and macabre, display of magical energy. Where they jumped from arrow to arrow, the little sparks of energy were knitting flesh together, pulling pieces back to where they belonged and searing them together; the creatures being slowly reassembled couldn't move, could not show any outward sign of pain, but in their primitive minds they were shrieking in uncontrollable agony.

Finally, the arrows simply dissipated - weapons made of concentrated shadow magic, born of the old voodoo knowledge of the trolls, left no physical remains behind. Perhaps the trolls that had fired them would have thought twice if they'd known the effect the projectiles would have on the monstrous beings, but the newly healed beasts stood up in unison, now giving voice to their pain, making mewling noises that could have easily been mistaken for that of a kitten.

These weren't kittens, not even remotely so, though. After picking themselves up they shuffled together into the same shadows their mistress had vanished into and within moments had vanished themselves, leaving the muddled piles of gore that had been the rest of their attack group behind.

* * *

It would be said later, behind his back when they believed he wasn't listening, but no one could, in recent memory, recall a time when they had seen the Archdruid _sprint. _

Saliea's roar had indeed been heard by nearly every resident of Nighthaven, and had instantly sent Fandral's stomach plummeting through the floor. He'd recognize her cry anywhere, who would _dare-!_

And now he and Loganaar, and a group of wardens and some of Fandral's own Cenarion druids, raced to where the roar had originated from, relying on the confused citizens around them to guide them to the proper spot. They traveled where the others were looking, some calling out to ask what had happened but quickly falling silent as it was apparent it was the Archdruid himself who ran among them; finally they came to Bessany's home, where the tauren was bent over the ground just outside her doorstep.

She looked up as Staghelm approached, waiting for him to speak. Fandral was panting - him? Panting? - and licked his lips.

"Where?"

Bessany slowly shook her head. "They left here to return to _you, _my lord." She held up a hand where, pinched between two fingers, was a very rumpled feather. "I'm so sorry, I was in my room when they left, and I heard Saliea and came running, but by then they were gone. A great deal of shadows were chasing them...perhaps herding them," she added quietly. "Something exploded as well."

Fandral felt his innards painfully twist and very quickly swallowed down the anger threatening to overwhelm him; Bessany was a healer and a researcher, she would have been absolutely worthless if a fight had indeed broke out here, best that she had been out of the way...but DAMN her for having seen nothing!

"Spread out!" Fandral ordered, growing even angrier as he realized his voice was wavering. "Find me their trail!"

Seconds later a warden, a male tauren, was calling for them; several yards away he was kneeling over a scuff in the dirt, a partial boot print, and was determining which direction it pointed. By the time Fandral stood over the tauren, he had already straightened and was pointing off ahead of them.

"It travels that way, I...wait, do you smell that?" the tauren interrupted himself, inhaling deeply.

Fandral inhaled deeply, then shuddered and clapped a hand over his nose. "Flesh. Burning."

"Coming from...that direction, oh dear," the tauren said, trailing off.

Fandral was already running that direction, the rest following behind and not daring to say anything for fear of provoking the druid, and Fandral was very close to that volatile stage where anything would set him off.

His stomach was a mess of churning nerves, sick with fear as his mind began to race, began to invent fates for his foster daughter.

'She's dead, she's gone, she's hurt and needs me, where are you, what happened, she's dead she has to be dead, where is she?' repeated over and over in his mind. Valstann was also just below his line of conscious thought, but this time an image of Saliea joined that of his dead son.

'Just please be alive,' he pleaded. 'Cenarius...please, be alive, just let her be alive.'

He wished he'd raised her, he'd regretted being unable to keep Salindra's promise - Valstann had shown him just how dangerous it was to be connected with him, and with his dead son in mind Fandral had given Saliea away to a family that was not so prominent in night elf society. He'd seen she'd never wanted for anything without being doting, he'd purposely kept her at arm's length and never truly shown her anything other than an annoyed acknowledgment of her existence, all the while watching with interest as she grew to adulthood and became one of his Cenarions. Always careful how he acted toward her, always making sure she stayed away from the attention of the world, agonizing as she served in the Alliance military forces and earning her rank among them, carefully guarding the truth behind their relationship to one another, squashing any affection he might have shown her as she was growing up. He loved her, he truly did...he would never admit it, but he did. And now...

He'd wanted to keep her safe...he'd wanted to keep her from being another Valstann in his mind. It had never been easy, trying in his own way to keep her from harm; wars and fighting, even druidic training was a dangerous path. Fandral had done what he could without being intrusive, walking a fine line between overbearing and protective - he knew Saliea had always considered him overbearing and overprotective, and he disguised his true feelings behind a curtain of anger...

Gods, the last thing he had done was argue with her. If she was gone now...he'd never forgive himself, never.

The fear deepened into something more sickening when they found the bodies laying in a circle of scorched, brittle grass. Fandral was the first to dive to one and began tearing at the muck that clung to it, feverishly cleaning it all away until he found himself staring into the dead eyes of -

For a moment he almost retched. This was a dead night elf female he held in his arms - green haired and slight, but not his Saliea. These were not her eyes, dark as they were in death; this body, now that he took the time to look, was too long to be his little daughter. Slowly he let it sink back into its pile of black crud, ignoring the stuff that clung to him now as he stood, shaking.

"Clean the bodies," he ordered, surprised at how calm he'd managed to sound. "If anyone recognizes anyone, let me know and...I'm sorry."

Fandral moved on to the next closest as those with him began to spread out among the bodies; his hearing seemed deadened as he listened with half a mind, the grass crackling under his feet as minutes later - that seemed instead like an eternity - the wardens and those few druids with him began to call out to one another.

"Female tauren, looks...juvenile."

"Male orc."

"Male troll...I think, burned beyond recognition."

"Human male, old, wearing knight's colors."

"Female dwarf, or maybe a gnome...or a child, I can't tell."

Each report filtered through his mind and was filed away for later, his mind easily sorting them into 'Not Saliea' and 'everyone else.' Blankly he stared down at the body he was cleaning off, not even remotely bothered by the fact that the flesh was coming off on his hands just as easily as the gunk was; he was getting covered in it and not caring at all. He couldn't even tell what race this one was, only that it wasn't Saliea.

It was a small relief that none of the bodies, once examined, proved to be any of those missing - Darae, Sevei, and Saliea were simply gone.

With that knowledge in mind, Fandral felt his anger devour his fear and slowly begin to cool - not in the sense that it was going away, but that it was blossoming into a very dangerous rage.

"Fetch Tyrande," he ordered quietly. He fixed each of those with him with a glare when no one moved immediately. "Fetch her, _now. _I don't care if you have to drag her out of her temple, just get her here."

At once three of the night elf wardens turned and ran into the darkness, and left their Archdruid kneeling, filthy and shaking, amongst the dead with the rest of the wardens and druids gathered around him. Fandral turned his face to the sky, and waited.

* * *

Tyrande arrived very quickly via the services of Elissa Dumas, a female human mage stationed in the temple to assist in travel between Darnassus and the rest of the world. With the High Priestess was a solemn male draenei, clad head to toe in brown-tinted mail and with a longbow slung over his back, pacing several steps respectively behind her.

Or maybe not out of respect, because every few steps he took he would pause and peer closely at the ground. He was tracking something.

Tyrande raised a hand in greeting though her face was grim. "Fandral."

Fandral stood silently as the priestess approached, inhaling deeply.

She didn't waste any time. "This is Tralor," she said quietly, gesturing to the draenei. "He was in the temple when you called for me, and has graciously offered his services as a tracker."

Tralor straightened, then bowed formally to the Archdruid; he was bald and had no horns, nor did he possess any of the facial tendrils typical of his race. When he straightened again Fandral could see a mess of scars crisscrossing the male's chest and jawline - now he saw why Tralor had no tendrils.

Tyrande nodded to Tralor and the draenei pursed his lips and let out a shrill whistle. There was a rustling nearby, then an odd creature shuffled into view; it stood on four spider-like legs and had a crescent-shaped body with a scrunched-up insectoid face full of teeth and beady, red-glowing eyes. It was a dark green and had black spikes running in pairs from the crown of its head down its back, and it obediently walked up to Tralor and thrust its hideous head under the draenei's outstretched hand.

"This is Riptide, a ravager and my companion," Tralor said quietly. He scratched the underside of the ravager's chin, then gripped it on either side of the head and pressed their faces together for the briefest of instants, then let go and watched as the ravager obediently moved off and began to sniff along the ground. Tralor himself knelt and, blinking slowly the entire time, began to survey the ground at their feet as well.

Tyrande stepped aside and slowly drew Fandral with her, hiding her surprise as the druid simply followed her, not even bothering to pull himself free of her grasp.

Tralor bent even closer to the ground, supporting himself on hands and knees, appearing to press his cheek to the ground and look at it through one eye.

"I examined the tracks back at the home of the tauren," he said in that soft voice of his. "Whoever attacked the mistress Silverwind and her family had been hiding in that home, and the tauren had no idea." He squinted, then pushed himself up into a kneeling position and lightly brushed his fingers over the grass. "From there, they pursued...them this way, mistress Silverwind and the others with a large lead on whomever was doing the pursuing. Many, many creatures," he added, turning over blades of grass to reveal what looked like a puncture mark in the dirt. "Too numerous for me to guess at, the tracks are too confused, but they were multi-legged creatures...perhaps they ran on their toes? All tracks are of this mark, much like those my Riptide leaves behind when he runs."

Riptide growled, pawing at the ground; Tralor nodded to the ravager. "One moment, my friend."

The draenei turned to look up at the two night elf leaders, gesturing to their left to a depression in the grass. "Further tracks left behind by mistress Silverwind suggest that there, her husband the shaman fell."

Fandral twitched involuntarily, but he was seemingly entranced by the quiet hunter's commentary as the draenei stood and moved over to the spot he had just pointed at.

Tralor ran his hands over the grass, nodding to himself. "Yes. Here, Sevei fell. There is no blood, however, no sign that an injury felled him...but here, here," Tralor went on, shuffling about on his knees back several inches. "Right here...scrapes in the dirt. Was he lifted? Was he dragged? There are marks where hooves drug the ground for a brief instant here."

To Tyrande, and to Fandral, the grass truthfully didn't look any different but they remained silent as suddenly the draenei seemed to tip over he bent down to the ground so quickly. "But wait, here...here is a new track, TWO new tracks..."

Again Riptide growled, and Tralor pried his face from the ground and stood, moving quickly to where the ravager waited several feet away. It stabbed one of its legs into the ground where a set of twin furrows were carved into the earth; now Tralor knelt here and gently stroked where the furrows began.

"Someone was standing here, and...dragged off?" he asked no one in particular, his fingers tracing an outline of a pair of footprints only just faintly visible before the marks. "They began here and ended...where?" the draenei mused, turning to look. His gaze fell on a bush that was nearby. "The branches are broken." Crouching, the draenei slid over to the bush and examined it. "Someone landed here, but someone also came out of, this bush. And there are more tracks here," he added, nodding. He traced them with a finger. "...these are troll tracks, but who do the boots belong to?"

For several more moments the draenei paced the area, bending here and there to touch or examine the ground, his ravager Riptide making its rounds as it sniffed and poked about. Finally, Tralor straightened and faced his silent audience of wardens, and Tyrande and Fandral.

"Here is what I believe happened here, based on the tracks I have found," he said with a short bow. "They ran from the tauren's home to here, perhaps herded, perhaps not. What matters is they were pursued here, but here is something surprising..." He pointed directly at his own feet. "These new tracks, these troll tracks, _begin _here."

"Begin here?" Tyrande echoed, looking confused. "What do you mean?"  
"I mean, the tracks begin here in this bush, and -"

Riptide had circled around the trees and let out a sharp growl from where he stood.

"-and there, at that tree. Whoever those trolls were, they must have been waiting here a long time," Tralor said quietly. "There is no visible sign they arrived here this evening." Now he shrugged his shoulders, the longbow on his back rattling quietly against his armor. "The shaman fell there, and mistress Silverwind turned to assist him. There is a much lighter set of footprints here, belonging to the boy I believe, suggesting he stopped with the two adults. The trolls...I cannot tell where they came from, but..." and now he paused, looking slightly uncertain.

"But what?" Fandral prompted, feeling emotion surge back - mostly anger, but still that sickening fear was there.

"I cannot tell where they are from, but to all appearances it looks like an ambush. These trolls were here, waiting."

Everyone remained silent, and Tralor cleared his throat quietly. "I see tracks from several trolls, seven, eight, ten? Hard to tell, they are all mixed together. I also see the tracks left behind by mistress Silverwind, the shaman, and the boy...however, this set here," he said, gesturing to the furrows that led to the bush. "I know not who these belong to. Was someone else with them?"

Silence, then Fandral exhaled noisily. "The blood elf..." He turned to glance sharply at Tyrande. "The blood elf, there was a blood elf with them. The one ejected from the Emerald Dream when Loganaar and Pathora entered." Fandral then felt a sudden surge of anger and dread. "_Him."_

"What?" Tyrande asked, looking at him. "Who was this blood elf, and why was he in Moonglade? What do you mean he was ejected from the Emerald Dream?"

Ignoring her - and everyone else - the Archdruid began to pace, stroking his beard as his mind raced. If the trolls had known exactly where to ambush Saliea and the others...what if, _what if-!_

"It was the blood elf," he growled suddenly, startling Tyrande beside him.

"What?"

"The blood elf," he repeated. "Tralor himself said this looked like an ambush. The Horde MUST be behind these disappearances!"

Tyrande simply stared at him a moment, then shook her head. "I'm afraid I didn't follow your leap of logic, could you explain?"

Fandral rolled his eyes a moment but began to pace. "That twice-damned blood elf must have been a spy...I know not how the magic users of the Horde could have possibly usurped the power of the Nightmare, but they have figured out how to travel it. The blood elf was likely part of the group controlling it and got himself captured by the green dragons attempting to correct the problem...Loganaar and Pathora were simply in the right place at the right time to receive him as the dragon threw him out. The crystal he brought with him must be the key to how they have managed to control the Nightmare, and how they have been kidnapping our people and warping them into such monstrosities!"

Seeing the blank look on Tyrande's face Fandral angrily explained everything they had learned thus far, and when he finished the high priestess looked worried.

"Why Saliea though?" she asked quietly, tapping a finger against her lower lip in thought.

"Sir!" Tralor suddenly called, interrupting them both.

Both night elves turned to see the draenei kneeling at the base of a tree, several things clutched in his hands, Riptide shuffling around beside him looking pleased with himself.

Tralor stood, raising his chin as he displayed what he held. Three daggers, small with black blades, rested in his palms. "These blades bear the mark of the Darkspear trolls," he said firmly. "And...they're poisoned." Riptide growled, and Tralor absently patted the ravager on the head. "They smell of troll."

Fandral was shaking with rage when he turned back to Tyrande. "Saliea once told me she'd entrusted the truth of her relationship to me to Thrall," the Archdruid said bitterly. "She trusted him, and he's used that trust to betray her and strike directly at me!" He ceased pacing to face her fully. "The blood elf might have even allowed himself to be captured."

"How could they have known he would end up here?" Tyrande asked doubtfully, looking from him back to Tralor and the poisoned weapons he held.

"Perhaps Saliea was not his intended target, but what does it matter?" Fandral snarled, waving a hand impatiently. "Would you not strike if the largest bargaining chip one could possibly have suddenly ended up in your lap? His little gang of trolls could have been anywhere, waiting for word, waiting for his capture, anything to tell them who, when, where to strike! Mark my words, the Horde is to blame for this, those daggers will prove it, and they've taken my...they've taken..."

Tyrande's worried look deepened. "Magni _has_ been stating for weeks that the disappearances were a Horde plot...until now I merely believed him paranoid, but..." She inhaled deeply. "We must speak with the other heads of state on this before making a decision." Now she turned to Elisa. "Please, send word to Bolvar, Magni, Jaina, and Velen." She looked back to Fandral. "If Saliea is truly in the hands of the Horde as a hostage..."

"Then they have the most powerful sway over me that any man could possibly have," Fandral whispered. "Whatever the Horde wants...they now have scores of captives, plus my..."

Elisa murmured a few words and, with a crackle of magical energy, disappeared from view; Tyrande began to firmly order the wardens and the druids to return to Moonglade and secure it for the arrival of the various leaders of the Alliance. Fandral remained standing mutely where he was, staring at the ground between his feet.

If he was correct...Saliea had entrusted Thrall with her most important secret, and in turn, if Thrall had betrayed her trust in others, and had had her captured...

If she was suffering at the hands of the Horde, Fandral would see every member of it exterminated.

The wardens and the druids around him knew when to pretend to be deaf - they might not have heard him, might not have realized exactly what Saliea was to him, but anyone who saw them together could surmise that the Archdruid and the little druidess had something beyond a leader-peon relationship. He was not so stupid as to assume that the secret would remain that way forever, but if he was right then that very knowledge had caused Saliea to become a target...Fandral had no intention at all of letting Saliea become a second Valstann, and any night elf would easily figure that out if only they knew what Saliea _was..._

His gaze fell on the scorched grass, a near-perfect ring in which the dead bodies rested; troll tracks, Darkspear weapons... He had no doubt in his mind that if some other group was trying to place blame on the Horde for the crimes there would have been more evidence pointing to that fact. He fervently hoped that whatever had caused this scorched ring had not harmed Saliea...

But if a single hair on Saliea's head was harmed, Fandral would have Thrall's head on a platter.

* * *

Pathora clutched the crystal in his hand, clenching his fist and feeling it cut into his flesh; he pressed himself deeper into the shadows at the very edge of the area where Staghelm and the others stood.

He'd heard everything, and he grudgingly had to admit the Archdruid's words made sense, his accusations passionate and ringing with a truth supported by the evidence at the scene. Opening his hand he looked at the crystal, wondering; there would be no way to tell if the blood elf had been merely acting or truly affected by the thing - Pathora had been on his back in his bed, certainly, but he had been anything but unconscious. Wearing a blindfold had certain advantages when it came to eavesdropping, and the information he had gathered while appearing to be out cold in bed answered little of his questions but had given him several ideas on where to go next.

His first order of business, of course, was to locate that druid, and the crystal he held would help with that: there was a very deep instinct within him that told him he _needed _that druid and that shaman, and this crystal would assist him in finding them. If the blood elf truly was behind the druid's kidnapping, then using an item so closely linked to his person would allow him to track the blood elf no matter where he ran in the world. Again he clenched his fist and allowed himself to melt back into the shadows, unnoticed by anyone.

One of the things that that talented hunter had missed was the tree he stood directly under; Pathora had immediately seen the weapons, and was merely waiting to see when the draenei would find them and what he would conclude from them. Blackened blades definitely spoke of poison, and while Pathora was curious what _sort _of poison it wasn't something he needed to immediately know. But the tree...

The tree had been altered. In what way he wasn't exactly sure, but it _had _been altered and it stank of a strange magic. He adjusted his blindfold as he looked up into the tree again, a place on a wide branch above them glowing white-hot with magical presence. Unless the druids - the Archdruid himself, maybe - examined the tree they were very likely to miss the magical presence.

Magic of that sort - whatever it was - was not Pathora's strong point, and so he filed it away as something to be looked into later once he'd located Saliea, as fretting over something he had no knowledge on would get him nowhere quickly. Once he was certain he was far enough away to avoid detection, he leapt into the night sky and soared on the wind, traveling rapidly away from Moonglade to find a deserted moonwell to harness its power so he could begin to seek out the missing blood elf.

* * *

It was amazing how simple that had been, to admit to herself that she had feelings for this human.

Cradled in his arms was amazing, he smelled delightfully male and her mind kept playing with images of what lay beneath that black armor of his; Tal'Thera smiled to herself and allowed herself a contented sigh.

He had brought up objections, as she had both feared and expected; she immediately dismissed his sputterings of death and pain - what was life other than these two things? His death would destroy her, but when placed in context with their current situation his death would mean her own, and she would merely find him again in whatever came after death - and this she believed strongly, for surely death was not the ultimate end of everything.

But his worries over their respective problems of race were valid...her people would never allow him to dwell within the walls of their city. That in itself was no problem, she was more than willing to leave Silvermoon if it meant remaining with Mikael...but the same was true for him, as _she _would likely not be allowed to live within the walls of any human capital.

'We'll find our own corner of the world,' she told herself firmly, refusing to believe otherwise.

If no one would accept them in either of their homelands, well then...they would just leave.

'If you can,' one of her inner voices pointed out. 'If you will be permitted such happiness...'

Her heart sank, thinking of that...what if Lor'themar refused to allow her to leave? There was no chance at convincing him to allow Mikael to stay, so what would she do if she became a prisoner of her own people? What would _Mikael _do?

'He'd tear down the city and rescue me,' she answered herself, heart sinking further as her mind conjured images of her beloved falling beneath the might of a battalion of rangers. 'Maybe he was right,' she thought mournfully. 'Maybe this path of life will only lead to sorrow for us both...'

They would need to plan, they would -

The doorknob rattled. They had a split instant to look at one another, then Mikael quickly removed her from his lap and settled her on the bed beside him, then was up and moving for the door even as it opened. Meraka scurried in, hardly giving either of them a glance as once she was inside she immediately began to pace.

"_There has been a change in plan," _she said finally. "_Logane had another dream, we need to get you away from here NOW before they have a chance to strike at you once more."_

_ "So we are not accompanying Thrall to meet Jaina?" _Mikael said, even as Meraka vehemently shook her head.

"_No. You are leaving tonight. Right now, in fact. There are mounts and supplies waiting on you."_

_ "Meraka, wait," _Mikael said, grabbing her by the arm and forcing her to stand still. "_I don't think I'm enough to protect Tal'Thera. Sending us off now without even giving me a chance to plan is suicide."_

Meraka blew out a sigh, ruffling a few wisps of hair that hung down in her face. "_Thrall suspected you might feel that way, and so he has found a volunteer to ride with you, he is waiting with your mounts outside." _She smiled sadly. "_I only wish I was riding with you."_

Mikael swallowed hard, then nodded and turned on his heel, striding to pick up his backpack and then offer a hand to Tal'Thera.

She took it, smiling at him and feeling a little thrill in her stomach when he smiled back; he paused only to scoop up his disguising necklace and then to sling his backpack onto a shoulder, then he took her hand and led her after Meraka as the orc hurried out the door and outside.

Standing outside of Grommash beside two black wolves was a bent figure, and as they grew closer Tal'Thera could tell it was a male troll leaning against the flank of his wolf. As they came close he straightened and saluted them; his face was tattooed a shocking white, his tusks were huge and curved almost to his chest. Beads and feathers decorated his braided hair, which was almost as white as his face, and he wore a robe made of finely stitched animal skins.

"_This is Taiki, a priest who has agreed to ride with you," _Meraka said.

"_I be honored, mon," _Taiki said in response. "_I be happy ta fight by ya side."_

_ "If luck stays with us, there won't be any fighting," _Mikael said grimly. "_We welcome your company."_

Meraka turned to him, clasping her hands behind her back. "_Ride quickly to your...destination," _she said quietly. "_I suggest not taking a direct route there. Thrall has departed to meet with Jaina so I'm the only one to see you off. Be careful, move swiftly, and explain to the druids and the Alliance that this plight affects not only them but the Horde as well."_

Tal'Thera allowed Mikael to lead her to the wolves, patting the head of her mount awkwardly - she hated riding on the things, they were so ungainly to her. She was somewhat relieved to see that Mikael too appeared to have misgivings about riding the canines; Meraka too seemed to notice this.

"_They are well-trained, direct them with your knees instead of reins and you'll be fine," _she said tersely. "_You should get moving. The longer you stay here the easier you can be attacked."_

Mikael nodded, swung Tal'Thera up onto their wolf and then climbed up behind her, she riding a sort of side-saddle style and he actually settled into the saddle trappings. Taiki was already mounted, and on his wolf seemed to be the supplies giving to them by Thrall. Tal'Thera wrapped her arms around Mikael's waist as he nodded to the troll and then their wolf was sprinting in the wake of Taiki's.

Orgrimmar rushed by them and then they were out in the open under the sky; Mikael slid an arm around her to help steady her against the wolf's gait as he grew used to directing the creature with his legs. Taiki kept his mount just in front of and to the right of them, expertly guiding his mount to the point where the male didn't even have to use his hands and so was able to signal to them every so often when he was about to change directions.

Mikael seemed content to let the troll lead them, and it was no mystery why: Taiki would know this land better than they would, and so Mikael would follow the troll's commands and trust his judgment.

Tal'Thera found herself staring up at the sky, admiring the stars; the sky touched the horizon in all directions and for someone who had always stared at the sky through the window formed by nearby buildings, it was breathtaking. She slid a hand into her lap and found Mikael's, and squeezed, smiling when he returned the gentle pressure.

With her warlock here, the fear for her life was not so suffocating. In her warlock's arms, she was safe.

She kept her gaze on the stars as the ground rushed by beneath them.

* * *

To say he was surprised would be an understatement Pathora decided grimly. He was crouched over the moonwell in Auberdine - it was deserted at this late hour, and he had only to duck into a shadow when a Sentinel came near to avoid detection.

He had a tiny bowl full of the arcane magics from the moonwell, and this was what he was using to scry...and he had repeated his scrying twice, the first time having been completely convinced that he had been incorrect due to his findings.

But no, both attempts at scrying had come up with the same conclusion: the blood elf, who had been the carrier of the crystal Pathora was using as a focus in his spellwork, was...still in Moonglade. Not even remotely close to Nighthaven, but still _in _the region known as Moonglade.

He was put off his stride long enough that the thought of having to _go back to Moonglade _annoyed him greatly, but he quickly recovered from such a silly notion as far more important questions pushed their way to the forefront.

Why, with his prize in his hands, would the blood elf remain in Moonglade? To throw off his pursuers? Would you look directly beneath your nose for something believed to have been stolen away? Hiding her in the same place she had been kidnapped from would be ingenious, as Pathora didn't believe Staghelm would waste his time looking for her there since he would believe she was _elsewhere._

Granted, if the blood elf had separated himself from Saliea, then merely knowing where he was would not find her, but it was still better than anything he had to go on at the moment. The altered tree came to mind - that had to be the key, somehow.

He needed to return to Moonglade and take a closer look at that tree before he chased after the blood elf.

Carefully Pathora emptied the moonwell water into a leaded vial he pulled from his belt, and returned the bowl to his backpack; he retrieved his sword from where he'd hidden it in a tangle of vines - the last thing he needed was for moonlight to glint off of his blade and alert a passing Sentinel, and there was a LOT of blade for that to happen - and strapped it to his back before leaping to the sky again and disappearing.

* * *

Thrall was beginning to worry.

He was waiting on a bare hillock in the Barrens, in one of the many meeting places he had for when he needed to speak to Jaina, and the lady mage was far past due for their meeting - several hours late, in fact.

Some irrational part of him was panicked that perhaps she, too, had disappeared like all the others, but that was a ridiculous notion. Jaina would be the last person he would expect to vanish off the face of Azeroth without a trace - no, whatever tried to take her would find her a deadly opponent, caught asleep or not. She surely had some sort of protection cast upon herself even when she slumbered, the danger of being caught unawares by some threat was something not even she could ignore.

So he sat and he waited as the night deepened around him, and he worried.

The sky was beginning to grow lighter when finally she appeared, and he stood to greet her, a smile upon his face.

"Jaina, it is good to see you," he began, but then fell silent as, in the dim light, he saw the utterly distraught look on her face.

"Oh Thrall," she said in a rush then. "I've just come from a meeting with...oh, Thrall. Bolvar and Magni, and Fandral, they're so angry. The Alliance is going to declare open war on the Horde!"


	15. Chapter 15

Taiki kept them moving until midday, then called them to a halt at the base of a rocky outcropping.

"_Da land be full o' da mountains and da hills," _Taiki said wearily as they clambered from the backs of their panting wolves and collapsed in the shade. "_We gotta circle far south before we can be headin' north ta Ashenvale, den tru' da Felwood ta Moonglade. Dey said not ta take too direct a'route, after all. Gonna be a long ride, mon."_

Mikael stretched his legs out in front of him, grimacing as muscles protested - he wasn't used to guiding with his legs instead of a set of reins, and his legs were definitely not liking this new exercise. "_We need to reach Moonglade as soon as possible, so it will be a hard ride as well. Can you handle near-nonstop riding, Tal'Thera?" _he asked, looking at her.

She threw herself down in the dirt beside him, feeling little more than a slight strain in her lower back from having to sit still for so long. "_Do you not intend on sleeping any at all?" _she asked.

"_We'll need ta stop for rest yanno," _Taiki said dryly. "_Ya warlock might be able ta go fer days witout sleep but I can't be doin' that."_

Mikael shook his head. "_I wasn't going to suggest that we go without stopping or resting...we're on a mission to protect, and we won't be able to do that properly if we're not alert, but what I am saying is we ride for as long as possible each night and not stop unless we absolutely have to."_ He looked up at the troll. "_We should only rest during the day with someone keeping an eye on the others. Those...things...can't jump out of the shadows and surprise us, if there's hardly any shadows thanks to broad daylight."_

_ "Good point. Sleep in shifts, stay in da sun. We be seein' dem comin' at us," _Taiki agreed. "_Plus we all be awake an' ready in da night."_

The troll pulled his mount close and pulled off a cloth sack, tossing it to Mikael - it landed in his lap, as the human made no effort to catch it - then reached around to the other side of the mount and fiddled with something out of their sight.

Mikael opened the sack to find a skin of water and fresh bread and fruit, enough for three; obviously Taiki considered it lunch time, and as the warlock handed Tal'Thera the water skin Taiki was suddenly there, shoving a lengthy, cloth-wrapped _something _under his nose.

"_Thrall be sendin' dis, too."_

Mikael traded the bag of food to the troll and took the object, unwrapping it to find a shortsword of the approximate size of Spellcleaver laying bare in his lap. In all the excitement Mikael had actually forgotten that his weapon was still in Silvermoon, he was so used to just having the blade hanging off his hip; he held the blade at arm's length, sighing inwardly - it wasn't Spellcleaver, but it would work for now. He carefully laid it on the ground beside him and accepted his share of bread and fruit from Taiki.

"_Dis be da only fresh we get," _the troll said, shining an apple against his robes. "_Da rest be whatevah we find ourselves an' dose travel biscuits da mages be talented at conjurin' up."_

The bread was honeyed and filling, and they lounged in the shade and stretched out sore legs and backs from riding; the wolves lay panting nearby and Taiki absently patted them.

"_Dere be a pond not too far from here, den you can have a drink okay?"_

The wolves growled goodnaturedly and returned to resting with their heads on their paws.

Mikael stretched out flat on his back, arms stretched above his head; after Tal'Thera had finished her food she laid down and rested her head on his stomach, staring up at the sky. He rested a hand on her shoulder and she rubbed her cheek against it, smiling; the sun was hot and the heat made her drowsy, but the fear of falling asleep was still with her, and far too soon they were up and moving again, racing south and heading deeper into the Barrens, pausing only at a pond to let the wolves drink their fill.

Their ride was thus far uneventful, not even seeing any passing Horde as they ran through the Barrens, still heading south. As the sun set anxiety began to rise, and Taiki slowed their all-out run into a loping pace, letting the wolves run as fast as they were willing to; Mikael's hand tightened unconsciously on the hilt of his borrowed sword, never letting his attention linger too long in one place and instead constantly surveying their surroundings. There wasn't any sign of anything beyond the usual night creatures, and thankfully, while it wasn't full, the moon was bright enough in the clear sky that they were easily avoiding the deep shadows around trees and rocks.

They ran on until it grew light again, and finally Taiki brought them to a stop in an open stretch of grass. As the troll unloaded the wolves and let them flop to the ground, exhausted, Mikael settled Tal'Thera in the grass, letting her stretch out on his traveling cloak.

"_So who be restin' first, mon?" _Taiki asked tiredly.

_"You go ahead," _Mikael said, stretching his hands above his head. "_I'll wake you after a while."_

The priest didn't argue, laying down flat on his stomach, snoring moments later. Mikael stared at him a moment, then rolled his eyes.

"_I'll be lucky to hear anything coming with that racket going on...though for all I know he might scare everything off."_

Tal'Thera chuckled from where she lay curled on her side, looking at him. "_These creatures don't make noise, remember?"_

_ "Good point, so when I _can't _hear him is when I need to worry." _He smiled down at her and patted her shoulder. "_Get some rest, I'll keep you safe."_

She slid a hand up to grasp the one resting on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze; he abruptly cleared his throat and looked elsewhere, slightly blushing and drawing another giggle from the blood elf. He left his hand remaining in hers and cast with his other, his felhound Jhuunom appearing and looking at them both curiously.

"_You know what your job is," _Mikael said simply, as Jhuunom nodded shortly. A moment later the demonic canine was turning and nudging his master, making a whining noise; Mikael quickly reached over and tugged off the bandage Tal'Thera had seen him place on the injured demon not too long ago.

"_Isn't he hurt?"_

_ "I sent him back," _Mikael said. "_The healing process goes much quicker if he's not in our plane, and even quicker still if I help it along some," _he went on, wadding the bandage up one-handed and then setting it on fire in his palm. "_I usually keep my...servants...in whatever limbo they enter when I dismiss them from this plane. Elervina tried explaining it to me once but I don't think I quite grasped it, something about being aware yet not aware, waiting for my call. She vaguely recalls both floating in nothingness while at the same time walking on some blasted wasteland...like she's in two places at once." _He emptied the pile of ash from his hand, all that was left of the soiled linen, then kind of gestured helplessly. "_It makes perfect sense to her, I'm rather lost, and none of the rest of my enslaved demons have the words to describe it. I just make sure they see the light of day every so often."_

_ "You make them sound like they're pets," _she remarked.

Mikael grimaced. "_Yes and no. I definitely don't treat them like slaves, but they're too dangerous to be considered mere pets." _Jhuunom let out a sound that resembled chuckling, and the warlock thumped him on the nose.

_"Then why have them?"_

_ "I needed them," _he said quietly. "_I needed their knowledge, at the time. When I was hunting for my brother, the first lead I had was he had seen a book written in Demonic...I got Jakpit the day I investigated that, wholly by accident. Jakpit taught me to read the evil thing, and in it I learned much, especially how corrupting and seductive the power can be. I took Jhuunom to use as a guardian and a tracking hound, and through him I learned things about dueling other casters. Shaathun, because I thought I might need some sort of body guard and heavy lifting...he helped hone my swordsmanship as well. Graz'nar I took when I needed further guidance in Demonic that Jakpit couldn't give. Elervina...well, she came to me, and I actually ended up enslaving her to keep her from enslaving me."_

She slid over and rested her head in his lap, closing her eyes as she felt fingers sifting through her hair. "_Does it bother you that you have them?"_

_ "A little."_

_ "Then why not release them?"_

He sighed heavily. "_They've proven to be invaluable to me, and I consider them my responsibility now. Besides...if they're bound to me at least I know that's one small group of demons not out causing mayhem." _He untangled his fingers from hers and stopping stroking her hair. "_You should be resting, not talking to me."_

_ "But I want to talk to you," _she protested faintly, but not fighting as he removed her from his lap and arranged her on the cloak again.

He brushed a light kiss across her forehead then scooted several feet away; she sighed, partly in annoyance and partly in longing, but curled up again and closed her eyes. Knowing he was that close and watching her as she slept, the mage really didn't think she'd be getting any rest anyhow; sore muscles combined with the warmth of the sun soon had her sleeping deeply however.

Mikael alternated between watching their surroundings and gazing at the sleeping blood elf. The idea that such a beautiful creature could possibly love him was a strange thought, and inside himself the knowledge that he loved her warred with the thought of how much pain it would cause if - or when, most likely - they were separated. He didn't like thinking so negatively, but with years of solitude and the determination to kill his brother or die in the attempt, with emphasis on 'die,' the need to seek a lover hadn't ever been high on his to-do list. Saliea had been an accident, truth be told. And now, suddenly finding himself with a lover felt like he'd been tossed adrift somewhere without any sense of direction.

And it was so different from what he thought he'd felt about Saliea; this only further proved that what he felt had been lust, and now that he had something to compare it to he...he what? He was still divided in his mind over the entire thing.

Unbidden, the memory of his conversations with Ishanah, at A'dal's "feet" in Shattrath, came to his mind. Despite himself he remembered the draenei with a mix of fondness and sorrow; it was hard NOT to like Ishanah, but in a way Mikael felt like he could hate the woman because of what she convinced Mikael needed to be done. Ishanah had told him exactly what he needed to hear to make the decision to slay his brother, something Mikael had been fighting with himself over since the day he had first left on his quest to find Datavian. Some days he felt certain he could give the killing blow without a second thought, others it was such a horror to think of that he'd put it out of his mind and not think about it for days afterward; Ishanah's words, her gentle way of acting as Mikael's guiding conscience, had led the warlock to believe the only way to end the suffering - of Mikael's, of those Datavian had ever tormented, and even Datavian's most likely - was to slay the man.

Mainly, Ishanah had helped Mikael to make a choice, and a choice was exactly what he needed to make here.

He let his gaze wander back down to Tal'Thera, stretched out on his cloak in the sun, sleeping soundly. He had to make a choice...

Hours later, with Taiki waking up and taking his place watching for danger, Mikael slid in behind Tal'Thera and carefully draped an arm over her. The blood elf stirred slightly, glancing back at him through a haze of sleep-tussled hair over her shoulder, but snuggled back into him with a contented sigh. He took only a moment to pull a few strands of her hair from his lips then laid his head down on an arm and closed his eyes, only half-listening to Jhuunom shuffling closer to them with a loud snort that ruffled his hair. Taiki gave them a curious look, unseen by either of them, but settled on his haunches and threw an arm over one of the wolves resting with them as he began his turn at keeping watch.

* * *

Jaina had teleported them both to Orgrimmar, Thrall already sending summon after summon for Meraka, one of his hands wrapped gently around the white wolf pendant she had given him for the purpose years ago.

Finally, looking like she had just rolled out of bed herself, the orc mage appeared with a crack right in the middle of his throne room, hurriedly settling her robes over her sizable breasts.

"_I heard you, I heard you, I-" _she stopped mid-sentence, stopped moving and stood stock still, as she took in the sight of Jaina standing with Thrall. "_I...see we have a visitor."_

"This is Lady Proudmoore," Thrall said, switching to Common. "There have been a few complications, and I need you to accompany me to a...meeting with the Alliance."

Meraka's eyes widened - and she was trying very hard not to stare at the human mage - and she quickly straightened her robes and took a deep breath. "Very well, I require a moment however," she said. When the Warchief nodded to her, she disappeared with another crack from the room.

Jaina was still staring at the spot where the orc had disappeared. "Intriguing...an orc mage. I didn't know your people had any interest at all in arcane magics."

"She has a history similar to mine," Thrall said simply. "What she knows now began with simple teachings from a human master."

Jaina nodded, then appeared surprised a moment later. "Wait, a human master? She's the little orc servant that...well, the world is definitely smaller than I imagined."

"You've heard of her?"

"Not by name, but there was a mage by the name of Aegis, I don't remember his first name sadly. Aegis had an orc servant and it was rumored he had taken it and raised it as his own child, even estranged himself from his wife over it. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if he taught her something of his art." Again Jaina looked thoughtfully at the empty floor where Meraka had been standing moments before. "If it was odd enough for the Kirin Tor to have a brief mentioning of it in their records-"

"If you are through with speaking of my master - and his name was Alario - then I am ready to depart when you are," Meraka said coolly as she reappeared, this time in the space between Thrall and Jaina, both of them jumping in surprise. This time the orc was in a pair of robes Thrall had only seen once before, and that had been when she'd returned after fighting Drasai in Nagrand; her battle robes, green and blue cloth covered in brown leather straps, always gave the generally mild-mannered orc a fierce look. The orc had appeared in the few feet of space Thrall himself and Jaina, close enough that the hem of those robes actually brushed Thrall's ankles.

Thrall gave her an exasperated look. "If you land in my lap one of these days doing that..."

"I merely did it to save time," Meraka said, gesturing at Jaina, the human mage already casting to take all three of them from Orgrimmar.

They reappeared somewhere Meraka had never been before, a moon-lit place that truthfully looked like it had never seen full sunlight ever in its life. Guards immediately surrounded them - not in a menacing manner, more like as an escort - and began to lead them toward a town in the murky distance. They walked without speaking, having no fear of being attacked as Jaina was still with them and would never let that happen. To their surprise - the orcs, not Jaina's - they were lead around the outskirts of the town and taken south, down an empty road and then finally off the road onto a path leading between the trees.

They came out between archways, in a shrine of some sort, and there standing before them were the Alliance leaders - Bolvar, Magni, Tyrande standing near Fandral, and even elderly Velen - standing with a creature that was half stag, half night elf by all appearances.

Thrall definitely did not miss the look of utter hatred given him by the druid Staghelm, nor did he miss the subtle shifting of the others as though they meant to restrain the male.

The figure in the middle, the night elf and stag mix, straightened to his full considerable height and regarded the two orcs evenly, without malice. "And so they have come. I am Remulos, son of Cenarius."

Meraka purposely stepped between her Warchief and the cluster of Alliance leaders, eying each of them in turn. "Why are we here?"

Remulos bowed to her. "You have been brought here to answer to accusations of kidnapping," the demigod went on, glancing briefly to where Staghelm stood just behind him. "And also to answer for the disappearances that have been occurring lately among the races of the Alliance."

Thrall took Meraka's hand and gently moved her aside, then stepped forward and faced them all. "I know not what you speak of when you mention kidnapping-"

"He lies," Fandral snapped, and Thrall felt a slight surge of uneasiness as Bolvar and Magni both shifted their feet.

"-but I can tell you, I am behind neither," Thrall went on, still eying the three males. "There have been just as many disappearances among my own people as there have been among yours."

"Lying abomination," Fandral snarled again, and this time he really did take a step toward Thrall. "Why did we expect to hear anything else out of this beast?"

"Peace, Lord Staghelm," Remulos said quietly, holding out a hand to halt the Archdruid's forward progress. "Let him speak."

Thrall slowly shook his head after a moment of silence, looking first to Meraka and then to Jaina, who still stood with them; the human mage's presence, standing nearby, made this entire meeting seem not so lop-sided. Finally, he looked up at them all. "A meeting such as this has never been heard, let us not waste it bickering. There must be understanding between us. I swear to you, upon my honor, that my Horde is not behind your disappearances, for we have suffered the same occurrences."

He wasn't surprised at all when Meraka produced a thin roll of parchment from her sleeve and handed it to him; the Warchief unrolled it to show the neat list of the persons currently reported as missing. This he handed to Jaina, and the mage briefly looked over it, frowning deeply. Then, again without him being surprised, Thrall watched as Meraka produced another parchment, this one the list Mikael had acquired for them that listed the Alliance disappearances.

"An agent of mine secured the list of the current known disappearances among your people," Thrall said evenly. "And I willingly give you the list of our disappearances. Nearly the same number have gone from each side."

Bolvar gestured and, with a hint of annoyance, took the list from Jaina's outstretched hand and looked it over, holding it low enough that both Magni and Velen, the two standing nearest him, could see it.

"How can we trust that this is not some poor attempt at placating?" the human asked, looking from the parchment to Thrall then to those standing around him.

Thrall sighed heavily and shrugged his shoulders. "If you are so suspicious of me and my actions, then there is no way I can possibly convince you. You will either believe it is true or it is not. It is my sincerest hope you will believe me, for the fate of our collective people may depend on our cooperation with one another." Slowly he let his gaze wander from each of those standing before him, seeing so many emotions present. Hate, fear, loathing, but there was also skepticism and wariness, and possibly...hope?

"Tell me what you meant by kidnapping," the orc said quietly. "Who is missing, and why am I accused of being behind it?"

Very, very slowly, Staghelm's hands clenched into fists, but Tyrande put a hand on his arm in warning; angrily he snatched his arm away, but before he could speak Tyrande stepped in front of him.

"Saliea Silvermist, her husband Sevei, and her student, a young boy named Darae."

"And your pet blood elf," Staghelm added bitterly.

"The whole lot o' them went missin' after being chased out of Nighthaven by a bunch of monsters," Magni said coolly. "The last trace o' them left shows a gang o' trolls jumped 'em."

Thrall sighed heavily. "I am saddened to hear she is gone, but if she is still anything at all like she was when I met her then whatever kidnapped her is likely missing a few pieces. I once again tell you I was not behind such an attack, and just because it was a group of trolls who did the deed does not mean I ordered it."

"It does lay responsibility on your shoulders to discover the truth, however," Velen said quietly, the first he'd spoken since Thrall had arrived. "And if it indeed was someone allied with you..."

"Then I will make sure they suffer for their crime, and I will do everything in my power to see that Saliea and her family are returned unharmed," Thrall replied, nodding slowly. He glanced at Jaina briefly, then inhaled. "Lady Proudmoore has told me that you intend to declare war on the Horde. Is this true?"

Bolvar spoke up this time. "The crime of kidnapping cannot be ignored, orc, plus there are the other disappearances that have occurred and you have not provided evidence to suggest you were not, in fact, behind those either. We have been discussing our course of action since we gathered here, and yes, our first intention was to declare war and drive you and your people back through the portal into Outland where you first crawled out of." The human looked over at Velen and Tyrande, rolling his eyes. "They thought otherwise, and believed you should have a chance to speak for yourself and your people."

"Bloodshed may not be necessary," Velen said, crossing his arms so that his hands disappeared into the sleeves of his robes. "I will not allow a war that I can prevent...I have seen too much destruction in my considerable lifetime not to act where I feel I can prevent the deaths of many for the misunderstanding of a few."

"Let one thing be perfectly understood," Fandral cut in suddenly, and the anger in his voice was sharp enough that Thrall was surprised it hadn't sliced him open. "If so much as a single hair on Saliea's head is harmed, I will kill you. I will wipe you off the face of Azeroth. I won't even leave your body for the flies." Tyrande gave him a look of warning, but he made no movement except to purposely turn his back on everyone assembled.

After a moment, the Warchief cleared his throat. "I hope to be understood as well. I do not wish for war, nor do I believe that is in anyone's best interests. If we cannot have some sort of working peace between us, understand that I will not sit idly by and watch as those under my command disappear by the score. It will not be an act of war except against those directly behind such mysterious circumstances. Also understand this: I will personally take care of any members of my Horde that are found to be behind anything even remotely related to this problem. And I ask of the Alliance to work together with the Horde before there isn't enough left of us to do so." He straightened and snapped a salute. "Only through a truce will we stop this, I believe this strongly."

"You've given us no reason to trust you," Bolvar snorted. "The only reason we meet beneath the eyes of Remulos was to keep us from attacking one another."

"He has made no move to harm any of us, I find myself inclined to believe him," Tyrande replied.

"Of course you do," Fandral snarled beside her. "Get out of your temple once in a while, _High Priestess, _and take a look at the real world with real problems, and maybe you'd recognize lying when you see it."

Tyrande sent him a sour look. "I am certain I would feel if he were lying, _Lord _Staghelm. It feels correct to believe him...this, at least, was not ordered by him even if it was orchestrated by members of his Horde."

"We cannot expect him to be aware of every movement of every member of the Horde," Velen added, uncrossing his arms. "Nor can he expect us to do the same," he went on, raising an eyebrow at Thrall, who dipped his head in agreement.

"Then where does this leave us?" Magni asked, shaking his head. "I'm sorry if I disappoint ye all, but I'm not o' the opinion that peace is possible between us."

"It isn't," Bolvar said bluntly. "And I highly doubt it will be anytime soon."

"An agreement must be made, at least one of non-hostility much like we tentatively have now," Thrall said, feeling a slight flutter of hope rise in him. War would not occur, he was at least sure of _that _now.

With Remulos looking on attentively, they all fell silent within their own thoughts; about the only thought consistent with all of them was the urge to avoid war, even though all had differing reasons for avoiding it. It couldn't be denied that _some _there would like nothing more than war but...

"Excuse me, lord...master...Remulos," Meraka said, gesturing a moment, honestly at a lost as to what honorific to use, but not stopping to dwell on it. "Are you adverse to the use of fire within your...shrine?"

Remulos looked down at her, mildly confused. "I'd prefer you didn't, but why do you ask?"

"Ice it is then." Meraka rolled a sleeve back and moved like she was punching out at the gathered Alliance. To Bolvar's credit the human didn't move as the bolt of concentrated frost roared just passed his head, striking something within the trees behind the gathering.

A slain snake creature toppled from the trees and hit the ground with a thud, rapidly decomposing down into what looked like a male blood elf in sodden robes.

Meraka stood still, fist outstretched still from her spellcasting, a grim look on her face. "I believe that should be proof enough that we are not behind this."

Bolvar had an enraged look on his face as he combed ice crystals from his hair and wiped the moisture from his face where the ice had already melted, but he too turned to regard the slain beast; Tyrande even took a tentative step toward it.

"How did you know that was there?" Jaina asked, seeming more curious than alarmed.

Meraka shrugged. "I had little time to prepare to hunt down...someone...who we believe is at least partly behind these damned beasts." As quickly as possible, with Thrall occasionally adding in a detail here and there but otherwise content to let her speak, Meraka outlined everything, including Jin'Loki and Mikael's desperate flight to keep Tal'Thera out of the hands of whatever it was that hunted her.

"This Mikael Sullivan, he is a human warlock?" Tyrande asked, Meraka nodding in confirmation.

Fandral finally turned back around. "I know of him, he is a friend of...Saliea's. I am disgusted to learn he has defected to the Horde," the male said bitterly.

"He has not defected," Meraka said firmly. "He is as loyal to your Alliance as ever and I feel you know this, you are merely looking to lash out at anything that moves."

"You _dare _to-!" Staghelm started, but a gesture from Velen silenced him.

"But _how _did you know that was there?" Jaina asked again, shaking her head. "I sensed nothing."

"Nor did I," Remulos commented.

"It was part of the preparations I had just started when I had to accompany the Warchief here," Meraka explained. "One thing that occurred to me when I was deciding where to begin was these things were said to project a sort of magical silence around them, so-"

"So you had a spell not looking for them specifically, which would not have worked. You were looking for a void zone," Jaina finished, nodding thoughtfully. "An excellent idea."

Meraka looked slightly embarrassed at the praise, but gave her head a shake and inhaled deeply. "I had cast the spell while I was still in Orgrimmar, I was not expecting it to linger as long as it did, but it detected that thing in the tree. We're being watched - damn it all to hell!" she suddenly exclaimed.

Thrall sighed heavily. "When you swear it's hardly a good thing."

"If they're watching us, they were likely watching Mikael," she groaned. "I've got to get to them!"

Thrall's eyes widened. "Go. Now. Immediately."

The orc mage nodded, then looked torn. "Will you...should I...?"

"I'll be fine, get to them," Thrall insisted. "If I know you, you have a way to do that anyhow."

Meraka nodded and began to go into a spellcasting, but Jaina stepped forward.

"Take me with you, this involves both Horde and Alliance."

Meraka didn't argue, merely gestured for the human mage to step forward and began her casting again; a moment later the two females disappeared, and Thrall immediately turned to the rest of the leaders gathered there.

"I'm going to suggest we're all safest among our own people, and that we take this time to prepare ourselves for an attack."

"You have proven nothing, orc," Bolvar said coolly. "If the druid is not returned-"

Thrall held up his hand. "Spare me your threats, I will do what I can, and I will not stand idly by and allow my people to be slaughtered either. If it ever comes to war between us you will find the Horde has returned to its former deadliness, but remember this when I say we would rather be left alone to live our lives and rear our children in peace."

The woman mage Elisa stepped out from among the trees and began the work necessary to return the leaders to their respective towns; within minutes only Thrall, and the night elven leaders Tyrande and Fandral, remained in Remulos' presence. Thrall maintained an outward appearance of calm, but inwardly he was worried; Meraka and Jaina both - ironically, his only means of transportation back to Orgrimmar - had rushed off to lend any aid they could to Mikael, and if the warlock was seriously in trouble at this very moment even the two powerful mages might not be enough to help him.

What could anyone want with Tal'Thera? The blood elf herself had said that she could do nothing that couldn't replicated by any other mage...it would only take longer. Again, there had to be some sort of time frame the would-be kidnappers were working within, that was the only explanation that made any possible sense given the information they had.

Slowly, Thrall bent down and knelt, reaching out for the comforting presence of the elemental spirits. They were abundant in this place of peaceful natural balance and when they felt the orc reaching to them they reached back and welcomed him warmly.

'I humbly ask for guidance,' Thrall thought, directing his thought at no particular element in particular.

'So did the other one, on a great many things. We helped him, as we shall help you now,' came the reply.

'The other one? The draenei?' Thrall asked.

'Yes. He requested our guidance, and our protection for his family. That we gave, and we also offered our protection to the one who holds the possible key to the mystery.'

'I am afraid I do not understand,' he said after a moment of silence. 'Who holds the key to what? What is the key?'

'The blood elf that arrived from beyond, he held within him what we believe will help you find your missing people.'

'What was it? Where is it?'

'A crystal, and it was previously held in the control of the night elves.'

'..previously?' Thrall sighed heavily.

'Yes. It has since been removed.'

'Was it taken by the same ones who kidnapped the little druid and her family?'

'No, it was taken by one who will be needed if this is to be sorted out.'

Thrall decided he wasn't going to get anything more out of the spirits speaking with him - they could be frustratingly vague, but he had long since learned that it was their way of teaching, for if you couldn't figure things out on your own you had no business speaking to them. Instead, he mulled a moment, then shook his head. 'How can I avoid war?'

'Go home, do not provoke. Offer your mage's service in finding the troll you seek. If you are so concerned with finding a lasting peace for all, then someone must be the one to take the first step. The leaders of the Alliance are honorable and will not seek a war that is not wanted.'

'But they do want war.'

'Do they?' the spirits repeated. 'The Alliance forces are stretched as thin as yours, and the people are weary of fighting multiple fronts against the Legion in Outland and the various threats that still remain here in their own world. There may be war between the Horde and Alliance, but it will not be now, not when it would cost so much for all involved.'

'What do I do?'

'Let things run their course for now. When it is time for you to act, you will know. Return to your home.'

With that the presence didn't exactly recede, but he could tell it was done talking to him. Thrall opened his eyes - he wasn't sure when he had shut them during that exchange - and looked up to find he was alone in the shrine, not even Remulos in sight. He dropped into a cross-legged position in the grass and prepared himself for a long wait.

* * *

Tyrande watched silently as everyone quickly left - to do what, _against _what, no one could really tell. Carefully she turned to Fandral and rested a hand on his arm, to guide him back toward Nighthaven, and to her great surprise he didn't resist at all.

"_Fandral..." _she started, glancing briefly at where Thrall knelt in the grass. "_The warrior, Fandral...the warrior that was with you, where is he?"_

_ "Nighthaven," _Staghelm replied quietly. "_He lies unconscious in a bed."_

_ "Why did no one tell me that?" _Tyrande sighed. "_I should go to him, maybe I can do something-"_

_ "I very much doubt you can do anything," _he interrupted. "_Whatever happened to him happened while he was in the Emerald Dream, something that is beyond even your Elune."_

Inwardly she sighed heavily, but forced her face to retain its impassive look. Again she glanced back at Thrall as the two of them began to walk down the path to return to Nighthaven. "_You have not killed him, I am surprised. Are you well?" _she asked, trying to goad the Archdruid into a snippish response and receiving nothing more than an idle grunt. "_...I believe this is a side of you I have never seen before," _the High Priestess said after several minutes of walking in silence.

"_A side of me?"_

_ "Caring. Worried. Fearful. An actual parent."_

The look he gave her could have frozen blood in the veins. "_You know _nothing _of what is it like, so don't dare to claim you 'understand' me or my motivations. And stop touching me," _he snarled, ripping his arm from her grasp. "_I require no sympathy, least of all from _you."

_ "You are willing to begin a war over Saliea," _Tyrande pressed on, a bit relieved that the anger-driven part of him she'd always known was beginning to surface once more. Anger she could deal with, but a sullen, silent Fandral was an entirely new creature she had no idea how to handle. "_I can understand the need for a parent to protect a child-"_

_ "I tried protecting a child once before," _Fandral snapped at her. "_I will not let it happen again."_

_ "Then start your war." _

There, the challenge out in the open. Tyrande stopped walking even as he did, and once again Fandral was shaking in rage; she braced herself for the verbal tirade she knew was coming...and was left speechless herself as the Archdruid merely spun on his heel and stalked on further down the path.

"_You confuse me, Fandral," _she called after him, refusing to quicken her pace to catch up to him.

"_You will address me by my proper title, High Priestess," _came the reply, the male not slowing.

"_Fine then, _Archdruid Staghelm, _you confuse me," _Tyrande growled, feeling her composure beginning to slip. 'Elune, lend me patience,' she silently prayed, finally drawing even with the druid and then stepping in front of him, forcing him to stop lest he plow into her. "_Only hours ago you were calling for Thrall's head, and then when you had the chance to plead your case for a war against the Horde you remain silent. Why?"_

He stared down at her, anger evident in his features; his jaw opened and closed, and finally he shoved passed her and once more headed down the path toward Nighthaven. "_For some reason I cannot fathom, Saliea likes several members of the Horde. She trusted Thrall," _he said quietly, almost enough so that Tyrande nearly didn't hear him. "_For her sake..."_

_ "And if it is the Horde who did kidnap her?" _

Fandral slowed, stopped, and turned around, and Tyrande saw the most defeated, deflated look on the male, something very unlike him.

"_If it was the Horde, then I am making a mistake that could cost Saliea her life," _he said quietly. "_I made the mistake of trusting once before...I cannot trust that damned orc, but I can trust her. I only hope I'm not wrong again." _He turned and began to walk again, and Tyrande followed silently in his wake, now utterly confused of this new creature calling itself Fandral Staghelm.

Perhaps it was better she hadn't known this side of his existed...it was a much harder opponent to deal with.

* * *

Mikael woke and Tal'Thera was still sleeping against him, so he carefully slid away from her before rolling up into a sitting position.

"_Any sign of trouble?"_

_ "Not yet, mon," _Taiki answered from where he and the wolves sat nearby. He gestured at the wolves and shrugged. "_Got dis one lookin' dat way, dat one dat way, and I be lookin' in every direction. Nuttin' but what ya would be expectin' ta find in da Barrens...tell ya da truth, da lack o' trouble be worryin' me more, mon."_

_ "You and me both," _Mikael sighed. No sign of the creatures was a good thing, but he couldn't help but have this nagging feeling in the back of his mind that they were being hunted, tracked...watched. "_Sense anything, Jhuunom?"_

The demon barked a negative, and Mikael looked down at Tal'Thera, still sleeping peacefully. "_I suppose we should get moving before the trouble we can't find finds us instead."_

_ "Yeah, prolly," _Taiki chuckled. "_Oh, 'ey mon. Any idea what dis be?"_

The troll dug briefly through one of the bags at his feet and pulled out what looked like a glass shard, and Mikael grinned when he saw it.

"_T'was in da bags, got some feathers in 'ere too."_

_ "It's a few tricks from Meraka," _Mikael said, carefully leaning over the sleeping blood elf and letting Taiki tip the shard into his palm. "_I'll hang on to this, the feathers can stay where they're at."_

_ "I cut me fingers on dat ting," _Taiki grumbled, holding up his hand to show a faint scar in the first joint of his thumb on the left hand.

"_I've done it too, don't worry," _Mikael laughed, carefully tucking the shard into his belt where he'd stuck the first bit of glass previously. If that one hadn't broken before he'd remembered he had it back in Silvermoon, then this one should be safe there too until he needed it.

Taiki began to tie their things back onto the backs of the wolves as Mikael bent over Tal'Thera and gently shook her shoulder. She opened her eyes, blinked sleepily up at him, then stretched and yawned; the mage let out a little squeal of surprise when he grinned and simply scooped her up, cloak and all, and stood.

"_I take it we're leaving?" _she laughed as he swung her up onto the back of the wolf they rode together.

"_You two a mated couple?" _Taiki asked suddenly.

Both blood elf and human blushed. "_Uh, no," _Mikael said, clearing his throat. He busied himself with tucking his cloak securely around Tal'Thera, ignoring it as the priest laughed uproariously.

"_Betcha' will be soon though, mon!" _

"_I'm certain that's no business of yours," _Mikael replied tersely as he swung up behind Tal'Thera...then immediately jumped back down to the ground as Jhuunom let out a shrill bark.

"_What's he want?"_

_ "He detected a faint magic in the distance, something that wasn't there before...like it appeared out of thin air," _Mikael said grimly, drawing his borrowed sword.

"_Den we don't go dat way."_

_ "It's heading OUR way," _the warlock snapped, readying a list of spells in his mind for combat.

"_Run?"_

_ "We won't outrun these, especially not when it gets dark I bet."_

Taiki hopped down from his wolf and drew a small dagger, slashing at the ties on the saddle; all their supplies fell to the ground and the wolf shook itself, howling. "_Den we fight."_

Mikael pulled Tal'Thera from their wolf and untied his backpack from the canine, feeling the tenseness in the muscle beneath the fur. Meraka had said the wolves were well-trained - he could only hope that she was right.

He felt Tal'Thera clutching at his back - how was he going to defend her without her being in his way?

Jhuunom was facing west, crouched down with the quills on his back erect and his hook-tipped tentacles still - if he were an actual dog Mikael could see him with his hackles raised and growling, but Jhuunom was NOT a dog, he had to remind himself - and pointedly Mikael looked the opposite direction. Danger was coming, and he knew without a doubt that there was something at their backs as well as coming from the front.

Every hair on the back of his neck was raised when Jhuunom struck.

* * *

It had taken him hours - about the same length of time it took for all the Alliance leaders to be assembled, and for their meeting with Thrall to take place, even though he didn't know it was occurring - for Pathora to finally figure out what exactly had happened to that tree. It was ancient magic, voodoo magic of the trolls, but this possessed a hint of nature magic which was what allowed him to unravel what had happened.

The trolls that had simply arrived here came through a tree like one would walk through a doorway, and had left the same way most likely, if the magical imprint here could be trusted - and Pathora himself would admit he was definitely no expert on voodoo magic borne of ancient troll gods, but the magic had the tiniest hint of nature woven into it, and this weave was as readable as a book.

It had been a long, long time since he'd attempted anything at all like what he was about to do...but he needed to find that druid. One eye should do it...

He lifted one side of his blindfold, enough to let one eye, his right eye, show. It was actually a very odd sensation for him, opening an eye after so many countless centuries of keeping them closed, but he slowly cracked an eyelid and revealed the acid-yellow, slit-pupiled orb beneath it, then focused his eye on the altered section.

His vision was fuzzy, so he blinked a few times...and then blinked some more when he spied something in the tree that shouldn't be there, assuming he was seeing things. But no...the body within the tree was still there, even after he rubbed his eye a few times with his finger. Had a troll become trapped in his own doorway, crushed to death within the wood? Pathora knew he needed to ask.

He reached for his knapsack, balanced on the branch behind him, and tugged out a box that to all appearances looked to be nothing more than a tinderbox made of cedar, but when he opened it a silk cloth of the purest green coloration was nestled inside. He carefully slipped a finger within the silk and flipped back a fold, and resting in the cloth were three acorns, each glowing a soft red.

Pathora sighed as he looked down at them - when he had first received this box as a gift from an ally, there had been over a score of the acorns in it...now he possessed only three, and was about to use another of the precious seeds. It was almost enough to make him put the box back and save them, but for what? He'd had the box and the seeds for a very, very long time...actually having any left was a miracle in itself, and what _else _would he save them for anyway?

Sighing to himself, he took one and put the rest away, then held the acorn pinched between two fingers and once again focused his eye on the tree.

"Reveal yourself," he ordered clearly, eye flaring a bright gold.

The acorn in his grasp flared red then flew from his fingers and bored through the wood, coming to rest at the troll's heart; there, it flared once more and the body within the tree moved, bending forward and tugging itself out of the tree until it sat on the branch in front of the night elf. The corpse clenched and unclenched fists, wiggled his toes, patted himself down, then hung one leg over each side of the branch and studied Pathora curiously.

"Whatchoo' want, mon?"

"A few questions answered, that is all," Pathora replied.

"Am I alive?"

"No. Quite dead. I merely reanimated you for a brief period of time."

The troll nodded. "I see. Ask yer questions, night elf."

"Who are you?"

"I be Bentar, mon."

"And your tribe? Are you part of the Horde?

The troll flinched, looked away from him. "Promise ya not hurt 'em?"

"I mean no one any harm. Unless they're behind the disappearances, then I mean them a lot of harm."

"I be...son of da leader of da Truthseekers tribe. Well, was da son, guess I can't be dat anymore. And part o' da Horde? Nah, not really. I mean, we dere to help 'em if they need it, but we jus' as quickly be dere ta help dat Alliance if dey call on us."

Truthseekers? He'd never heard of that tribe before...nor had he ever, ever heard of a tribe of trolls willing to spring to the aid of the Alliance. "Who are the Truthseekers?"

The troll shrugged. "Dey me tribe, like I said."

Experimentally Pathora slid his blindfold back down over his eye, and the specter of Bentar disappeared; he raised it again and the troll came back into sight. Irritably he rubbed at his eye - it was drying out - but oh well, he'd expected as much anyhow. "Yes, but WHO are the Truthseekers?"

"A tribe o' trolls dat been separate from da rest dating back ta' da Great Sunderin' methinks. We owe allegiance ta no one but da One of da Order. If She order help da Horde, we be members o' da Horde. She order it Alliance, we be Alliance."

Pathora merely blinked at him mutely. A tribe of trolls, separate from the rest of their fellows for THAT long? Had trolls even been AROUND that long? And willing to help the Alliance...

"Ya mon, we get dat look a lot. We follow da True One's path, not many hear her call."

'Focus,' Pathora told himself firmly, squashing the confusion over the religious bunk the troll was spouting. "Tell me something else then. The ambush here. Where is the druid? Why did you take her and the others?"

"Ta keep HER from gettin' dem," Bentar said bitterly, spitting - or at least appearing to, spirits couldn't actually spit - over the side of the branch. "Bitch be da one dat killed me. Poison on dem daggers o' hers, nasty stuff, nuttin at all like wat we use."

"Her? Her who?"

"Bitch's name be Jin'Loki. She was once a follower o' da True One," Bentar growled. "Makes me tusks twinge just thinkin' o' her betrayal to da path."

"Why would she want them?"

Bentar leaned forward, eyes glittering. "Da son o' dat druid going to be powerful, mon. He goin' ta be sometin' special when he grow up. She wants control o' dat power fer herself."

"Son? The druid has no...wait. She is carrying a child within her. Wonderful," Pathora sighed heavily. "Do you know why she wants to control this?"

"Not at all, mon. Sorry. We barely learned dat da druid and her hubby was in danger in time ta help dem. We try killin' Jin'Loki, but da bitch ran away. Wish I could have kicked her smug face in before she did dat, mon."

"Where did you take them?"

"Dey's wit' me da by now. We was instructed ta grab 'em and run, keep 'em out o' her reach."

"Where is your father?"

"In our ancestral lands. I can send ya, mon, but...can ol' Bentar ask a favor first?"

Pathora snorted at 'ol Bentar,' for the troll looked barely out of childhood, but he nodded.

"I send ya, but ya have ta put me back in da tree first. I like trees."

"Agreed," Pathora said with a shrug. Putting the body back in the tree would be no problem at all, and it was actually something he'd intended to do anyway, so he really wasn't giving up anything in trade.

Bentar stood easily and turned around, pressing his palms to the trunk and setting his feet like he was about to give the tree a shove.

"Okay mon, ya put me in da tree now," Bentar said a moment later, turning back around.

Pathora simply looked at him suspiciously, but the troll nodded emphatically. "Put me back in, mon. I promise ya, ya goin' ta da druid. A deal be a deal."

"Indeed." Pathora gestured and the seed tore itself free from the troll's chest, and the corpse tipped backward and seemed to sink into the wood of the tree as though it was falling into a simple pool of water. Pathora stood - not quite as gracefully as the troll, but then the troll didn't have an enormous blade hanging off his back either - and picked up his backpack before striding to the trunk and eying it doubtfully.

"If I was just swindled by a dead troll..." he sighed. He tugged his blindfold back down, made sure it was snug over his closed eye, then reached out to run a hand lightly over the tree trunk.

The tree itself seemed to spring to life, the bark rippling beneath his hand even as it seized him; he grunted in alarm and went to pull himself free as the wood warped outward, rapidly moving up his arm and across his chest.

"Damnit!" he snapped, struggling as the wood encased his upper body and raced down his legs, meeting up with the wood that was crawling up his boots and calves, and what was worse was he was being pulled into the tree even as he was ensnared.

Struggling and swearing as the trunk swallowed him, Pathora disappeared and the bark smoothed itself out in his wake, leaving no trace of anything at all.


	16. Chapter 16

Perhaps he had dozed off while sitting there - it was hard to tell, in this place of constant twilight - but Thrall was startled to full awareness by the return of the two mages, something sizable hefted between them.

"Are they-?"

Meraka, face grim and smudged with black crud, helped Jaina gently lower their burden to the ground; it was wrapped in a torn cloak Thrall recognized, and Jaina unwrapped it just enough to show Taiki's face.

"They're gone," she said softly.

Thrall ground his teeth together, then stood up and faced them. "Show me."

Meraka gathered up Taiki's remains as Jaina teleported them away from Moonglade and they reappeared in the Barrens; it was dark now, but both mages conjured floating balls of soft blue light that illuminated the tall grass and cast everything into stark contrast.

A large area of grass was flattened, soaked and broken. In the midst was the remains of the two wolves Thrall had given them to ride, and scattered around them were the remains of the people the snake-beast creatures had once been. The orc Warchief strode forward, trying his best to remain indifferent to the body parts strewn across the ground - Mikael and the others had definitely put up a fight.

Among the remnants of the slain creatures something silvery glinted in the grass, and Thrall bent down and seized it, lifting up the remains of a sword hilt. Several inches of the blade remained attached to the hilt but it was twisted around like ribbon and jagged on the end like it'd been shattered, and had a coating of blood that still shown wetly.

Meraka and Jaina had retrieved Taiki, but there was no sign of Tal'Thera or Mikael.

"Where did they get taken?" he asked softly.

* * *

She lay face-down in soft grass in the shade, and her head was pounding. The battle lust, the beast, was still quite active in her mind and it took Saliea a moment to come to her senses and force the beast out. When she finally felt like herself again - minus the massive headache, of course - she raised herself up on her elbows and looked around.

Wherever she was, she was laying in a tent, hence her first thought that she was laying in the shade. Lifting herself up pulled something in her hip though, and twisting around revealed a bandage wrapped around her waist and mostly down both legs. Actually...there were bandages wrapped around her body here and there - knee, shoulders, one around her stomach, and when she licked her lips she tasted blood and could feel where her bottom lip was swelling.

Where was Sevei? Darae?

Quickly, ignoring the sore muscles and the pulling bandages, she pushed herself to her feet and stood, hunched over, in the low tent.

The tent appeared to be made of animal hide - which animal she couldn't tell from the inside - and was big enough for her to stretch out in the center and not touch either side in any direction, but almost felt too small for more than one person unless the person in question was a mate. The only source of light came from in front of her, from a gap where the tent flaps had been loosely tied together with leather thongs. Beneath her feet was grass of a very dark green, too dark it seemed...

She reached out and ripped the tent flap open, and was met with a sight that rocked her back on her heels.

Her tent was one of hundreds she could see stretching out in front of her, and appeared to be perched on the top of a tall hill allowing her to look down into a valley-like area, and this valley area was full of trolls. Lots of trolls. All of them moving about their business, laughing and talking in their easygoing manner...like any town one would come across. In between tents were poles topped with lanterns, all emitting a soft blue glow - magic of some sort - but it hardly seemed to light up the area, it was so _dark-_

'A troll town. I'm in a troll town,' she thought faintly...and then she looked up.

It was so dark, because she was in a _cave._

High, high above her, stalactites hung just within sight, eerily lit by the blue glow of the lanterns below. Very small pinpoints of light at the extreme edges of her vision gave her the illusion of further lanterns possibly mounted in the rock walls themselves.

'Where the hell am I?'

"'ey elfie. Ya hungry?"

She jumped and spun around to see a female troll crouching just outside the tent she'd exited; the female's hair was sky blue and worn back in braids that hung over her shoulders, and she wore a simple tunic of dyed animal hide. She smiled up at Saliea and held out a basket filled with fruits - and Saliea noticed the female was missing her left eye.

"Ya been out awhile. Feelin' all right? Might have a headache from da tranq dey hit ya wit. Eatin' usually helps."

"Where am I?" Saliea finally stammered. "Where is my husband and my student?"

"Ya husband be wit da chieftain," the female replied, standing up with a groan and setting the basket on the ground. "Ya student be wit dem. Ya pet elf, howevah, be back dis way."

"Where are we?" Sal asked again, more firmly.

"Ya be in – well, sort of - Moonglade, in da Cradle of Da One," the female answered. "Ya got nuttin ta fear from us, druidess. Dere be a lot ya need ta know, but ya'll get told in time."

"I want to see Sevei," she said quietly. "I want to know he's all right."

The female stretched, then stepped around Saliea and gestured at their feet, pointing at a hard-packed trail beneath them. "Dis path 'ere, ya follow it down da hill, it take ya into da main square o' town. Ya take it up da hill, ya find ya husband in da burrow, along wit' ya student. For now, however, I take ya ta see ya elf friend. Mebbe ya be calmin' him down, mon?"

"What's wrong with Pit?"

"Is dat his name?"

"A nickname. Why does he need calming?"

The troll gestured and started first down the hill, pausing only to turn and wait for Saliea to follow, then turned onto what seemed to be a terrace built into the side of the hill. "He took a good hit ta da noggin' and threaten ta set a few o' us on fire. He don' seem ta be seeing us, mebbe dat hit addle his brain or sumtin. He be tied up fer his safety an' ours."

Saliea looked back up the path, up the hill where, somewhere, Sevei and Darae were with a troll chieftain...she didn't want to do anything other than find them again.

"I can see ya be tinkin' druid," the troll said quietly. "Dey be all right, but da blood elf, he be needin' ya more den dem."

Sighing heavily, because she knew the female was right, Sal turned and once again followed her. They passed several tents, some considerably bigger than the tiny thing Saliea had awakened in, but finally the female stopped at one of them and reached out to open the flap. Before she could, however, a male troll, heavily armed and with his head shaved bald, stuck his head out the flap and glared at them a moment.

"Oh, it be you."

"He still trowin' a fit?"

"He be quiet now, but he still not be talkin' much ta anyone."

The guard disappeared back into the tent and the female troll pushed in after him; Saliea hesitated a moment, then slipped in behind her. Immediately they were plunged into a very dim light; the tent they were now in was much bigger than the one Saliea had found herself in, and the only sources of light was the flap behind her and two small oil lanterns sitting on low wooden tables in the middle of the roughly square interior of the tent. The guard standing with them had a massive waraxe strapped across his back, and a bandolier of small daggers slung around his hips; he nodded to her, then jerked his head ahead of them.

Pit was laying on his side in the back of the tent, and Saliea pushed passed her guide and the guard and circled around the tables. She could see the ropes binding his arms to his sides, his hands flat against himself; his legs weren't tied, but he had them tucked in close to himself, and appeared to be whispering to himself.

"He been making noises every so often, but he not movin' his hands so I don' tink he be spellcastin. A good ting too, Kol got burned pretty bad while restrainin' 'im."

"Pit?" Saliea said quietly, leaning down next to him. The blood elf had his eyes squeezed shut and was still muttering nonstop under his breath, and even in the dim light she could see he had a discoloration on his face - where he'd taken a blow to the head, no doubt.

The guard started and reached for her when the druid reached out a hand to the blood elf. "Uh, ya shouldn't be doin' dat, mon. Dat was how Kol got burned."

Sal pulled her hand back, debating. "Pit?" Still no response from the blood elf, and so she made her decision and carefully placed a hand on his shoulder.

She got a result then; Pit flinched away from her and she in turn yanked her hand away from him and sucked on her singed fingers.

"_Don't. I won't listen. Do whatever you want, you hear me? I'm not listening to you, and I never will."_

_ "Pit. Ki'tryn," _Saliea tried again, this time switching to Orcish. "_It's me, Saliea. Please don't burn me again."_

He opened his eyes a crack, then squeezed them shut again. "_Another trick, nice try. I don't know what you did but-"_

Saliea seized his shoulders and hauled him upright, knotting her fingers into the fabric of his robes; he reeled back from her and snarled, and Saliea could feel intense heat radiating from him through the cloth.

"_Pit," _she said sharply, shaking him. "_Open your damned eyes and look at me! Don't think I won't pry them open."_

"_Just leave me alone," _he groaned. "_Why won't you just leave me alone?"_

Saliea looked helplessly up at the two trolls who both simply shrugged at her; turning back to the blood elf she could only shake her head. She released him and he slumped against the tent behind him, letting his chin droop to his chest and going back to his muttering.

Inhaling deeply Saliea sat back on her heels, thinking. "...release him," she said finally.

The two trolls looked at one another a moment, then shook their heads in unison and Saliea sighed heavily again.

"Look, he burnt me even while tied up. Let's give him a chance to snap out of it, WITHOUT the ropes on."

"Druid, we be charged wit' keepin' our people safe," the guard snorted. "If he hurt anyone, we be in trouble."

Saliea gestured at the confines of the tent. "I don't see anyone else around besides us."

"Well, I not be too keen on lettin' him hurt me, mon."

"He won't, I'm certain of it."

The guard looked to the female troll, and after a moment she simply shrugged and nodded; grumbling to himself, the male pulled a dagger from his bandolier and flipped it over, handing it to her hilt-first. She thanked him, then gently sawed through the ropes tying Pit; he shied away from her as soon as she let him go, now covering his head with his freed hands.

"_Pit?"_

_ "It can't be you, this is another trick."_

_ "It's me, Saliea. I promise you that. Are you okay?"_

_ "No. My head hurts, and I can't see. And they're talking to me again. This is a trick, right? Just another trick."_

_ "I'm going to look at the bruise on your face, Pit," _she said quietly, gesturing at the trolls behind her. The female must have been expecting such a request, because she was already pressing the handle of one of the lanterns into the druid's hand. The lantern was thin and the flame encased in a glass cylinder, with what felt like a tin shutter that was jointed so it could be slid up and down the cylinder to control the amount of light emitted. Saliea fiddled with the shutters until she felt she had the most light streaming from the lantern, then leaned close to the blood elf's face, gently touching fingers to the bruise.

There was a knot there, beneath the discolored flesh, and Pit winced when she carefully pressed on it.

"_That hurts...and hey, I can see a light."_

_ "Sorry," _she said, setting the lantern down on the ground beside them. "_I wanted to make sure it was just a bruise."_

_ "How could you tell just by pressing on it?"_

_ "Well," _Saliea chuckled, "_if you had passed out, that likely would have meant you had a crack in the skull."_

The look he gave her was decidedly sour. "_Gee, thank you for your concern."_

She chuckled again and then picked the lantern up once more, holding it up to his face. "_Pit...are your eyes dimmer then they should be?"_

"_Uh...I don't know? I can't exactly see them myself, and I don't tend to look in mirrors a lot."_

_ "Do you have vision problems?"_

_ "Eh heh...yes," _the blood elf said quietly. "_I have a peculiar hobby, you could say. It involves a lot of long hours staring at tiny mechanisms, and...looking at lots of bright lights." _The grin he gave her was rather sheepish. "_It uh, it helps keep my mind on things other than the...voices in my head. But it's useful, really! I built a pair of goggles that help me see! They're just...um, back in my bag in the Barrens, but my demonic magic helps me see - somewhat - as well. I can usually pretend I can see well enough without them, but both of them together and I can see rather well...okay, now my head hurts," _he sighed, rubbing gently at the skin around the bruise.

Sal laughed again and reached out to touch her fingers to his forehead; they glowed green briefly, the bruise disappearing and the knot with it, and then she was leaning back again to sit on her heels. "_Better?"_

_ "Much. Thank you," _Pit replied, poking a finger into his forehead. "_Where are we then?"_

Sal stood. "_I'm not quite sure. Looks like a giant cave."_

"_A...what?"_

She looked back at the two trolls, both of whom were standing silently, watching them. "_I'm sure we'll be told eventually."_

The female shook herself, then turned to the guard. "_Well, he seem okay now. I be takin' dem to da chieftain."_

_ "Ya sure dat be wise?" _the male asked in turn, eying Pit. "_If he set da chief on fire-"_

_ "I won't set anyone on fire if no one hits me in the head again," _Pit grumbled, glowering up at them all.

"_He won't harm anyone," _Saliea insisted. "_I want to know what's going on, so take us to whoever this chieftain is."_

_ "Ya be followin' me den," _the female said, turning to leave.

The guard sighed heavily, then bowed and moved out of their way, gesturing for them to follow her. Saliea stood, waited for Pit to stand up, then they both headed after their guide. The female was waiting for them several yards down the path she'd brought Saliea by, then when they'd caught up she began to lead them away and up the main path; they passed the tent Saliea had awakened in and then headed higher up the hill.

The tents - and trolls - began to become more scarce the higher they climbed, and Saliea found herself looking back repeatedly as they walked. This cavern was _immense_...

She looked up ahead of them again and focused on climbing, as the dirt path beneath their feet became less of a path and more like a set of hard-packed stairs; thousands of troll feet, for who knew how many years, had undoubtedly carved the steps into the original dirt path. Shaking her head, Saliea merely kept climbing...all of this was getting stranger by the moment, and all she wanted right now was to see Sevei, and Darae, and to make sure they were both okay.

The top of the hill that she could see in the dim glow from the torches seemed to be getting closer, but something was strange about it.

Part of her was amused that she could consider what she was seeing 'strange' compared to the knowledge that she was in some immense cavern who knew where, but the hilltop seemed to be...growing trees. Tree tops. She could swear that, the closer they came to the top, the more she could make out the forms of tree tops...but that was ridiculous.

But, then again, the idea of a cavern _this big _was also ridiculous.

Suddenly, the top of the hill was there, and Saliea and Pit stood on top of a massive plateau covered in..._fruit trees._

_ "Are you uh. Are you certain we're not dead?" _Pit asked, stepping up to the nearest tree and leaning in close to peer at it. "_Are these apples?"_

_ "What is this place?" _Saliea asked faintly, reaching up to gently touch one of the hanging fruits.

Their guide smiled at them. "_Dis be da Cradle, da Womb, of Da One. Come, da chieftain awaits."_

* * *

Darae sat quietly at the side of his shan'do's husband, trying very hard not to stare at those who also shared the room they were in.

Six male trolls sat in a straight line a few feet away from them, and all of them were a fiercesome sight. They were all bald, with giant tusks jutting from their lips that curved down their chins and out several inches from their faces; elaborate tattoos, jagged patterns in black and blood red, traced every inch of their visible skin, and as they wore only the barest of loincloths Darae had to believe that the skin that wasn't visible bore the markings as well. The tattoos themselves looked like broken glass, or sometimes bolts of lightning, and seemed to spiral out from a point on their chests, a place located just beneath where the heart would lay.

Aside from the loincloths, the only other thing the trolls wore were weaponry. Leather straps crisscrossed their chests, laden with daggers and thin needles, hatchets, swords. Two of them even had knives strapped to their thighs and calves, but even still all six were essentially walking armories.

When Darae had asked where they were, he'd been told they were in a burrow, in the chieftain's residence; the room certainly had a burrow-like feeling to it. The walls were plain dirt covered in hides and furs, and painted wooden shields and tikis hung between wooden beams shoring up the walls. There was a chimney carved into the ceiling, with a small fire burning in a bronze grate beneath it with the blue smoke curling up and disappearing into it, with an iron pike stuck into the wall above it with a kettle hanging down into the flames.

Beneath them were mats made of linen, intricately patterned and brightly colored, and also very comfortable; Sevei's head was pillowed on one such mat that was rolled up, and he lay on one that seemed to be patterned after a wildly colored sunset. The entire floor was covered in mats, actually, except for a small area on their left. On their right was a doorway, covered with a curtain of carved wooden beads, the 'door' Darae had been bodily hauled through - he'd been dragged in here after waking up in a dark place, Sevei had already been laid out when he'd gotten here - but on their left...

A section of the floor, perhaps a four foot square framing yet another curtained doorway, was still bare dirt, and packed hard enough that it looked like stone. There wasn't a beaded curtain here, however; this was a very thick curtain made up of finely stitched furs of varying kinds - spots, stripes, blotches, solid colors, all fine pelts. It hung from the ceiling and pooled slightly in the floor, and Darae couldn't see anything beyond it at all.

He let his gaze fall back to Sevei and he bit his lip; the draenei hadn't so much as twitched since Darae had been dropped next to him. Was he dead? Well, no...he could see the draenei was still breathing, so Sevei was still alive. Why wasn't he waking up though?

'I wish I knew where shan'do was,' Darae moaned silently. 'I hope she's okay...if they hurt her, I'll...I'll figure out how to change my form, like shan'do, and I'll eat their faces!'

"Dere shall be no face eatin' here, boy," called a voice...from beyond the fur curtain.

The six trolls all jumped to their feet and slammed a closed fist into their right palms in unison with a sharp "ha!" and then stood at attention, startling Darae who scrambled to his knees and faced the curtain as it rippled. Slim fingers reached from behind it and slowly drew the curtain back, revealing what Darae believed had to be the oldest troll in the world.

He was bent over, shuffling slowly into the room - it seemed amazing he could even walk under his own power - walking along the line of the six troll warriors. A full mane of pure white hair poured out from under a headdress made from the skull of some gigantic bird of prey, colorful beads and feathers braided into it, and it fell to his waist and over his shoulders. A robe of brilliant sky blue silk wrapped his incredibly slim figure, and as he moved Darae could glimpse what looked like golden thread in the flickering light from the fire.

The ancient troll walked the length of the line of warriors, then spun abruptly on his heel.

"Ya be dismissed. I talk wit' dem now."

Again, the warriors slammed their fists into their palms and shouted, then all darted at the walls and simply disappeared.

No...not at the walls, at the wooden beams in the walls, like they were walking through a door.

Suddenly then Darae realized he was alone in the room with his shan'do's unconscious husband and the ancient troll. He sank back into a sitting position and stared uneasily as the troll paced over and sat just on the other side of Sevei, eying the night elf boy in turn.

"Ya be...Darae."

Darae swallowed hard. "How'd you know my name?"

"Da spirits talk about ya, boy. Dey know ya can hear dem."

"I hear...what?" Darae whispered, leaning away from him.

The troll smiled - in the firelight it looked sinister, all that wrinkled flesh stretching - and chuckled. "Ya wonder what ya was hearin' back in da moocow's home? Ya was hearin' da spirits, boy."

Darae was shaking his head before the troll had even finished speaking. "That's not...that can't be true. I can't hear spirits. I can barely hear nature whispering to me. I don't have the training to be a druid, but I will be someday, and I definitely aren't a shaman."

The troll laughed again and rested his hands on his knees, cocking his head sideways as he resumed staring at Darae; the night elf squirmed under his gaze, looking everywhere but at the troll.

"What are you going to do with us?" he asked finally. "Where is my shan'do?"

"Da druid be seein' to her friend, and as ta wat I plan on doin' wit ya, I'll be explainin' dat when all be gathered together."

"Why won't Sevei wake up?" Darae blurted then. "What did you do to him?"

Now the troll leaned back, raising his head, and Darae was struck with the terrible sense of having offended some impossibly powerful being, then the troll leaned forward and the feeling faded, leaving Darae gasping for breath.

"Ya heard da briefest whisperin' of da wind, boy. Wat da shaman heard was the cry of da entire spirit world. Defeanin'. Stunnin'. Powerful. I had ta get ya away from _her _and to do so I had ta incapacitate da shaman first."

"Then why isn't he awake yet?"

"Because I don' want him awake," the troll said in a tone that implied he thought the answer should have been obvious.

"...who are you?" Darae asked quietly. "Why did you kidnap us?"

Again there was that frightening smile, but the look in the troll's eyes was gentle. "My name be Jakani, and I had ta kidnap ya ta save ya life."

* * *

He wasn't dead. She had seen him fall, but he wasn't dead. Because she could hear him.

Wherever she was, it was dark and cold, slightly wet. There was a rough stone floor beneath her, the wall she leaned on was covered in thick clumps of slimy moss, but she needed the support to hold her upright as the screams echoed.

She tore at her hair and wrapped her arms around her head, wishing that the screams would stop, but fearing such a thought for at least this way she knew he still lived...when those screams ceased she would fear the worst, and that was the most horrible thought she could fathom.

Where they were, she didn't know. She wasn't even sure where he was in relation to her - that troll had thrown her in here and dragged him off, bleeding and unconscious, somewhere she couldn't see, even if she pressed her face to the bars lining the tiny window in this prison's only door. His _screams _though...

'Please. Please, please live my love...stay alive,' she sobbed silently into the moss.

* * *

Jin'Loki paced back and forth in front of him, grinning widely. The smell of his blood was thick in the air, and she eagerly looked forward to smelling his fear as well, once he awoke.

This was her favorite room of her compound, her special room. Already the human was prepared for her, his hands chained together and dangling by his wrists from the ceiling, the tips of his boots just barely touching the floor. She'd stripped his armor off, leaving him bare to the waist, all the better for examining him and for the play to come.

She circled around behind him, trailing her fingers over the rapidly spreading bruise that was his left shoulder - Jin'Loki had especially loved dislocating that arm, and hadn't bothered snapping it back into place before stringing him up. Her fingers moved from the bruise to brush over the curious glowing marks marching down the length of his spine, then she clawed at them and slammed the heel of a palm just beneath the shoulder.

"I hate you," she growled, as the human swung gently on the chain from the force of her blow. "I hate your markings, I hate your race. I hate that I must use you for something so important. I HATE you."

She spun around, letting her gaze roam around the room. They were on one of many raised platforms dotting the spherical cavern - different _toys _of hers were on the platforms, arranged according to what sort of pain they inflicted. Only the one they stood on now was devoid of any sort of device; this was a simple circular platform with the chain hanging from the ceiling, with grooves carved into the stone to funnel blood away.

They would begin here and then move on to the other platforms as Jin'Loki 'educated' him and taught him to properly respect her.

Momentarily she thought of the blood elf female she'd tossed into one of the holding cells; by now the living nightmare she'd pulled from the female's mind would have worn her down considerably, and the troll couldn't help but laugh at the fact that the elf had feared was exactly what Jin'Loki was planning to make occur.

She spun around to look at the human again; oh yes, she would have him screaming, make no mistake about that.

Once again she approached him, looking him up and down. He'd put up a fight - futile, but ultimately admirable, she had to grudgingly admit - and she smiled as she admired her handiwork. Cuts, bruises, tears, gashes, and judging from the coloring across his chest her minions likely cracked a rib or two. Jin'Loki had personally dislocated his shoulder with a well-aimed blast of magic that had even traveled down the limb and utterly shattered the weapon he'd held. She reached up a finger and traced the tip of it into a wide gash just below his right eye that trailed down his cheek; half-formed scabs crackled under her finger, and she pulled the digit away sticky with both fresh and partially congealed blood.

"Mmm," she sighed, sucking the blood off. "You're powerful, and that is the only reason you're of any use to me. ...well, perhaps not the _only _reason." Now she seized his face and dragged her tongue across the same gash she'd broken open, laughing as she pulled away. "Hurry and wake up, human, I want to play!"

* * *

'I failed, I failed...'

The thought was with him as he swam back to awareness, and stayed with him as the waves of pain began to assault him. His shoulder burned, his hands were above his head and numb, he couldn't even move his fingers; where was he?

Thankfully neither eye was swollen shut, and he was able to open them and look around blearily; the agony in his mind made it hard to concentrate, but he was thinking straight enough to recognize who stood in front of him.

"You..."

Jin'Loki smiled widely at him. "Aka'Magosh, Mikael," she chuckled. "How are you feeling?"

"Where is...Tal'Thera?" Mikael grunted, struggling to raise his chin from his chest. "If you hurt..."

The troll waved a hand dismissively. "Compared to you, she's fine. You got the stuffing beat out of you, and the fun's only just beginning."

Mikael blinked several times as the world went out of focus for a moment, then when he finally forced everything clear again, Jin'Loki was running a whip between her hands.

"What do you want?" he asked, following her with his eyes as far as he could as she stalked around behind him.

"That is none of your business," the troll replied. "Tell me, human. Do you remember kicking me out of that tree?"

Mikael heard the tip of the whip drop to the floor, giving him bare seconds to prepare for the blow; it cut across his lower back, licking around his bare hip to snap at his stomach. It was like someone had pressed a burning metal strip to his skin; he gasped, feeling himself swing gently, and actually had a moment to brace himself against the second one, hearing the drag of the whip against the floor as she drew it back for another strike.

"You broke my ankle," the troll snarled, whipping him for several minutes straight.

Mikael was gasping when she finished, and she herself was panting slightly from it all; his back was covered in thin cuts from the whip, all of them bleeding profusely. Jin'Loki stood and closed her eyes, listening to the human's gasps of pain. She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her mouth close to his ear.

"You broke my ankle, you hurt me. Before I actually move on to what I require of you, I shall see to it that you pay for that," she whispered, licking a smear of congealed blood off his shoulder.

Mikael squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth as she stepped back and raised that whip again.

* * *

Jakani acted as though he was waiting on something, continuously glancing at the door and purposely ignoring anything Darae asked him. Finally the night elf boy just sat and glared at him silently, his hands resting lightly on Sevei's arm. Maybe he could wake up Sevei himself, and they could get out of here and find shan'do and -

Abruptly the ancient troll fixed his gaze on him, startling him.

"Ya know ya got a totem spirit followin' ya around, dat be why ya can hear tings."

"...what?" Darae sputtered, straightening and trying to will his pulse back to normal.

Jakani nodded. "Totem spirit. Means a spirit has taken a special interest in ya." He pointed to his headdress, rubbing a finger over the beak hanging over his forehead. "Mine be da eagle. She been wit' me since birth, it be a very special honor ta have one decide ta guide ya."

Darae once again found himself shaking his head. "I'm sorry, but you're crazy."

Jakani laughed for several minutes, almost falling over backwards. "Ya be honest, boy. I like dat. I can feel da presence of a spirit around ya, Darae. When ya be ready, it'll show itself."

At that, Darae rolled his eyes and groaned. "Why are all adults telling me 'when you're ready' or 'you'll know what to do at the right time' or my favorite, 'you can choose your own path in life'? I'm just a kid, I don't know anything and all of this is stupid and confusing."

The troll didn't reply immediately, instead turning to look at the door again, tapping a finger against his chin thoughtfully. Mere seconds later he looked down at Sevei, then over him at Darae.

"Life is confusin' Darae. All we can do is take wat we know, wat we be told, and do da best we can. I know ya got a good guide in ya...shan'do, issit? And da demigod Remulos, he give ya some advice too."

"He gave me a feather I ended up shoving up someone's nose," Darae grunted.

Again Jakani fell into such a fit of laughing that he actually did this time fall over sideways. "Ah, boy ya make me laugh any harder ya gonna kill me!" After laying on his side a moment, chuckling and wheezing and holding his sides, the old troll sat back up and tucked his legs under him, smoothing out his robes.

"We be adults, mon. We like ta say tings like dat ta make ya tink," Jakani said softly. "Figurin' out one's path ain't easy, and ya got quite da choice in front o' ya boy." He entwined his fingers and held them out toward Darae. "Ya was born hearin' da spirits, and ya need ta decide how far ya gonna follow da path."

"So you want me to be a shaman?" Darae asked, leaning forward.

Jakani shook his head. "If ya was meant ta be a shaman, ya'd be one."

"...so because I'm not a shaman, I never will be?" Darae asked slowly. "Like I wasn't confused before."

The troll chuckled. "Lemme rephrase. If da spirits wanted ya ta be a shaman, events woulda happened dat woulda led ta ya trainin' under one. Ya gone dis long witout da trainin' so I tink ya fate be sometin' else."

"Then why'd you ask how far I planned on following the path of shamanism, if I wasn't meant for it?"

"Ya was meant ta have sometin da do wit it, boy, or ya wouldn't have a totem spirit followin' ya around."

Darae dropped his face into his hands and growled audibly. "Ugh, then what am I supposed to do?" He looked up at Jakani through his fingers. "I just want to know what to do...I wish I could talk to my father," he said sullenly. "I miss my parents so much..."

Jakani nodded slowly, then leaned back and stretched his arms above his head. "Knowledge be gained from da ancestors. Listen to da ancestors, dey will guide where dey see fit."

"My parents aren't my ancestors," Darae sighed. "Ancestors are really old."

"When we die, we join our ancestors in death," Jakani said, waggling a finger at him. "Dere knowledge is our knowledge. Ya parents are part o' dat great guidin' force o' da ancestors. Listen, and dey will answer ya if ya call ta dem when ya be in need."

"But-"

The troll held up a slim finger, and Darae fell silent. "No more questions for now. Part o' da process o' learnin' is findin' out for yaself. It be how we grow. So learn on ya own, ask for guidance when ya stumped, and grow." He waggled the finger at the boy when the night elf opened his mouth. "Eh, eh. No more questions. We 'bout ta have company anyhow."

* * *

Their guide led them through the orchard, past so many trees Saliea once again disbelieved the fact that they were in a cavern and instead began to harbor the thought that they were in a forest, but there in the center of the orchard was a tree that was so wide Saliea believed her home in Darnassus would fit comfortably inside the trunk, but what had to be the oddest thing about it was the branches that stretched away into the darkness above were all barren, skeletal.

The troll female stood and waited, her arms crossed and a smile on her face, as Sal and Pit both gawked.

"_I'm beginning to think I died and I'm just in some bizarre buffer world between living and the realm of the dead," _Pit said quietly.

"_That can't be it, that explanation is too simple," _Saliea responded, shaking her head dazedly.

After a moment their guide gestured for them to follow again and they did, heading up to the giant dead tree, heading for what looked like a jagged crack in the trunk; the closer they got the easier they could see it _was _a huge crack, and it seemed to lead inside the tree itself. Finally they were standing in front of it, a huge gash in the wood that was at least twelve feet high and four feet wide at its widest point, and...well, the tree was definitely move massive than they had originally perceived.

"Da chieftain be inside," the female said quietly. "Ya be comin' wit me."

She led them through the crack and into the near-darkness of the tree; Saliea looked up to see that the entire tree was hollow, but it looked as though it had been hollowed by hand - she could see the marks in the wood where it had been chiseled away at and then smoothed. She shook her head and looked down at the plain wooden floor, following along as they moved to the center of the trunk and stepped down onto a spiral staircase carved into the heartwood of the tree, leading down into the dark.

"Oh, hang on a moment," the troll said, cracking every knuckle in both hands before wiggling her fingers. "Been awhile since I take anyone not o' da clan down 'ere. We don' need da light." Finally, between her fingers, a tiny globe of fire sprang into existence, then floated out in front of the female and led the way down the stairs.

Saliea tapped her foot on the steps, which were all worn smooth. "_This is all carved from the tree..."_

_ "Ya," _the troll said. "_It be one big tree. Da chieftain explain it all, don' worry."_

_ "I'm not worried, I'm confused beyond imagination," _Pit added in, clinging to the wall. "_I can't see a damn thing."_

Saliea reached out and took his elbow and began to guide him down the stairs; they climbed down for what seemed like forever, then finally they reached the bottom and stood in a narrow hallway, at the end of which stood a single door.

"_Da chieftain," _was all their guide said, walking to the door and shoving aside a beaded curtain, gesturing for them all to enter.

Saliea went in first, and immediately dropped Pit's elbow as she rushed in and dove into the floor, her eyes on only one thing: "Sevei!"

Darae had shifted out of her way but now attached himself to her arm. "Shan'do, you're okay!"

Their guide sidestepped around Pit - who was carefully shuffling his feet and squinting at the floor as he moved forward - and came into the room, sliding into the floor and resting her head in the lap of an ancient troll wearing blue robes and a headdress.

Saliea glared up at him. _"If you've hurt my husband I'll-"_

The troll stroked the female's hair with one hand and held up his other, Saliea falling silent as her jaws snapped together from whatever spell the troll had cast. "Holdup dere, druid. I be expectin' one more."

Saliea growled at him through her closed lips, making as though to stand up but pausing as Darae clung to her.

"Wait, shan'do, this is Jakani, he's the chieftain here. Sevei's just asleep, he - ...one more? Who else is there?" Darae interrupted himself, blinking at the old troll as he dragged his teacher back into the floor.

Jakani turned his head slowly, and pointedly stared at a wooden beam on the wall beside the door. Darae turned to look too, looking confused; Pit finally found himself a seat on the floor just behind Saliea, staying just within reach, and involved himself with staring at the floor, blinking repeatedly. The troll that had brought them down here still lay in the old troll's lap, her eyes closed and her hair being smoothed out by Jakani's hand.

Suddenly, the beam seemed to swell and then pulsate, like a swarm of bees had been riled up inside it, then it gave a shriek of twisting wood and something was expelled outward, landing heavily in the floor a yard from the rest of them.

"Dere he be," Jakani said lightly, as the night elf warrior Pathora began picking himself up off the floor groggily. "Now, sit down and we can talk. I got a lot ta tell ya."

* * *

Jin'Loki snapped her fingers and the chains released him, dropping the human into a bloody heap on the platform. He was barely conscious, but didn't have the strength to roll himself off his shredded back and so could only lay there on the cold stone and dirt with her standing over him triumphantly.

She hadn't wanted to stop, but to use him she needed him alive; if she did anything that would push him too far toward death, he would be useless to her.

"We'll pick up where we left off next time, human," she chuckled, reaching into a pocket and pulling out what looked like two thin leather straps connected in two places with iron rings.

Silently she straddled him and slipped the straps over his head, one circling under his chin and up over the top of his head and the other running across his forehead to the back of his head, which placed the iron rings over his temples. She reached into her pocket again and pulled out a blood red gem about the size of her thumbnail, and touched it to the strap across his forehead; instantly the straps shrank to fit Mikael's head snugly.

Now she waved the gem in front of his face. "Try to cast any sort of magic, and the straps here will gather the resulting energies and channel it back into your mind." She tapped the rings with a finger. "It's very disorienting and painful, and repeated attempts will destroy your mind to the point where you are little more than a mindless thrall. I suggest ya don't try it." She paused a moment, then jabbed her fist into his throat and grinned nastily as he coughed and choked, struggling to breath. "I _really _suggest you don't try it."

Standing, Jin'Loki seized the manacles on his wrists and turned, dragging him along behind her easily off the platform and across her special room to the very fall wall - purposely taking the longest path possible to get to her destination, to both prolong his suffering in her presence and to allow him a good look at the rest of her toys. Once she reached the door and had dragged him from her torture chamber, she glanced around the little hallway she stood in. Three other hallways branched off from here - one led to the prison cells, where a certain blood elf mage was currently spending time; one led to the armory and the barracks, both essentially empty as only a fraction of her followers were stationed here; the final hallway was the one she intended to take, and it led to the key to everything.

"Come on, wanna see something incredible?" she chuckled. "This shall be your new home until I'm done with you."

This stone hallway was obviously very well cared for, the stone beneath them shined to a brilliant sheen and well-lit with several heatless torches lining the walls on either side. They traveled through it and out into a wide room, in the middle of which stood what looked like an old well.

Jin'Loki hauled Mikael up beside her, balancing him on his feet and seizing his chin to turn his head toward the well. "See that? Your destiny lies within it. I personally hope you die in there."

She slung him back to the ground and grabbed his wrists again, dragging him back toward the door they had entered through, rapping her knuckles against the stone wall. There was a rumbling noise somewhere far off, and then the rough outlines of a door appeared in the stone and the rock within the outline melted away into nothingness, revealing a tiny room beyond.

In that room squatted a female troll, filthy and looking haggard, and she glared outright as Jin'Loki sauntered in.

"Patch him up, I want him ready when I return," she said coolly, throwing Mikael into a heap at the female's feet.

The female stared silently as Jin'Loki left, the door reappearing behind her, leaving her alone with the badly injured male. Now she turned her attention to Mikael, reaching out to gently rest her fingers on his cheek. A moment later, a gentle green glow filled the tiny cell.

She hadn't the faintest idea if she could help the human, but she would try.


	17. Chapter 17

At first she had intended only to exert the smallest effort possible, more so to spare the human from more time at Jin'Loki's hands, but moments after gently rolling him off his shredded back she knew she had to do everything in her power to help.

The markings on his back were beautiful, and surprisingly they bore none of the whip marks like the rest of his back. They glowed softly in the darkened cell, and she couldn't help but continuously touch her fingers to them as she worked to clean and then heal the many gashes, all the time feeling a touch of pity for the poor man because she knew that once he was healed Jin'Loki would immediately subject him to more of her tortures.

For now he was sleeping, his head in her lap - he had been mostly unconscious the entire time she was working on him, only waking briefly when she had popped his shoulder back into place. Slowly she rotated her shoulders and rolled her neck, feeling the pull of muscles cramping from her having spent so much time bent over him. She stroked his hair back from his face, smoothed it underneath the leather straps he wore around his head, and rested hands on his shoulders.

"Da spirits told me a marked man would be my key to freedom," she said into the silence, smiling. "I did not know what dey meant until now. Rest, for ya troubles just be beginnin' but I know ya'll save me, because ya been sent ta do it."

She adjusted her legs and leaned back on her feet so her back rested against the wall, then carefully shifted the human so he rested in her arms much like how she'd held her infant son decades ago, and glanced up at where she knew the door to her cell to be; Jin'Loki could come any moment and take him away, and so she hoped the human would be rested and awake before that happened so she could speak with him. He was the man the spirits had told her to wait for, she was certain of it.

* * *

_A shriek of terror cut through the night as they were swarmed by the creatures, and the air was heavy with the magic he used to defend them all, working the sword back and forth to fend off the ones who somehow managed to avoid his magical barrage._

_ But it wasn't going to be enough._

_ The spells he had in mind were devastating, but draining. Maybe just one would be enough to drive them back and give them some breathing room without wiping out his strength. They could hear, these things were somehow different from those that had attacked before, these didn't project a magical silence around them, but he couldn't spare the time to wonder why these creatures were different._

_ He parried, slashed, then tossed the sword into his opposite hand mere seconds before white-hot, blinding agony ripped through the limb. He felt and heard a wet popping noise even as black lightning raced down his shoulder and arm, down his fingers and into his weapon which shattered and peppered his face and chest with shards of metal. Suddenly the world tipped, came up to meet him, and it took his pain-dazed mind several moments to realize he'd fallen, and by then it was too late to do anything about it as the creatures leapt together for him, and he fell under pounding fists and snapping teeth -_

"-Tal'Thera!"

He came up, hands clawing at the air, a difficult task being as they were manacled together; hands touched his shoulders and he defensively ducked away and rolled, coming up on his knees and turning to -

The female troll had her hands up, palms facing him, and was gazing at him evenly. She wasn't afraid of him, and Mikael felt a sudden wave of nausea come over him accompanied by such a sharp pain in his head that he fell over onto his side, gasping and writhing. After a moment he felt gentle hands on him, rolling him onto his back.

The troll carefully touched her fingers to the straps encircling his head. "Don't even so much as tink about magic with this on. Ya could kill yaself."

Mikael swallowed hard, focusing on breathing and suppressing the urge to vomit. "W-where is Tal'Thera? Is she alive?" he asked once he was able to speak again.

The troll tilted her head to the side, studying him. "When Jin'Loki brought ya to me, it was only you." She reached out and grabbed his shoulders, helped him sit up. "What is your name, human?"

"Mikael. Mikael S-Sullivan." He studied his hands - thick bands of smooth metal, unmarked and no sign of locks or even seams, encircled his wrists and were stuck together with his palms facing one another. Experimentally he pulled at them and it wasn't a surprise when they didn't so much as budge - magical then, like the thing on his head. "Where am I?"

She smiled at him. "That's the question, ain't it? Ya be in a cavern, and dat's all I can tell ya."

Blearily he stared at the ground as he let his fingers explore the straps around his head; these too were smooth, with only the metal rings at his temples and no sign of any stitching to show how all of it was held together. His mind felt hazy and his head ached behind his eyes - Jin'Loki had not been joking when she said any attempt to cast a spell would cause him pain, but that was hardly a worry to him at the moment. Right now, all he wanted to do was find Tal'Thera, then find a way out of this.

"If Jin'Loki took prisoners, where would they be kept?" he asked, awkwardly pushing himself to his feet.

The troll shifted herself to sit cross-legged in the floor, watching him. "Depends. If she be important, she'll be kept away from here, nearer to da barracks. If she be just captives like us, she be in a cell somewhere near. If she not important at all, she be dead."

Mikael glared at her. "She's not dead, she's NOT, you hear me?" He stumbled over to a wall, resting his shoulder against it. "How do I get out of here?"

"And whatcha plan ta do? Rescue her?" the troll said blandly. "Sit, and listen to me a moment. Ya won't be going nowhere without my help."

"What do you know?" he snapped back, slowly sliding down the stone wall. "I have to help her, get her away from here."

"And I want ta help ya do that," the troll said evenly. She crawled toward him on hands and knees, reaching to take his hands in hers. "I healed you, after Jin'Loki tortured ya. She's going to come back for you again, she thrives on fear and pain, blood and agony."

Mikael looked up sharply. "Will she torture Tal'Thera?"

She smiled sadly at him. "I don't know. It depends on what Jin'Loki wants out of her."

Slowly his hands clenched into fists. "So long as I'm alive, Jin'Loki can't touch her."

"There is little ya can do from in here," the troll sighed. "I want to help ya. My name be Catwissa. I am a priestess of The One."

"Of who?"

She smiled again. "The One. She is sometimes called Order. She is my goddess, the goddess of the Path. I can't tell ya much, because you weren't born to da Path, and so I can't tell ya of the mysteries. Just know that the spirits told me of your arrival, and I am here to help you. We will escape together."

"I need to know how to get out of here," Mikael said after several moments of silence.

"Ya won't be going anywhere with those manacles and dat headpiece on," Catwissa said, pointing at each in turn. "Before worrying about escaping ya should worry about getting those off yourself, and if your Tal'Thera still be here she'll probably be wearing a set as well."

Mikael once again touched the straps on his head. "I'm assuming they're removed the same way they're put on - magic."

Catwissa nodded. "I don't know exactly how dey work, but they're a bad bit of voodoo."

"Do you know exactly where we are? You said something about a barracks...do you know the layout of this place?"

Again the troll nodded. "I know some of it, only of the level we are currently on. This is a massive cavern, it..."

"What?" Mikael prompted.

Catwissa sighed heavily. "Goddess forgive me..." She gestured for Mikael to sit. "Ya will not understand most of this, but for ya to understand where we are I must try to explain." The troll waited until Mikael had settled himself across from her, then drew in a deep breath. "I am a priestess of the Path, it is a very secretive religion and so I cannot tell ya much unless ya born to it. I can tell ya that we are dedicated to Azeroth and its care - we carefully watch the world and preserve dat which we tink will give Azeroth and those who live upon it its best chance of survival. We deliver order ta where there is none, to preserve da world the best we can witout guiding it too forcibly."

"We?" Mikael repeated. "How many is 'we' and how do you know when to...step in?"

"There are three major tribes - the Truthseekers, the Fate Speakers, and the Hidden. Each tribe possessed one cavern in which they lived and learned. We stayed to our own tribes, except during those times where a marriage between the two is decided to be best for all."

Mikael looked at her as she fell silent. "...you were married off, weren't you?"

Catwissa nodded. "I was to be married to the son of the Fate Speakers' chieftain."

"And where is he now?"

"Dead," she said bluntly. "Jin'Loki and her little army of those creatures killed all but a handful of the Fate Speakers. Those who managed to escape I hope survived. Those who stayed were slain, either in the initial invasion or as sport for Jin'Loki's twisted humor. The Hidden tribe was slain, every man, woman, and child, but I cannot be certain that she had any hand in it as it happened several years ago."

"So she slaughtered the Fate Speakers at least...why are you here? How are you alive?"

Catwissa smiled grimly. "I shall tell ya that in a moment." She shifted so she could lean over and scoop up what dirt she could off the stone floor and spread it out somewhat evenly; carefully she drew three circles, then drew a series of intersecting lines connecting them all. "Three tribes, three caverns. Three mother trees that were our connection to the world, to the tribes, and to our goddess."

"So she's a nature goddess?" Mikael interrupted.

Catwissa smiled and chuckled. "Ya may call her that. She encompasses many aspects of the lives of her followers, ya can't categorize her in any one thing." She pointed to her circles and lines. "Jin'Loki was a member of my tribe, the Truthseekers. The tribes are all made up of different clans, different families, of course. I am the daughter of the chieftain, Jin'Loki is the daughter of one of the council...it's a group of males who help my father keep track of all da doings of the tribe, and also serve as spiritual leaders. Both Jin'Loki and I are roughly the same age, and also roughly the same age as da son of da Fate Speaker's chieftain. Ya can guess what happened, I bet."

"You were picked over her to marry," Mikael said quietly. "Why?"

Catwissa nodded, then sighed heavily. "Marrying into another tribe is a huge honor for da family of da one chosen."

"How were you chosen? Just because you were the daughter of the chieftain?"

She shook her head. "No. The entire council decided, along with my father. She was too violent, too unstable...her own father decided against her." Catwissa scraped her fingers across the dirt, scattering the circles and lines. "I was da better candidate, it was decided, so I prepared myself to be sent away...I miss me son," she added quietly. "I had ta leave him behind when I traveled here."

"You had a son before you were married?" Mikael asked.

"Yep," Catwissa said, smiling sadly. "Dis wasn't my first marriage...we of da Truthseekers live incredibly long lives. Had I actually married, he'd been my third husband."

Mikael raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said Truthseekers lived a long time?"

"I said that, yes," she nodded. "We don't spend all our lives in da caverns. Some choose to live outside in the world...my second husband died fighting alongside da first Horde. My first, I cannot tell ya what happened to him - not because I can't, but because I do not know," she added, seeing Mikael was about to ask.

"So you were sent here to marry," Mikael said after a moment. "Why did Jin'Loki...?"

Catwissa's smile turned grim. "Jin'Loki turned from the Path."

"What is this...Path you keep talking about?" Mikael asked, shaking his head. "I get that it's some sort of religion...but what is it?"

The female gestured helplessly, like she was trying to pull her words from the air itself. "I...can't really tell ya. Ya weren't born to the mysteries...I cannot tell you its secrets."

"Generalize then," he went on. "A path. A life's path? A way to a religious end? Some sort of heaven?"

"If...I had to...generalize as ya put it, it's like. It's like you have a destination. Ya know where you're beginning. The test is how you travel the path to get there, and how you interact wit da world as you go."

"So...it's like you're being judged by your goddess, on how you live your life?"

Catwissa simply nodded. "Far more complicated than that, but ya can think of it that way."

Mikael shook his head - this wasn't really something he should be trying to figure out right now anyway. His first priority was to find Tal'Thera, and then find a way to get them all out of here. "So, do you know your way around this place?"

"If I am freed from this room, I'm certain I could guide us around well enough. How do ya plan on finding your blood elf?"

Mikael bit his lower lip, inhaling deeply. "Well, I-" Suddenly his head jerked sideways, like he'd been struck; when he turned back to face Catwissa, his nose was bloodied and his expression was one of rage.

"She's hurting Tal'Thera..." he growled, moments before jerking again.

* * *

Tal'Thera was curled up in the far corner of her cell, having exhausted herself trying to find a way out and feeling like she'd been driven half mad by the screams that had long since stopped. She refused to believe what that might mean, and part of her burned angrily thinking of her own helplessness to help her warlock.

'I'm so useless...' she thought over and over again, covering her head with her hands. 'Mikael...'

There was a rattle, then a click as the lock in her celldoor turned, then the door swung open to reveal the same female troll that had thrown her in here in the first place.

"_Morning, elf," _the troll sneered, striding in.

Tal'Thera struggled to her feet and lunged at the troll without hardly thinking. "_Is he dead? Did you kill him? Where is he?" _she sobbed, beating at her.

The troll easily caught the mage's fists and restrained her. "_That's no way to treat your host, now is it?" _ She flung the blood elf's arms wide and swung her fist in a wide arc, backhanding the mage across the face and sending her crashing to the ground. "_Sit down and shut up, if ya know what's good for you."_

Tal'Thera saw a flash of light at the impact then hit the floor, then sat up quickly and went to stand again, but caught the tip of Jin'Loki''s foot in her stomach and was flung backwards to the floor. She sat up and cowered on the floor, whimpering as she looked up to see the troll coming at her again with a demented gleam in her eyes.

She curled into a ball and covered her head with her hands as best she could and waited for the blows to come, but after several breaths there was nothing. Cautiously she raised her head, and was surprised to find herself half-blinded by a white light...then she gasped and scrambled away on her hands and knees from the spectacle unfolding before her eyes.

Once again there was a ghostly Mikael there, the same pale gaunt Mikael she had seen twice before in her bedroom and in the mirror. His back was to her, and he was calmly taking the blows Jin'Loki was raining down on him - and the troll didn't even seem fazed by the image. The beating went on for several more minutes, the specter quietly accepting all punishment dealt by the frenzied troll.

"_Raise your hand against me one more time, I dare ya! I-" _Jin'Loki crowed, but then stopped abruptly, blinking in confusion as though she suddenly realized what she was hitting. She stopped, stepped backward several steps, staring open-mouthed at the kneeling image. "_What is this?"_

The troll stood staring, and before her eyes the image faded away; immediately she pounced upon Tal'Thera and pulled the blood elf up by the hair.

"_What was that?!" _she shrieked at her. "_What did you cast?!"_

_ "I-I didn't!" _Tal'Thera sobbed. "_I didn't cast a thing!"_

Once again Tal'Thera found herself thrown to the floor, this time with Jin'Loki straddling her.

"_You're damn right, you're DAMN RIGHT ya didn't cast anything!" _the troll snarled, seizing Tal'Thera's chin in an iron grip. "_I'll make sure ya don't cast anything!"_

Something was forced over her head, and Tal'Thera struggled feebly, hardly able to breathe let alone move under the other female. Finally the weight was gone and Tal'Thera lay in the floor, gasping and crying weakly, as her hands explored whatever it was that had been wrapped around her head. Leather straps encircled her head, around her forehead to the back of her head and around her chin and the top of her head, bound together with metal rings at her temples.

Jin'Loki was panting, staring at the place on the floor where the ghostly warlock had appeared. "_I don't know what ya did, but you'll pay for it...or, not," _the troll suddenly purred. "_Get up, stand up, and listen."_

Tal'Thera stood up, trembling, as the troll began to pace back and forth in the tiny cell.

"_What do you want with me?" _she asked timidly after several moments of silence.

Jin'Loki smiled nastily at her. "_Let me tell ya something, blood elf. I am in control here. You misbehave, and you'll pay for it...and when I say you'll pay for it, I mean your little boyfriend will pay for it."_

_ "Mikael is still alive?" _Tal'Thera blurted, clenching her hands in front of her.

"_For now," _Jin'Loki chuckled. "_He'll stay that way so long as ya do what I tell you to do." _The troll turned from her and strode out the door. "_Follow."_

Hesitating briefly, Tal'Thera obeyed and hurried after the troll, finding that outside of her cell was a cramped stone hallway lined with other cell doors. The troll was rapidly disappearing down the hallway, heading left, and so the blood elf ran after her, tamely walking along behind her once she'd caught up. They wound through other hallways until finally they entered a single cavern that held what looked like a well in the center...

Jin'Loki strode to the well and stood by it, gesturing irritably when she saw Tal'Thera had stopped to stare.

"_Get over here or I'll start bringing you pieces of your damn warlock," _she snarled.

Tal'Thera quickly moved to stand cautiously by the troll, glancing at the well from out of the corner of an eye.

To all appearances it was a regular brick and mortar well, perhaps five feet in diameter, and of an unknown depth. It looked ancient though, that was for certain - what was a well doing in the middle of a cavern?

Jin'Loki seized the mage's arm and shoved her partially over the edge. "_In."_

_ "W-what?"_

_ "In, get in!" _the troll snapped, shoving her further.

Tal'Thera bent over and away from her, more so to avoid from toppling headfirst into the well, and once Jin'Loki had let go of her she slipped one leg up over the brickwork and straddled the well, staring down into it. She saw a glint, guessed that to be the water level, then swallowed when she saw that it had to be at least twenty feet below her - the depth of the well itself was anyone's guess.

She shrieked as Jin'Loki shoved her and she fell sideways into the well, tucking desperately into a ball to avoid hitting her head - or anything else for that matter - on the sides as she plummeted. She expected a fairly uncomfortable impact as she hit the water, but instead all she felt was a mild energy field, like a strong static shock, and then she wasn't falling down a well but floating slowly through a tunnel.

Looking up she could see the bottoms of Jin'Loki's feet descending toward her, and she could also see the circular end of the bottom of the well jutting from the ceiling above them like a severed pipe. The ceiling appeared to be stone, but rippled like water, much like how what she had thought the water in the well had looked like. Looking down, however...

Tal'Thera touched down gently and stood staring, open-mouthed, at the monstrosity before her.

It was a tree, one more massive than she could ever think possible; she stood on a gnarled coil of root rising from the floor - which, she noticed, was an actual pool of water - and was one of hundreds rising from the underground lake that she could see. The cavern housing the tree appeared to be lit by the tree itself, and cast a sickly green glow on everything below the sprawling canopy of leaves above. The bark covering the trunk was dark, and studded with smoky gray crystals that also lent a faint light to the place; she looked down and one of the crystals was barely an inch from her foot, and she scooted away from it warily.

Also dotting the bark were strange protuberances, like pimples dotting the wood; they were scattered irregularly across the whole of the tree, sticking out even on the thinner limbs that dipped down to touch the water. Oddly enough, each one of these bumps seemed to have an abundance of the crystals covering it; paying closer attention showed that yes, every one of them had several of the gray crystal formations growing on it.

She raised her eyes up to the canopy again, and again found herself gaping as she took in the greenery of the tree. The leaves themselves appeared to be fully charged with energy, and it was the leaves that were providing the green light, but the remarkable thing that kept drawing her attention was the sprite-like entities darting around the branches. They looked like mostly formless clouds of white mist, vaguely humanoid and in varying sizes - she thought she saw some that could be imagined as blood elves, some that could have been tauren, or perhaps draenei. They drifted among the branches, danced around the leaves and swung up out of her line of vision, eerily beautiful.

A sudden shrieking of breaking wood spun her around. Out on a branch suspended over the water, one of the bumps was tearing open in a shower of splinters. As the sounds of ripping timber faded and the hole in the branch grew wider, Tal'Thera could hear a high-pitched keening and then there were arms and claws pushing out; with a final cry, one of the snake-creatures she'd come to fear tore free of the tree and fell, splashing into the water and disappearing beneath its dark surface. Tal'Thera flinched and quickly moved to center herself on the root she stood on, a sick bubble of fear forming in the pit of her stomach as she thought about what _may _be lurking beneath the surface of the water.

A wailing drew her gaze upward again, and she looked up in time to see one of the darting, misty forms get drawn into the gaping hole left by the bizarre birth of the snake beast. Just before it disappeared fully into the hole, it became a solid, screaming being - the tauren female shrieked endlessly as she was pulled in, struggling, into the hole and the wood sealed around her.

Tal'Thera covered her mouth to prevent herself from becoming sick from the rising sense of horror as Jin'Loki landed lightly behind her and began to laugh.

"_Isn't it great?" _the troll crowed, stalking forward. "_It's beautiful, isn't it?"_

_ "It's monstrous!" _Tal'Thera gasped, then shrieked as the troll grabbed her shoulders and tilted her out over the water. "_Oh, no please! Don't drop me! Don't drop me!"_

Jin'Loki bent her closer, laughing as the blood elf frantically grasped at her, and then she swung the mage back up and steadied her. "_What, don't want to swim with my pets? They'd love a pretty ting like you to play with. Follow, and if ya fall in it's not my fault."_

_ "What is this place?" _Tal'Thera whispered, as Jin'Loki turned away and began to hop from root to root heading for the main trunk of the tree.

"_This is going to be your home for as long as it takes for ya to complete a task for me."_

"_What do you want with me? Where is Mikael?"_

The troll turned around and raised a finger. "_Listen here, pretty thing," _she said quietly. "_Your little pet human is being kept elsewhere, safe and alive, and he'll STAY that way until you finish what I want ya ta do. Ya misbehave, ya mess up, or you don't do it as quick as I want, and he'll pay for it in blood."_

_ "So if I complete this task, y-you'll let us go?" _the mage asked timidly, biting her lip as she closed her eyes and carefully jumped across from her root to the one the troll perched on.

"_No, but I won't kill ya...can't say the same for your male," _the troll added, grinning wickedly. "_Follow."_

They hopped from root to root until they came to a bare mud island at the base of the tree. Standing at the base of the trunk and looking up, the tree was bigger than any building in Silvermoon City; she truly had nothing to compare it to, and Jin'Loki had to drag her closer as she stood rooted to the spot.

Between two massive uprisings of roots appeared to be a hollow spot, an opening leading into the tree itself. Jin'Loki dragged her through the opening, and Tal'Thera found herself in a claustrophobic little room, barely five feet wide and with the ceiling hanging close overhead, and there wasn't a lot of room considering what filled the tiny space. To all appearances it looked like a giant wooden heart, glowing a soft red and pulsing gently like it were an actual beating heart.

"_This be the heart seed, the center of the tree and its life force," _Jin'Loki said, shoving Tal'Thera toward it. "_This be where you'll be working."_

_ "What...are you wanting me to do?" _Tal'Thera asked in a whisper, staring warily at the pulsing thing.

Jin'Loki approached the heart seed and ran her fingers down its side almost lovingly. "_This tree has two sisters. One has been destroyed. One remains out of my reach. I wish for you to find the pathway to the remaining tree." _Her smile became smug when she turned to look at the blood elf. "_You will do so only in my company, of course. I don't need you getting any silly ideas of finding your little warlock and escaping." _

The troll came around the heart seed and approached her, reaching into a pocket and pulling out an object that looked like a small gemstone, blood red and about the size of her thumbnail. She grabbed the blood elf by the chin and held her head still, touching the gem to the strap on the elf's forehead; instantly the straps went slack and fell around the mage's neck loosely.

"_You don't do anything, unless I do that," _the troll said. She rearranged the straps and pressed the gem to them and they tightened once more. "_See? Not so bad a deal, providing ya don't make me angry."_

_ "Can I see...can I see Mikael?" _Tal'Thera whispered, staring at the floor. "_I want to know he's okay."_

_ "If you convince me tomorrow that ya doing your best, then maybe I'll let you see him," _Jin'Loki said with a yawn. "_Back out we go."_

The troll pulled her from the heart seed chamber and guided her out across the water to the root they had landed on, once more pulling the blood red gem from her pocket and pointing it upward to where the barest outline of the bottom of the well could be seen.

An invisible force seized Tal'Thera around her midsection and lifted her up, rocketing toward the well's bottom; she flinched and hugged herself out of instinct to avoid hitting the walls, but she safely floated up and out of the well, landing a tad awkwardly and stumbling against it once she was out of the tunnel-like structure. She looked down in time to see Jin'Loki appear and fly up out of the well, stepping back to give the female room to land.

Jin'Loki dusted her hands on her hips and sneered. "_Back to your hole, elf. Your work begins tomorrow."_

* * *

"Care to explain to me what just happened?" Catwissa asked, calmly tearing strips of cloth from the hem of the ragged robe she'd produced from the pile of rags she used as a pallet to sleep on.

Mikael lay in that pallet now, once again bleeding and bruised and fighting just to stay awake. "It...was a ward," he gasped, grimacing. "It's usually...used between a master and servant...it-"

"The servant suffers the harm of the master," Catwissa said, frowning. In the corner of her cell was a pool of water, a hole down into a freshwater spring. The troll shuffled over and dipped several strips of cloth into the water and wrung them out. "Why then, did you suffer harm for the elf?"

"I reversed the casting..." Mikael replied quietly. "Instead of placing myself in the master's place, I...placed myself in the servant's." He fell silent as Catwissa returned to his side and began mopping dried blood off his face and chest. "I didn't realize it would be so potent."

Catwissa shook her head as she finished cleaning him up and then began to will her healing magic into him, patching up his battered body. "You're a fool, human."

"What does she want Tal'Thera for?" Mikael asked again.

"Ya elf is a mage, yes? Jin'Loki wishes to find the way into the remaining cavern, to slay my father and take control of the tree there, and the tribe if she can," the troll answered calmly.

"How can she do this?"

"You tell me," Catwissa said dryly. "You know this blood elf better than I."

Mikael sat up slowly, thinking. "...how do you get into the caverns?"

"The trees themselves are pathways in and out," Catwissa explained. "One of our tribe can use the wood of the sacred tree to travel to any other tree in the world, so long as they have physically visited that tree first. However...Jin'Loki has forsaken the Path, so her ability to return to our cavern has left her. She will do whatever she can to find this pathway back in, so that she can take her vengeance on my family and home."

"If she needed Tal'Thera, then why keep you alive?"

"Perhaps she believes that if your elf cannot find the way, that she will be able to break me to the point of revealing it. I cannot say for certain."

Mikael let his manacled hands drop into his lap, thinking. "I'll find a way out of this, I know I will."

"You will be helpless so long as you are trapped here with me," Catwissa said quietly. "And the only way you shall be leaving here will be at the end of Jin'Loki's whip."

"No," he said firmly. "It won't be me looking for a way out." He turned to stare at the wall on the far side of the room. "It'll be...her."

Catwissa turned to look that way, then looked back at him curiously. "I'm certain your blood elf is as imprisoned as you are. How can you expect her to formulate a plan?"

"Not Tal'Thera...Elervina," Mikael said, smiling as the succubus finally faded into view.

Catwissa swore softly, scooting away, and Mikael reached out to lay his hands on her arm. "It's okay...she's my servant."

"How did you call her?" the troll demanded. "Your magic is suppressed, it should have caused you great pain!"

"I come when my master needs me most," Elervina replied. She twitched her wings and took a few steps from the wall. "Only his will held me here, invisible, while he suffered..."

Mikael nodded to her, and she rushed over to him to throw herself at his side, wings twitching wildly. "Oh master, let me kill her! Let me taste her blood! Let-"

"No, Elervina, no," he said firmly, reaching up to rest his hands on either side of her face. "I need you now more than ever, Elervina, if I'm to get everyone out of here alive. Will you listen to me?"

"Anything, anything for you master," the succubus whispered.

"Good girl," Mikael sighed, stroking her cheek a moment before letting his hands drop back into his lap. "Elervina, I need you to do something for me. When Jin'Loki comes back and opens that door, I need you to get out quietly and to find my things. With any luck, with my armor and my cloak, you're going to find a shard of glass. I need that glass, Elervina. I need you to bring it back to me whatever it takes. Can you do that? A shard of glass."

The succubus nodded, then leaned in and kissed him before he could tell her no. She then leapt to her hooves and backed away, back toward the wall she'd appeared on and then faded away to invisibility.

Almost as soon as she had faded away, the door rattled and then melted into the wall to reveal Jin'Loki.

"Rise and shine," the troll chuckled. "How we feeling?" Without waiting for an answer she gestured sharply and Mikael's arms shot up above his head with enough force to actually lift him several inches off the ground. "Up," the troll ordered, gesturing again.

Mikael rolled a leg beneath him and was soon standing, his hands still suspended over his head.

'Damn manacles,' he thought angrily, staring up at them.

The troll crooked a finger and this time the manacles jerked him toward her, almost knocking him off his feet. "Hope ya slept well, got a few things to show ya."

It was rather hard to walk with his hands stretched out so far ahead of him, but in a moment he was standing with Jin'Loki outside the cell. The troll glared in at the other female, snorting.

"Sit there like the good little dog you are," she snapped, waving her hand and causing the wall to reappear.

Mikael tried very hard to not stare at the briefest of shadows he had seen dart out of the cell seconds before the door had reappeared - Elervina could go invisible to the point not even he could detect her presence, but he was certain of what he'd seen...all he could do now was endure and hope.

* * *

Jakani flexed his fingers then snapped them, and with a gasp Sevei woke.

"All right now. All been gathered, time to talk."

"Who are you?" Pathora asked. "And where am I?"

"I be Jakani, chieftain. Ya be in my home...who sent ya tru da tree anyhow?"

"A youth named Bentar."

Jakani sighed heavily. "He's dead, I imagine." Pathora nodded. "I thought so, but didn't want ta believe it. Anudder son, gone. I shouldn't be outlivin' me offpsring, mon..." Again he sighed, bowed his head briefly, then looked up. "Dis here be me daughter," he said, gesturing to the female with her head in his lap. "She be ya guide while ya in my home." He patted her head, smiling fondly, and wordlessly the female got up and disappeared the way they'd entered, then he rested his hands on his knees and bent forward. "Feelin' a bit disoriented dere?" he asked softly, gazing at Sevei.

The draenei blinked slowly several times, then sat up, holding his head in his hands. "My wife is-"

Saliea silently placed her hands on his arm, and he turned to her with a look of immense relief on his face, pulling her into a hug. "I thought I'd lost you..." He squeezed his eyes shut a moment, then opened them to look around, silently taking count of the number of people in the room. "No one was injured?" He smiled slightly when he looked back to Saliea and took in the bandages. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Saliea simply smiled, her mouth still held shut by Jakani's spell, and merely melted into his hug.

Sevei swallowed hard, then turned to Jakani. "Elder. Why have you brought us here?"

"Dat be what I about ta tell ya," Jakani said, his tone grave. "I ask ya all ta sit and listen, for what I about ta say be simple in word, complex in meanin."

He paused to clear his throat, then fixed them all with an intent stare. "I be chieftain of my people, and someone be out ta wipe us from da face of Azeroth. What hurts da most is it be the work of someone we once called family." Jakani ran a hand over his face. "Part o' her plan included ya," he went on, this time looking specifically at Saliea.

He waved a hand and she felt her jaw unlock, and she massaged it gently for a moment before replying. "Why me?"

"Da spirits will share information if it be to da advantage of those dey look after," Jakani said quietly. "Dey have told me dat ya will have a son dat will be instrumental in preservin' or destroyin' da future." He stared pointedly at her midsection even as she covered her stomach with one hand. "It might not be dat child ya be carryin' and it might not be da next one, or da next one, but ya gonna have a powerful child, mon. I had ta get ya away from her before she put a stop ta da existence of you and the possibility of such a child or, worse yet, took da child fer herself."

Now Saliea stared down at herself. Her? Have a powerful child? She looked up and met Sevei's gaze, smiled weakly as he smiled at her. "That's...a rather surprising thing to hear," she said finally. "I'm not sure I can believe it."

"Whether ya do or not, I took da steps needed ta ensure ya get a chance ta have dat baby," Jakani said. "Whether ya kid decides ta be a savior or a destroyer of worlds will be up ta him, but all livin' creatures should get dat choice, not have it made for dem."

"So you had us brought here...to save our child," Sevei said softly. He tucked Saliea in against his side and hugged her again. "Thank you."

"Don't be thankin' me yet, shaman," Jakani said, blowing out a sigh that seemed to not end. "Dere be more ta dis den ya know. For one, I know who be behind da disappearances of ya people."

Instantly, Jakani knew he had everyone's undivided attention.

"You know who's been causing all those people to disappear?" Saliea asked in a rush. "Who? Why? Where are they?"

"A troll named Jin'Loki was once apart o' dis tribe," Jakani said gravely. "She has betrayed us, left ta serve her own dark purposes. She seeks our destruction, and ta do dat she be needin' an army."

"All those people..." Pathora said slowly. "Those creatures."

Jakani nodded. "All da people are gone, worse dan dead. Dey be transformed inta da twisted tings ya saw. Death be a merciful end for dem. To dat end, here is why I have brought ya here." Now the troll's gaze shifted, and locked with that of Sevei's. "You, young shaman. Da spirits told me ya would come ta me, ta help me find my missin' child and ta set da world ta rights...it be time ta earn dat life granted to ya in Terrokar," he added softly.

Sevei flinched and went pale. "...how do you know about that?" he asked in a whisper.

"Know about what?" Saliea asked, looking between the two shaman.

Jakani looked at her, smiling sadly. "I be lettin' him tell ya."

"Sevei..." she said slowly, looking now at her husband. "What does he mean?"

The draenei quickly looked away, staring at the floor across the room. "I...it's nothing, I-" he trailed off, swallowing again. He shuffled around, got on his knees, and took her hands in his. "My love, do not think I hid this from you on purpose. You saw me after the fight in the forest, where I laid in Aldor Rise, surrounded by my family. You were told I had come very near to death...that is true. But it went far beyond that."

Her look was fading from one of confusion rapidly into one of shock.

"I...died in the forest that day, Saliea," Sevei said, licking his lips. "The spirits gave me the gift of life." He looked at Jakani, the faintest trace of anger coloring his features. "I did not want to cause you pain, watching me die, and when I sent you away I felt myself dying then. I had wanted to tell you the truth, but how does one begin such a conversation?"

The draenei looked at everyone else, then lowered his gaze to the floor. "I can assure you this was not the way I intended you to learn of such a thing."

Jakani bowed his head. "Wat is in da past is in da past. Wat matters now is earnin' da life ya were granted dat day, shaman. Ya help me find me missin' child, and help me put a stop ta da evil dat be threatenin' my people, and ya shall have earned ya life thrice over."

"I am yours to command, elder," Sevei said quietly, staring once more at the floor. He didn't try to stop her when, with a shake of her head, Saliea pulled away from him and ran out the door; they all listened to her footsteps pounding on the stairs in silence, then Jakani cleared his throat.

"Now den. I tell ya wat be happenin' and wat I need done."

"First, I must tell ya of my goddess... At da beginning of things, she was created on anudder world, much like da Aspects and Loa of ours. Dere were three of them – two sisters, one brother. Charged to protect da world they was born on. She was born of Order. Her sister born of Chaos. Dere brother born of Balance. Together da three kept dere world in harmony. For millenia dey kept da world safe, until da sister of Chaos' own nature overwhelmed her. She viciously attacked her siblings, mortally woundin' Order and blinding Balance, and when she have both at her mercy, she cast them out: out of dere world and into the void between da worlds. Balance found his sister Order, and comforted her as dey fell – dey fell for many years in da void, until dey fell onto Azeroth."

"When dey arrive here, dey knew dey did not belong here, and dey try to hide. But Order was near death, and Balance wished to safeguard her. He find us, den – trolls. We were not then as we are now, dose were the earliest trolls, our ancestors. Balance, he found them and asked them to safeguard Order's spirit until he found a way to go home. My ancestors did as asked, and for many centuries watched over the dyin' goddess. But dey never saw Balance again, and Order imparted wisdom and da gift of the trees...we called her da One, and accepted her gift of a home as her spirit left and her essence died."

Jakani gestured upward, to the room and the ceiling. "We be livin' in dis tree, a sacred tree of da One. Dere was once three o' dem, and three tribes ta safeguard da trees and da connection it gave us to our lost goddess. Jin'Loki was once a part o' dis tribe...but she has betrayed us." Jakani stood, his headdress rustling as he began to pace before them. "Jin'Loki was behind da slaughterin' of almost all da Fate Speakers tribe. A handful escaped, and dey be here in wit' us unner my protection. Da tribe of da Hidden be entirely gone - da Hidden's way o' life and da understandin' of da mysteries be lost ta time forever. My tribe, da Truth Seekers, be da last remainin' tribe holdin' da rites, and Jin'Loki has set herself onna path ta see us wiped out, and see our goddess's memory wiped from dis world forever. I not gonna let dat happen," he said firmly.

"In desperation I prayed ta da spirits. Dey tell me of ya child, shaman, an' of you." The troll spun on a heel and approached the fireplace, reaching into the kettle suspended over the small fire within it to withdraw a handful of steaming green leaves. These he tossed into the flames, and within moments the smoke had turned from blue-gray to a brilliant yellow, and billowed around the ancient troll like a shroud.

"Dere was a time where tribe relations required da sons and daughters of da chieftains and councils ta marry," Jakani went on, gesturing. At his hand signals the smoke whirled and moved, twisting itself into humanoid shapes that walked across the room toward those watching. "Me daughter, Catwissa, was ta be married to the eldest son o' da Fate Speakers. T'was not an easy decision, for dere was anudder female ta consider too - Jin'Loki. She be da daughter of one o' my council, a gathering o' da elders dat help me help my people...ya must unnerstand dat my tribe was da largest even before Jin'Loki started killin' and I knew I couldn't be everywhere, mon. My daughter, an' his daughter, were of da proper age ta be considered...but my Catwissa was chosen over Jin'Loki. It be a big honor, mon, ta be married ta anudder tribe, and Jin'Loki...Jin'Loki did not take da rejection well. We all knew, even her da knew, dat she was not right in da head. She was too violent, too bloodthirsty, and worse of all she was suspected o' not being true to da Path. So, dose tings in mind, we chose my Catwissa, and she was sent away."

"Soon afterwar, we received word dat da couriers sent from da Fate Speakers to da Hidden found da cavern full of evil magic, and da sacred tree destroyed. Dose dat survived ta make it back to da Fate Speakers provided da story, and dey began a search for survivin' Hidden...none were found. Da Hidden were lost, and so was da tree. Me daughter's day of marriage was approachin' and seven days before da ceremony ta officially bind dem together, communications wit' da Fate Speakers stopped...we have been unable ta get into da caverns dere, but survivors made it ta us, and told us da tale o' how Jin'Loki led an army of nightmares in ta da caverns, took control o' da tree, and killed all who didn't flee."

The smoke figures had been changing, forming themselves into more intricate shapes, ones that more clearly resembled trolls of all ages; as they watched, further figures in the smoke appeared, those of the snake-beasts that they'd seen, and these creatures fell upon the others and a violent massacre was played out in complete silence before their eyes. Jakani clapped his hands and the smoke fell to formless coils again, hugging the floor and swirling around his feet as the troll came up to stand before them all again.

"I show ya dis," he said quietly, reaching to his robes and loosening the belt that held them closed. He wriggled his upper body, freeing his shoulders and arms from the fabric, then folded his robes down to his waist to reveal his bare chest.

"Hey, those are the same patterns on those fighters," Darae said, jumping at the sound of his own voice and then looking sheepish.

Jakani smiled kindly at him. "Keen eye, boy. Dese markins," Jakani went on, running his fingers over the jagged red patterns spiraling out from above his heart, "are da markins of da heart seed, da soul o' da tree we live in. Da elite warriors, da protectors o' da chieftain and da tribe, wear dese tattoos as an eternal reminder o' wat dey safeguard. Chieftains wear dem, however, because we be tied ta da tree itself." He began to slide back into his robes, grimacing as he wriggled back into them and tied them shut once more. "Da warriors take da full markins, da chieftains wear da ones I wear. We mark our bodies in da name o' da One, in memory of da One who granted us da knowledge and da wisdom needed ta protect and ta lead. Dese markins are wat have allowed me ta shelter my tribe and dose who remain of the Fate Speakers."

Jakani bent and scooped smoke from the ground, holding it between his hands as though it were clay, and with exaggerated gestures he began to shape it as such. A female troll stood before them, detailed enough that they could see her features and her smug smile clearly. "Dis be Jin'Loki. She be dangerous. I can tell ya, she gonna be doin' whatever she can ta get back in our caverns an' kill us."

"If she is a part of your tribe - or was," Pathora quickly corrected himself, "then can she not return here anyway?"

Jakani shook his head. "One o' da gifts from da One is da ability ta walk da trees. So long as we visited da tree at least once in our lives, we can use da sacred tree here ta travel ta any tree in Azeroth. Doorways upon doorways, we can get anywhere instantly, and likewise, we can always find our way home. The moment Jin'Loki forsook da Path, her ability to return here was forgotten, and I myself be responsible for blockin' her further attempts ta force her way in here, but it be only a matter o' time before she find some way around me magic."

"How is she making all those people disappear?" the warrior went on then. "And, how is she blocking the green dragons' ability to enter the Emerald Dream at will? All communications with the greens inside the Dream have been essentially cut off - one must enter the Dream itself and even then actually finding a way to them is a painful ordeal. There is also the very real danger of becoming lost."

Jakani shrugged. "I dunno, mon. Da Emerald Dream be da druid's realm, not mine. Somehow, Jin'Loki's found a way. I can't tell ya wat, but I can tell ya I try ta help ya reverse wat she done. Our goals be da same, master fighter - findin' me girl and preservin' ma tribe will lead ta stoppin' Jin'Loki and her kidnappin' o' people." His gaze shifted to where, behind all the others, Pit still hugged the wall, staring at the floor. "Ya got one wit' ya dat almost fell prey ta her. Ya have wat he brought wit' him."

Pathora produced the smokey gray crystal, and offered it to the elderly troll. Jakani carefully took it between two fingers, peering at it.

"Ya Emerald Dream got da Nightmare in it," Jakani said quietly. "Dis be part o' dat, I bet. Somehow, Jin'Loki find a way ta siphon energy from dat Nightmare, and be usin' it ta twist people into nightmares demselves."

"How can you know that for sure?" Pathora asked, holding out his hand as Jakani handed it back.

"Da spirits tell me so."

"How is this capturing people? I've been into the Dream. There is a barrier between waking and dreaming," the night elf said firmly. "If people are being taken, how? When? There is no pattern to it."

"Dere be a pattern. It be when dey sleep, and if me guess be correct...when dey have a nightmare dey can't wake up from." The troll swept his hand out, scattering the smoke-image of Jin'Loki and watching silently as the smoke was sucked up the chimney and disappeared. "Nuttin' be worse dan havin' a dream ya can't seem ta wake up from...so da people who can't wake up, never do. And as for how...ask him," the troll added, pointing to Pit, who was still leaning against the wall just inside the door and staring silently at the floor, carefully rubbing his eyes with one hand.

Pathora frowned, looking between troll and blood elf. "How? I can't speak his tongue."

"Ya got a druid dat can."

The night elf growled in frustration. "But we've already _asked _him what happened. He didn't know. He told us all he could."

"And wat did he tell ya?"

"Dat - that," the warrior corrected himself irritably, "that he fell asleep beneath a tree. Then woke up in our company."

"Den people are taken when dey fall into a nightmare, and whatevah magic pulls da mind in also pulls da body."

Darae, still beside Sevei, fidgeted. "So a nightmare can eat you?"

"Only da bad ones," Jakani said, chuckling when he saw the look on the boy's face. "No nightmare can take ya from here, boy, don' worry. Not a single member o' my tribe have disappeared so long as dey remain unner my protection. Ya can sleep easy tonight."

The troll now turned and began walking toward the curtain he'd come through. "Dat be enough for tonight. Tink on wat I told ya, prepare yaselves. Tomorrow I begin da preparations needed ta find da anchor for da Fate Speakers. I don' dare ask one o' da survivors ta do it, remindin' dem o' wat dey lost, so I will need time ta prepare ta find it myself."

"The what?" Pathora asked dryly, once the troll had stopped speaking.

Jakani turned back around, smiling. "Da anchor. Da caverns be hidden from da world, da only way in or out bein' tru our sacred trees, but on da surface world dere is a single anchor tree dat will always take ya to da sacred one of da cavern dat tree is anchored to. Da one leadin' to da Fate Speakers could be anywhere in Azeroth, it might take me a day ta find it. If I go from dis tree directly to da sacred one in da Fate Speakers' home, I only be openin' the way for Jin'Loki to follow me back. If I use da anchor, she will only find da anchor."

"And if Jin'Loki finds the tree anchored to the tree here?"

"She won't. She never knew it existed in da first place," Jakani said, turning back and disappearing behind the curtain. "Ya sleep here tonight, my tribe be showin' ya troll hospitality like ya never seen," came his final words, and then there was silence except for the occasional pop from the fire.

"If ya come wit' me, I show ya where ya can sleep."

They all jumped and turned, to see Jakani's daughter standing in the other doorway leading up the stairs and out of the tree. She turned and said a few things to Pit, offering a hand to help the blood elf up, then motioned for them all to follow and disappeared through the door.


	18. Chapter 18

Once outside the great tree their guide stopped them, then nudged Sevei in the side with an elbow.

"She be out in da orchard," the troll said, nodding to their left.

Sevei opened his mouth, closed it, looked down at Darae then over at Pathora; the warrior nodded and dropped a hand on the boy's shoulder, and Sevei bowed slightly then hurried off in the direction the troll had indicated.

"Now, ya follow me and I'll show ya where ya can clean up some, rest a bit before eatin."

She headed off through the trees with Pathora, Pit, and Darae following along; after several minutes of tromping along in near-silence, Pit finally stopped and leaned against a tree.

"_Okay, miss?"_

The guide turned around, looking at him curiously.

"_I've run into three doors, tripped six times, and just now ran into a low-hanging branch. There's not enough light here for me to see, do you mind if I summon a few things?"_

The female covered her mouth with her hand to hide her snickering. "_Well...so long as it don't threaten me people."_

_ "It won't," _the blood elf promised. He went into his casting, and after a few spells was bending to lift a capering imp up to his shoulder, above which now floated a large green eyeball. Pit glanced this way and that, and the eye responded by moving and turning according to his movements. "_All right, hopefully this will be enough until I can retrieve my goggles." _He poked the imp and glared up at him. "_If even for a moment you think me running into - or OFF - something is _funny-"

_"It won't happen again, Master, I promise," _the imp replied.

"_See that it doesn't."_

Now he pushed off away from the tree and strode up to them, nodding. The troll eyed the floating eye a moment, then shrugged and continued leading them from the orchard and back down the dirt path toward the city of tents far below. Even this far from them, their little group could make out a flurry of activity going on in the town - trolls carrying lanterns went to and fro, in various stages of hurry, and as the minutes wore on and they drew even closer, they could begin to hear the activity. The trolls were singing, laughing, calling to each other in their native language, and they seemed to be preparing for something.

The hill they were walking down was beginning to be less steep, was flattening out, and just before they had reached what appeared to be the beginning of the main center of the town their guide stopped them and gestured to a line of tents that looked nearly erected.

"Here we be. Three tents - one for da blood elf, one for da warrior, and one for da family. There's water, clean clothin' in dere, I'll come back for ya when da food's done."

"What's going on?" Pathora asked, gesturing at the town.

She smiled, and it looked a tad sad. "We're preparin' for it."

"For what?"

"For leavin' home."

* * *

"Sal?"

Still no answer from his wife. Inwardly Sevei sighed and mentally berated himself for having let it go this long without ever telling her...he'd promised to share everything of himself with her, when he asked her to become his wife, and now it'd just been proven that he'd been keeping something a secret. Rationally, he knew that there wasn't any way anyone could go through their lives without some sort of 'secret' being kept to just themselves, and he HAD intended to tell her...somehow. That it'd been told to her like this...

Sevei knew someday he would be required to earn the life the spirits had granted him that day, and even without having to repay the spirits he would have helped this old troll anyway - he merely wished that Jakani had not brought him to this point of needing to explain everything to Saliea, not in this way.

"Saliea?"

No answer again...this orchard was quite large, and he had half a mind to ask for some assistance in finding the night elf - she could hide amazingly well if she did not want to be found - when he heard a rustling from the opposite side of a wide apple tree he stood near. Knowing the noise to be purposely made, he slowly walked around the tree and there she was.

He knelt down, staring at the ground. "...you know that I love you, and that I would not lie to you."

She was curled up against the base of the tree, staring up into its branches with her hands resting over a stomach that would be bulging with their unborn child in the near future. "I know..."

"I meant to tell you. I really did...but the thought of my doing anything that would cause you pain makes me pause. I was frightened."

"I understand why you didn't tell me, my love," she sighed, sitting up and looking at him. "It was just a...shock, I guess. I needed to get somewhere away from anyone else and think."

"And what did you think about?"

She faintly smiled. "I tried to picture a life without you in it, and I couldn't. It made me ill to think about it, so I stopped." Now she looked back up into the tree. "It's peaceful out here."

He shuffled around to put his back to the tree, lifting an arm around her and pulling her into his side. "My recollection of what happened that day is...hazy, to say the least. But I remember being given another chance, and being told I would have to earn this chance. So I waited, wondering what the spirits would require of me - perhaps they would require me to lay down the very life I'd been given. I would gladly do that, for they have allowed me to know and to love you," he said softly, leaning over to rest his chin on the top of her head. "It pains me to think of ever losing you, but I died Saliea...I DIED, and they let me return. I owe my future to the spirits that placed my spirit back into my body."

"I understand that," she whispered, snuggling into his side. She snaked a hand over his lap and grabbed his free hand, placing it on her stomach. "I don't want to raise this child without you, Sevei, and I want to have many more than just this one."

"If I have any say, you won't have to raise it alone," he chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "I promised to take care of you, and to protect you, when I took you as my wife. I will always do that."

"Then we'll have to do the best we can, to take care of each other," Saliea said quietly. She twisted so she could look up at him. "When we both survive this, we're retiring somewhere quiet."

"Somewhere beautiful," he chuckled, leaning down to kiss her.

"Somewhere peaceful."

"Somewhere we can raise our children," he continued, "without fearing for their lives."

"With the way trouble seems to find us - find me, that is - that may be an impossible dream," Saliea sighed, smiling.

Sevei kissed her again, lightly tickling her stomach; she swatted at him and slid away, using the tree to pull herself to her feet. "I guess...we should return to the others, and see what this Jakani requires of us. They were heading back down into the town."

Sevei stood and, with Saliea protesting, swung her up into his arms to cradle her against his chest. "Do you remember when I first did this?"

"Yes," she purred. "Our wedding night, you carried me into our bedroom like this." She poked a finger into his chest. "Don't even think of pulling such a stunt here, not now."

"Oh, I won't...but as soon as we're home, however..."

She sighed and kissed him, more to wipe the mischievous smile off his lips than anything else. "If you're not going to put me down then walk, my husband. We should go back to the others."

Sevei chuckled and easily carried her among the trees, walking in silence; they had just left the orchard when Saliea hugged him around the neck tightly.

"What do you think...about what Jakani said about us having a special child?" she asked quietly.

Sevei stopped and let her slide to the ground, resting his hands on her shoulders. "I don't know what I think about that," he murmured, then sighed heavily before smiling down at her. "Special or not, it will be our child...that is special enough."

Slipping her hand into his, Saliea began to tug him along behind her down the dirt path the troll female had led her up previously. "I bet we'll run into our guide before we're even halfway down this hill."

"This is a big hill, getting halfway down it will take time, so you're probably right."

Sure enough they met back up with the female and she led them further down the hill to the same tents she had led the others to, pointing them to the third one in the line. "Ya boy be waitin' in there."

They thanked her and entered the tent to see Darae bent over a basin of water, scrubbing furiously at his face and the back of his neck; the youth jumped and spun around when they entered, startled, but blew out a sigh when he saw the two.

"Are you okay Darae?" Saliea asked with a smile, coming over to kneel by him.

Darae nodded, dropping the cloth he held back into the basin of water. "I think so...my neck hurts," he added, rubbing at it. "I think I grew a few inches."

Saliea laughed and shooed his hands away, examining him. "She left some bruises, but you look fine otherwise." A few brushes of her fingers and some healing magic erased the bruises like they'd never been there.

"Thank you, shan'do," Darae said, ducking his head. "Um, shan'do? The guide who brought us here said something...before she left."

"And what was that?"

"Well, Lord Pathora asked why all the trolls were being so active," the boy said, gesturing toward the tent flap and the town beyond it. "And she said that the trolls were getting ready to leave home."

"Leave home?" Sevei repeated, looking at Saliea. "Leave...here? Why?"

Saliea turned her gaze from him and looked around the tent, at the two sleeping pallets piled with pillows, at the neatly folded clothing they were no doubt expected to change into; with an exasperated sigh she seized the cloth out of the basin and wrung it out.

"I have no idea, but I'm sure we'll find out when Jakani is good and ready to tell us," she growled, peeling off bandages and beginning to scrub at the dirt and blood covering her forearms.

* * *

Once again he was hanging from a chain by his wrists, Jin'Loki pacing around him.

"What spell was it?" she asked finally.

"I beg your pardon?" Mikael snorted, moments before grunting as that damn whip bit into the flesh of his back again.

"Take the spell off the blood elf."

"What spell?"

Again, the whip cut into him.

"Don't treat me like dat, you wouldn't like me angry."

"I don't like you cheerful, sober, grumpy, or otherwise," Mikael growled.

Jin'Loki circled around to stand in front of him, whip in one hand and the other holding a dagger with a blackened blade. She teased the blade down his jawline, pressing hard enough to leave a reddened line but without drawing blood. "Don't tempt me, human. I can't kill you yet, but there are far worse things than death ya know."

Mikael pulled his head away from the blade. "You don't scare me, bitch, and so long as I'm breathing you can't lay a finger on Tal'Thera. Annoying, isn't it?"

She raised the whip again, wrapped a coil of it around his neck. "I'll ask ya one more time. Take the spell off the blood elf."

Mikael leaned as close as his bonds would let him. "Or what?" he whispered. "You've already said it yourself, you can't kill me. You can't kill me, and in turn you can't harm Tal'Thera. All you can do is beat on me, and you know what? I can handle that. I'm not scared of you, there is nothing you can do to me that will ever, ever make me remove that spell."

Jin'Loki slapped him, hard, with the hand holding the dagger, leaving a thin bleeding cut across his right cheek along with a faint numb sensation spreading from the scratch. "Don't provoke me. I'm warning you. There are far worse things than death, warlock."

Mikael stared at her evenly for several breaths, then spat at her; the troll calmly wiped the spittle off her chin and inhaled deeply, ripping the whip away from him and badly chafing the sides of his neck. "Do what you will. I'll gladly endure anything you care to throw at me," he growled.

"Very well den." She fiddled with a pocket then withdrew a blood red gemstone, holding it out in front of her and dropping her whip so she could wave a hand over it.

The stone floor beneath Mikael disappeared, and he actually lifted his feet away from what appeared in its place; a pit full of writhing, squirming, hissing snakes was now under him. Jin'Loki snickered nastily then clenched her fist over the gem, and the chains holding the warlock released; Mikael plummeted into the pit, landing and immediately losing his footing on the serpents, toppling sideways and beginning to writhe himself as the enraged snakes began to strike at him. Within seconds his chest and arms were full of bleeding bite marks and he could already feel the venom beginning to course through him, his body going numb in some places and burning with agony in others.

"Endure that for a while," the troll laughed. "Languish in nightmare, scream in pain, and dream in darkness."

Perhaps the worst part was feeling the scaly skin slide over his body as, when he ceased flinching in pain, the snakes began to slowly bury him. Feebly he tried keeping himself on top of the pile, receiving multiple new bites in return, but his strength was quickly leaving him as he began to sink deeper.

Jin'Loki's sneering face, peering at him from the top of the pit, was the last thing he saw before sinking beneath the mass of bodies, falling into pain and into darkness as the snakes coiled and dragged him down.

* * *

The cavern complex was rather simple. There was a major cavern that had what looked like a well in the center of it, and that was the large room just outside of the place she'd slipped out of. It pained her to watch as that troll dragged her master away, but he had ordered her to do something and she would do it if it meant saving his life.

Now...if she had stripped an enemy of his belongings and secured them somewhere, where would that place be?

Somewhere important. Somewhere you wouldn't believe anyone would dare intrude upon.

There were three hallways that branched off into several smaller, claustrophobic tunnels. Elervina quietly walked through these smaller corridors, thinking. She found others, eventually; they looked like cultists, or maybe soldiers, all gathered together in a sort of barracks and armory. There were weapons kept neatly in racks lining the walls, there were bunks to sleep in and training areas for combat. There were books kept in shelves, heavy tomes that were perused by beings of all races. All together there was maybe a score of humanoids inside this area - perhaps a small military force, or initiate cultists sent here for sheltered training.

It didn't really matter to her, of course; she was merely curious. And cautious - her detection and capture would likely mean death for her beloved master. That would not happen. She would die before that happened.

A quick scan of the area showed her that this would be an unlikely place to store the gear of an enemy - why leave something in plain sight, even if it was surrounded by your own men?

No, her master's things had to be someplace special...someplace considered sacred.

She skirted around one such being heading her direction, her invisibility and her gentle mental nudging assuring the suddenly distracted male orc that there was only him in this area of the room, then began to look for another way out of the barracks. There was nothing behind her but the prison area and the well room, so there had to be something here, something to indicate a commander. Where would that female troll, that had dragged off her master, sleep? Surely not among her own peons.

Elervina slipped along the wall, searching. Maybe there was a door hidden among the bunks, or disguised behind a bookshelf, or something. There had to be. She began to search the entire room, carefully avoiding the humanoids within it.

There had to be, but wherever it was hidden was either hidden rather well, or it simply did not exist in this room. These barracks were just that - barracks meant to be the living quarters for a military force. There wasn't anything else here.

'Okay, think...you saw the well room, it was nothing but the well structure inside a giant cavern. There was nothing there. Perhaps somewhere near the cells? That bitch enjoys pain, perhaps so much that she'd place herself close to it.'

With that in mind Elervina made her way out of the barracks and retraced her steps back to the magical doorway she'd slipped out of earlier. Poking around she found other narrow corridors leading off in seemingly random directions - a honeycomb of hallways lined with cell doors. Her master's little blood elf would likely be in this area, but would that troll have her quarters here? Maybe.

She silently stalked down the halls, looking into cells to see various beings in different stages of decomposing. All of the dead were trolls, and all had the appearance of being tortured to death - Elervina's stomach turned at the thought of her master being in the hands of that female - but she found neither the blood elf or what could be the troll's quarters, and eventually she realized that these rooms hadn't been prison cells originally, but had been hastily converted into such. Peering in several more and actually looking at the items in the room said as much - these had all been living quarters, as some still had small chests and dressers in them.

The succubus was beginning to feel the faintest hint of the human emotion of despair creeping into her mind - despair wasn't an emotion she'd been familiar with until Mikael had enslaved her, and was one of the emotions she'd learned of since becoming his servant. Despair gave her a funny feeling in her gut, and she didn't like it, so she tried her best to set it aside so she could think clearly, stepping back from examining the cells and leaning against the wall. Mikael's life likely depended on her finding his belongings and bringing them to him...

Fear. Fear was another emotion she hadn't been at all familiar with until meeting him. And right now she was beginning to feel fright as well as despair.

She clenched her fists tightly, feeling her own perfectly manicured nails slice into her palms. She had to THINK -

She had to duck into the recessed doorway leading into a cell as suddenly the wall and a section of the floor she'd been standing by disappeared. She was invisible, but even invisibility wouldn't save her if something bumped into her; quietly she watched, intently, as the troll that had captured her master came out of the newly-revealed hallway behind the wall.

The troll was laughing loudly, and tossing something up and down in her hands, something small and red. As Elervina watched, the doorway behind her 'closed' once more, becoming a blank wall, and the segment of wall exactly in front of that now disappeared to reveal another passage; the troll walked into this one, and Elervina found herself ducking inside it before it closed...or at least, she assumed before it closed, for on this side of the threshold she could see out into the previous hallway as though there was no wall at all. How very curious.

There was no sign of Mikael and this worried her; silently the succubus followed the troll down the short hallway, and smirked when they came to a bedroom - her guess about the quarters being hidden had been correct. Now the demon watched as the troll flopped down on an unmade bed and began to toss what turned out to be a small red gemstone up and down, expertly snatching it out of the air, still laughing.

Elervina took a few steps further into the room, gaze roaming around. There was a desk, a dresser - both covered in clothing tossed about carelessly - and a table full of maps and writing tools, as well as other assorted odds and ends, a few books, and what looked like a spyglass. There was the bed the troll was lounging in, but there was little else in the room. Tapping a finger against her lower lip, Elervina bent down and glanced under the table, then smiled to herself: there, in a pile beneath the table, was her master's leather armor, tossed over what she thought may possibly be his backpack. She crept over and was inching a hand below the table when she froze at the sound of the troll shifting in the bed. She glanced over a shoulder, having to flick a wing to the side to see around it, and saw that instead of standing – as the succubus had feared – the troll was sitting up in the bed and pulling off her armor, sending it tumbling to the floor in a jumble. After that she stretched out, back to the "doorway" and fell still.

Elervina went to again move to pick up her master's things, when a small click drew her attention again: now the troll had laid the red gemstone on the floor, next to her boots.

Elervina remained still, listening to the troll's breathing for what seemed like an eternity, listening to it slow, then she turned and carefully reached out and picked up the gemstone.

The weight of it in her hand and the power radiating from it told the demoness that this was no simple bauble, and that it was something the troll would notice missing and likely notice quickly; Elervina stuff the little stone down the front of her bodice, then began to roll up her master's armor and stick it inside the backpack. With the bulky pack Elervina wouldn't be able to move as stealthily, if at all - she'd never tried vanishing anything more than herself and her whip - and so now she REALLY needed to leave this room before the troll awakened, or at the very least before she rolled over.

Moving as quietly as she could Elervina made it out of the concealed hallway and halfway back to the hidden cell that held that other female troll that had healed her master. Her first instinct was to seek her master first, but she couldn't do that with the pack with her; she would leave this with that troll to hide, then she'd go back out and attempt to find Mikael within the complex.

It wasn't until the succubus was in front of the wall that hid the cell that she began to think of how she was going to get back inside; there was a solid rock wall here, as she discovered by rapping her knuckles on it. It likely worked like the walls leading to those concealed hallways, but once Elervina had walked through the barrier into the hallway the wall had become solid again. Jin'Loki had used something to open that wall, but what?

She thought of the gemstone resting between her breasts - that may be it, but how would she use it? If it wasn't demonic Elervina really had no chance at all of trying to use it -

The blood elf. The blood elf mage back in that cell. What if SHE could figure out how to use it?

Elervina adjusted the pack across her back and, all notions of trying to remain stealthy aside, began to run back toward the main prison area, glancing into every cell until she found the one that held the little blood elf her master had taken a liking to. A quick examination showed there were no wards or other such magic surrounding the cell, and the door itself was barred at its top, middle, and bottom with simple slide locks - further evidence that the cells had been hastily converted from living quarters to prisons, for no proper holding cell would be so poorly locked. She flicked the slide locks aside and yanked the door open; the mage inside looked up, terrified, eyes searching the apparently empty hallway.

Elervina faded into view, beckoning for her to come.

"_Who are you?" _the elf asked, eyes wide.

"_A servant of Mikael's. Come on, we're leaving," _Elervina answered, Orcish coming easily to her despite the amount of time that had passed since she last spoke it - Mikael wasn't her first master, after all.

"_Is he okay?"_

_ "He better be or I will personally kill every mortal that has laid a finger on him."_

_ "Where are we going?" _the mage whispered as she scurried along behind the succubus.

"_There is a troll in a room we need to figure out how to get in to," _Elervina said, peering around a corner before grabbing the blood elf's wrist and tugging her along. "_We don't have much time, I imagine."_

She led the female to the wall that stood between them and the hidden cell. "_This wall opens, can you do it?"_

Tal'Thera blinked at her. "_Can I what?"_

_ "Open it. Use magic."_

The blood elf gestured to a set of leather straps wrapped around her head. "_I was told with these on I cannot summon any magic."_

Elervina swore; with the blood elf with her the chance of being caught had skyrocketed. She needed to find a way into that cell!

She pulled the gemstone from her bodice and offered it to the elf. "_What about with this?"_

Tal'Thera rolled the stone over in her hands, biting her lower lip. "_I-"_

_ "Yes or no?"_

_ "I - possibly. This possesses a great deal of power. If it functions on its own power instead of drawing from mine-"_

_ "Shut up and try it then,"_ Elervina snapped, the blood elf jumping then swallowing hard.

"_I'm not certain I even know what I'm supposed to do - oh..." _she murmured, the gem flaring softly in her hand. "_Wait, I think I've...got it, possibly."_

Elervina almost slapped the female, as the elf took several more moments fiddling with the gem; finally, the wall in front of them began to crack, then crumble, then dissolved into a very fine sand that rolled around their ankles to reveal the prison behind it.

"_Oh, that's not what I intended to do," _Tal'Thera said faintly. She abruptly turned to Elervina and shoved the stone back into her hands. "_Take this, it writhes in the mind like a live animal...I don't like the feeling."_

Elervina clutched the stone and stepped into the darkened cell; the troll that had healed her master was sitting on her heels in the middle of the room, blinking up at her.

"He's still gone," the troll said quietly.

"We're going to find him then."

"Do you locate what he sought?"

Elervina mentally swore - she'd forgotten to actually LOOK for the shard of glass she'd been asked to find. She swung the pack to the floor and began to rummage through it, hoping that it would, by some miracle, be in here. When she didn't find anything in the pack, she tugged at the armor she'd stuffed in there and began to unroll it - maybe -

The shard of glass fell from the armor and landed with a plop into the pack.

"I found it," she said, sighing heavily.

The troll carefully reached out and picked up the glass, looking at it. "What did he intend to do with this?"

Elervina shrugged. "I don't know, but he asked me to get it so I did."

"_Where is Mikael?" _Tal'Thera asked then, slowly inching her way closer through the sand.

"_He has been taken by Jin'Loki, but I bet I know where," _the troll answered, standing. "_I am Catwissa. I will help you find him and escape."_

_ "Then let's go before Jin'Loki notices that this is gone," _Elervina said, opening her hand to reveal the red gemstone.

Catwissa swore in her own language and snatched it away from her. "_Where did you get this?"_

_ "Jin'Loki left it laying around."_

_ "Is she here?" _Catwissa asked, gripping the stone tightly.

_"Asleep, I believe," _Elervina replied.

"_We must go."_

_ "How do we find Mikael?" _Tal'Thera asked, stepping back out of the cell to the give the other two room.

Catwissa held out the stone, gesturing to it. "_This is a piece of the heartseed, the core of the sacred tree here. This is proof that the tree itself is dead, beyond the help of anyone...once the heartseed has been damaged or destroyed, the tree will die, it is only a matter of time."_

_ "The...heartseed...that poor tree," _Tal'Thera said quietly, staring at the ground.

"_You have seen it?"_

Tal'Thera looked up at Catwissa, nodding slightly, then returned her gaze to the floor. "_Yes. She wanted me to...she wanted me to somehow find a pathway between this tree and some other tree. I'm not certain how she was expecting me to do that, but the tree itself is...well, it's massive. And twisted. It's covered in crystals, and things like cysts that were birthing those horrendous snake-beasts. I saw - the heartseed? - the heartseed and through that I was somehow expected to link two trees together. I'm amazed the tree is even alive."_

_ "It's not, not in the sense that it once was," _Catwissa growled, looking beyond her to stare at the well in the distance. "_If what you said - and I what I feel - is true, then nothing remains of the tree as it was. It is something different now, a monstrosity that will need to be destroyed...but now is not the time for that," _she added, inhaling deeply as she looked to the well again. "_Come. We must locate the warlock and make good our escape before Jin'Loki realizes something is wrong." _Catwissa looked at the shard of glass again, turning it this way and that. "_What did he intend to do with this?"_

_ "It opens a portal," _Tal'Thera said quietly. "_I've seen him use one once before."_

_ "Good,"_ the troll said, tucking the glass inside her ragged clothing. "_With the tree dead, or at least, with it so terribly altered, I would not have been able to get us out of here." _She held the gemstone between her palms and pressed her fingertips to her forehead, closing her eyes. "_The power has been so badly tainted...I hope I can still...no, there we are."_

She reached out and touched the stone gently to the straps on Tal'Thera's head and they instantly fell slack around the mage's neck; the blood elf quickly pulled them off and threw them into the empty cell, shuddering.

"_Come on, I have a feeling I know where my master is," _Elervina said tersely, snapping her wings in tightly across her back.

Catwissa picked up the backpack and slung it over her shoulder, then grabbed Tal'Thera by the arm and began to follow the succubus back toward the prison area. Elervina led them through the hallways, pausing every so often to look into cells to check where they were, then she stopped and pointed at an apparently blank wall.

"_Here. She came through here, and another way opened here," _Elervina explained, now pointing to the opposite wall. "_This way are her private quarters, and this way is where I suspect she's keeping my master."_

_ "Can you sense where he is?"_

_ "No," _the succubus said, sounding instantly subdued. "_I can only tell if he is alive."_

_ "And is he?" _Tal'Thera asked timidly.

Elervina chuckled. "_If he wasn't, I would not be helping you as I would have no reason to. I'd be killing his tormentor then returning to the Great Dark Beyond." _She clasped a hand over her heart and closed her eyes. "_The ability to sense where one is at goes only one way with a warlock and his servants - my master is well aware of where I am at any given time, but I cannot do the same with him. I can only pick up on strong emotions, and I can hear his mental summons, but beyond that I am merely a servant waiting."_

_ "Then let's go look," _Catwissa said firmly, clenching the stone and gesturing sharply. The wall melted from view to reveal the hallway Elervina had seen Jin'Loki walk from earlier; the succubus strode forward with the other two following, but she paused in dismay when she exited the short hallway.

They were now in a massive cavern, and the cavern floor was dotted with raised platforms that bore an incredible collection of torture devices - some of them Elervina didn't have the faintest clue how they would even function with anything strapped into it. She instantly squashed the murderous anger she felt rising, and instead hurried out into the cavern to begin seeking her master, her gaze roaming over the closest torture devices. He wasn't in any of them, and so she moved out further into the cavern.

"_We need to hurry," _she said again, not looking as Catwissa and Tal'Thera filed out behind her and began to move in opposite directions.

Elervina was halfway across the cavern, moving in a more or less straight line, when Catwissa let out a yell.

"_Here, he is here!"_

Catwissa was standing near the edge of a pit, and when Elervina came closer she peered down to see Mikael curled into a ball at the bottom, seven feet down and laying on bare dirt. The troll jumped down with him, rolling the quivering human onto his side; Mikael's eyes were open and staring at nothing, and he had four or five bite marks on his arms and chest, along with a few scattered snakes coiled nearby. Catwissa quickly killed the serpents, then knelt beside him again and rolled him to his back.

"_What did they do to him?" _Elervina shouted down, turning to look behind them.

Catwissa peered into his face and saw nothing, then carefully touched fingers to the bite marks on his chest; they were bleeding, but also oozing a clear liquid. She sniffed her fingers, then licked the blood and liquid off them, then her eyes narrowed.

"_Poisoned, and no natural poison either," _Catwissa said grimly, glancing at the dead snakes. She pressed her hands flat to his chest and began to channel healing magic into him, targeting the poison that flowed through his veins and eradicating it. The marks disappeared and the human blinked once, twice, then sat up with a start; Catwissa quickly leaned back from the panicked human, then reached out steadying hands.

"It's okay, you're alive," she said quietly.

Mikael looked at her, breathing hard and shaking uncontrollably. "C-Catwissa? How...the snakes, there were-" he trailed off as he looked around, seeing just the two of them in the pit.

"An illusion, or a dream," Catwissa said, studying the fingers she'd licked. "There were some live snakes in here, but I killed them. How many did you see?"

"I was buried in them," he said, shuddering at the memory when his gaze few over the pile of dead serpents off to the side. "How are you here?"

"I believe your servant could better answer that, but save it for later. Jin'Loki will notice something amiss soon. How does your glass portal work?" she asked, pulling the shard free and holding it in front of him.

His eyes widened. "She found it! We need to..." he trailed off again, looking to the lip of the pit and seeing Tal'Thera staring down at him, hand to her mouth and tears sliding slowly down her face. "Tal'Thera, are you okay?" he asked in a rush, scrambling to his feet and moving like he meant to claw his way up to her.

She simply nodded, and behind Mikael Catwissa cleared her throat. "Mikael, our escape?"

"I uh...yes, yes," he said hastily, turning around. "Hand it here, one moment." He reached his hands - still manacled together - up toward Tal'Thera, motioning for her to join them in the pit. She carefully knelt and swung her legs over the edge, lowering herself bit by bit until she felt Mikael's hands sliding up her legs to her hips; with a squeak she let go of the edge and let him guide her feet to the ground.

Catwissa grabbed his shoulder and spun him around before he could do anything else; she touched the gemstone to his wrists and forehead, the manacles clattering to the floor and the straps going slack. Mikael yanked the straps off and tossed them aside, then kicked the manacles from his feet and grabbed the glass shard.

"What about your servant?" Catwissa asked, glancing up out of the pit, looking to where the succubus had been previously. There was no sign of her.

"She's busy," Mikael said tersely, grimacing a moment before focusing on the glass.

"Doing what?"

Mikael paused, a faint smile on his face that quickly turned grim. "What else? Distracting Jin'Loki."

* * *

Saliea was leading a protesting Pit by the front of his robes.

"_It's just a bonfire-"_

_ "Night elf, I am very combustible. I burst into flame if you dunk me into a bucket of water," _Pit growled, digging his heels in. "_Let go of me!"_

_ "Look, you can't see very well, right?"_

_ "Not at all, but I can feel heat and I see light and I'm NOT going anywhere near it-"_

_ "Are you hungry?"_

_ "Fire bad, fire very bad-"_

_ "Oh, would you stop it?" _she finally growled, letting go and whirling on him. "_Do you really think I'm about to toss you into the flames?"_

The blood elf straightened his robes and began to back up. "_No, not likely, but I'm not going anywhere near that bonfire, thanks."_

_ "You're a warlock."_

_ "Yes."_

_ "That's afraid of fire."_

_ "Yes."_

_ "Do you not see the problem with that?"_

Pit frowned at her. "_I use fire spells, yes. But those are controlled by me and sent in a direction opposite of myself, I've heard this argument before."_

She stuck her hands on her hips. "_Look, there's food on the far side, I was just going to lead you around to it. I can take a wider route if you want-" _she paused as Pit tripped and fell backwards, landing on his backside, sending his imp flying and his floating Eye of Kilrogg spell went haywire. "_-or I can just leave you here to make a fool of yourself."_

_ "So long as I'm not on fire I could care less," _he grumbled, climbing back to his feet. He plucked his imp off the ground and sat him back on his shoulder, then searched the ground around his feet. "_Where'd my damn eye go?"_

_ "Looks like over - wait, you can't tell where your own eye went?"_

Pit gestured and summoned the glowing Eye of Kilrogg back to his side. "_When your eyesight is mostly dark, and then more dark, yes, it IS rather hard to tell where such things might have ended up."_

_ "Look, do you trust me enough to keep you from bursting into flame?"_

The elf remained silent several long moments, then sighed heavily. "_I suppose that it is a silly notion, but when you've regrown your eyebrows twelve times you learn to exercise...caution."_

_ "I won't take you any closer than we are now, is that acceptable?"_

_ "...yes."_

Sal reached out and grabbed his elbow and began to guide him again, mentally cursing Jakani for once again stealing her husband away to talk. The trolls had lit a bonfire and set out a feast; it was like walking through a festival, being jostled by the crowd and greeted by trolls as she passed, trying to guide Pit and also keep an eye on Darae, the young night elf trailing along behind them.

She wished she knew what all of this was about, but the trolls either told her Jakani would explain, or outright ignored her requests and urged her to join in their celebration. An explanation of WHAT they were celebrating would be nice, but all she had was the single statement uttered by their guide 'for leaving home' as the reason for the revelry. She couldn't begin to imagine why leaving their home was a reason for excitement...but, it looks like she would have to wait until Jakani decided to reveal everything.

* * *

Sevei settled onto a brightly-colored woven rug in the room beyond the curtain, a small basin of water and a covered brazier between himself and Jakani.

"What do you require of me?" he asked quietly.

Jakani tucked his feet beneath him and leaned forward, chuckling and gesturing at the water. "In da water, we see ourselves. Not only our reflections, but da future as well. Water always be flowin' like da future. It, like us, either changes to match da environment it be in, or it can become a destructive force dat bends da environment to its will. It brings clarity to da mind, and it be sometin no one can live long witout. I can sense ya strong tie ta water, young shaman. It was the one who spoke for ya, and witout it ya would have been allowed ta die. But I can sense ya other ties too. Ya have the earth within ya, guiding ya heart to do wat be best, and givin' ya da strength ya need to accomplish ya goals. I feel da fire burnin' within ya, colorin ya passions and givin' ya da courage. I feel da wind, liftin' ya spirit and ya body, easin' ya burdens. Ya be a very young shaman, and a disadvantaged one at dat, but ya got potential."

Jakani dipped his fingers into the water, swirling it around. "I know da story of ya people, draenei. Ya race be young in the path of shamanism. The knowledge of shamanism comes not only from da guidance of da spirits, but from the sum of the knowledge of one's ancestors. I know ya story, draenei. Ya ancestors are scattered across worlds countless - proud in dere sacrifice dat allowed der prodigy ta survive, but alone and unable ta reach ya across the darkness that stretches between da worlds. Ya be at a disadvantage of knowledge because ya have no ancestors to lend voices to ya."

Sevei had been watching Jakani's fingers in the water, and was beginning to feel sleepy and calm - he was slipping into a trance, something he imagined was purposeful on Jakani's part - and as his mind relaxed further he began to sense a rising of power.

"I tell ya now, shaman. I won't be needin' ya to help me find me daughter. She is comin' back ta me on her own, da spirits have told me this. But I will need ya help to destroy a greater evil den Jin'Loki...because dis be me askin' for help for a reason other den wat I brought ya here for in da first place, I will reward ya now because it gonna be more dangerous den I had originally imagined."

Jakani reached across the basin of water and pulled Sevei's hand toward him; Sevei didn't even feel the bite of the dagger as it slid across his bared forearm, his chin was slumping to his chest as the trance began to take him fully.

Jakani took the same dagger and made an identical cut in his own arm, then turned their wrists so their blood ran down their fingers and mingled before dropping into the basin. Now the troll uncovered the brazier, revealing the tiny flame within, and sprinkled water into the fire; the flame blazed a bright white briefly, then began to release an incredible amount of scentless smoke.

The smoke began to twist and separate into separate puffs, then separate further and coil in on itself, forming a multitude of shapes that were beginning to take on vague humanoid forms.

"A spillin' of blood together makes us brudders," Jakani said, closing his eyes and leaning back.

"Because ya got no ancestral family of ya own, I wanna introduce ya ta mine."


	19. Chapter 19

"Wat be dis, Jakani?" the first ancestor to come fully into view grumbled. It was a male troll with massive tusks, bald, and as he came more into focus one could tell his face was wildly tattooed in white and green stripes. "Ya be pickin' up anudder stray?"

Sevei blinked and seemed to come instantly alert, though he was aware he was simply fully into the trance Jakani had placed him in and was merely reacting to falling into it fully; he looked around curiously at the spectral trolls around them - the room they were in was full of them - then he looked down to examine the cut across his forearm.

Jakani across from him chuckled. "Ah, ya know I like to collect dem. Dis be Sevei."

The trolls were studying him, various degrees of curiosity on their ghostly faces. The male that had spoken first blew out a sigh that ruffled Sevei's hair. "Why ya gotta do dat, mon? How many of ya do ya be expectin' us ta take care of?"

A female next to him smacked him smartly across the back of his head; she smiled down at Sevei, revealing her tiny set of tusks, then ran her hands through her wild purple mohawk. "Don't ya be mindin' him, youngin' cuz he don't be speakin' fer da rest o' us. Ya be one o' dose...dran eyes?"

Sevei nodded, and the troll ancestors whispered among themselves in their own tongue; the female floated down next to him, reaching out to rest her hand against his cheek. Instantly his skin grew cold at the touch, but he didn't flinch away.

She smiled at him. "We know of ya. I see why my bonehead grandson spilled ya blood ta call us to ya, mon. He aways was one ta build da biggest family he could."

She removed her hand and Sevei carefully rubbed feeling back into his cheek. "I'm afraid I am a bit lost. What required the spilling of blood to call you here?"

"See? He don' know nuttin!" the first male said, slapping a hand across his knees and pointing. "We don' gotta teach every empty head-"

A male sitting to his left - bald and with a broken tusk - and a female sitting to his right - two thick green braids hanging over her shoulders - simultaneously slapped the green-and-white tattooed speaker. "Ya be shuttin' up now," the female added, the broken-tusked male grunting his agreement.

"Here be wat Jakani did, mon," the purple-haired female said, floating low enough so it seemed to Sevei that she was sitting right at his side.

She gestured at the water basin and at the brazier. "He took ya guidin' element, da water, and placed his blood and yer blood in it. Dis was da catalyst, da base. Den he take da fire, built wit wood from da sacred tree, and he add both ya essences to it along wit da guidin' element. Dis way, ya see us and we see ya, mon. Udderwise Jakani'd be holdin' wat look ta ya ta be a one-sided conversation - da blood was necessary ta tie ya inta da spell, and it tie ya closer den ya tink as well."

The broken-tusk male cleared his throat and took up the thread of the conversation. "Ancestors can only be seen by dere family usually. Dere be some powerful mojo dat'll let someone call any spirit dey want, but dat be a mix of findin' da spirit and den overcomin' da spirit's will. If da spirit no wanna talk ta ya, den ya gotta force da issue...but in dis case, mon, ya not forcin' anyting. It wasn't ya who be castin' da spell, so for ya ta see us Jakani had ta make ya family."

Sevei blinked at that. "Family?"

The mohawked female nodded. "Ya mon. It be tradition in our bloodline, dat da spillin' o' blood together make ya brudders. We be bound by tradition in death like we were in life...tradition all ya got wen ya dead mon," she laughed. "Witout it we got no empty head youngins ta watch out fer, cuz no one would be listenin!"

Jakani held a hand to his mouth and, in a loud staged whisper, gestured to the spirits hanging around them. "It be more complicated den dat, but dey're being nice to ya."

"He don't gotta learn nuttin we ain't ready ta teach," the green-white tattooed male spoke up again, grumpily. "He should be grateful we even be talkin' to him."

"Go on den, give it to him," the broken-tusk urged.

Jakani reached within his robes and pulled out a leather thong with a cloth pouch dangling from it. He dipped it briefly into the basin of water, then pressed it into Sevei's hand.

"What's this?" Sevei asked quietly, feeling a brief hint of power burning within it.

"Dat be a small pinch of our ashes," the broken-tusk explained. "Wit it, and wit da addition of ya blood and Jakani's blood ta seal it, ya be family now. Wen ya leave dis room, dere be only one way for ya ta speak ta us again. Ya hold dat, ya tink of us, and we come."

Sevei closed his hand slowly around the little satchel of ashes - it was barely the size of the first knuckle of his thumb - and then stared at his clenched fist. This was a little much to take in all at one time, but there _was _something he knew needed asking more than anything else.

"Why have you given me this gift?" he asked softly, looking up at Jakani. And it was a gift, he realized - it was a very valuable gift, the gift of knowledge that no other shaman of his race would ever have access to.

Jakani inhaled deeply, then released his breath slowly. "I know I told ya I'd need ya help ta find me daughter. I don't need dat help anymore, as she be returnin' to me on her own. Ya task ta earn da life granted to ya remains the same, but da danger involved has increased a hundredfold. At first, I was tinking that just killin' Jin'Loki would solve da problem, but me visions have shown me it be much worse den dat. Killin' her won't be enough, dere be sometin' else amiss. We gotta destroy her source o' power. Such power in da wrong hands not be good for da world."

"And you fear I may be slain."

"Killin' Jin'Loki would have been difficult. Killin' her while tryin' ta destroy her power will be even more so. We both may be slain tryin."

Sevei bowed his head, breathing deeply and slowly to center himself, then looked up at all the spirits floating silently around them. "I have wondered about the day I would be required to earn my life, so do not think this cowardice or otherwise, but...my wife. The boy. What of them? I cannot...I will not leave them alone."

"And I bet she won' be leavin' ya ta do dis on ya own, either," Jakani said dryly, scratching at his neck idly. "I will offer her a place o' safety here, as well as da boy, da warrior, and da blood elf. But, if me guesses 'bout dem be correct, den dey gonna be comin' with us."

Sevei was already shaking his head. "No. No, my wife carries our child - as you very well know," he said, pointedly looking directly at Jakani. "You brought us here to keep her out of Jin'Loki's reach, but even now you say you know that she will want to come with us, and _I _know her better than anyone and can _confirm _that she will refuse to remain here. How can you place my wife and child in danger?" he said, anger beginning to color his voice.

Jakani sighed heavily. "I know mon, I know. I don' want da druid and da babe she carries ta be in any danger, but neither can I restrain her here right? Dat would be a cruel ting, especially if ya DO end up dyin. And dat student o' hers can't be left on his own, among strangers, either...and no restrainin' will be possible on dat warrior," he added grimly, eyes growing unfocused for a brief moment. "Da best we can do is quickly eliminate da threat of Jin'Loki, den da power, den we all run like dere's no tomorra."

"I do not want my wife in danger," Sevei said softly. "I don't know what I'd do with myself should I walk away from this, and she does not. I'd never forgive myself for failing to protect her."

"Den we don' fail," Jakani said. "Cuz if we do, it ain't gonna be just her dat dies...da entire world may be seein' an onslaught o' darkness."

"Who is Jin'Loki? What power does she hold?"

"Jin'Loki was once a member o' dis tribe. She be an unstable girl, from birth she was wrong. It be no wonder why evil laid claim ta her soul as easily as it did...I feel perhaps she has someone guidin' here – she would not be smart enough ta get this power on her own. I tink she has a master, somewhere...someting must be givin' her this power."

Jakani stood, groaning softly. "Now den. Tonight be da Feast of da Scatterin' of da Word. Go find ya wife, ya student. Get acquainted, go eat and den rest well. Tomorra we got work ta do."

"Have you found the anchoring tree, for the other cavern?" Sevei asked, spinning around as the troll walked through the assembled spirits toward the door.

Jakani paused, looking over his shoulder at the draenei with a mischievous grin on his face. "I don' need ta, not anymore. Me girl, she know where it be. She be comin' home."

With that the troll disappeared from the room, leaving Sevei alone with the gathering of troll ancestors; he turned back around slowly, clenching and unclenching his fist around the satchel, staring at the floor in front of him.

"Lot ta take in, ain't it?" the mohawked female said softly, smiling. "Ya not da first Jakani has tied ta da bloodline. Dere's a few tauren, an' a orc or two, dat we guide. He got a habit o' collectin' family members, whedder dey be his own race or not."

"Damn annoyin' wat it be," the green-tattooed male grumbled. "We got enuff ta worry about witout addin' udders to it all. Dey not of da blood, dey not of da family."

Sevei looked up at them all, shaking his head. "You're rather accepting of this, and the explanation of Jakani collecting...family members...hardly covers it. There must be another reason."

"We got a smart one dere," the broken-tusk male chuckled. "Me name be Plaki. Dat be Olani," he said, pointing to the mohawked female. "And dat loudmouth dere be Huk," he added, pointing now to the tattooed male. "And ya be right, shaman. Jakani had anudder reason fer tyin' ya to us."

"My great great...great...uh...hell, I don' even remember da generation anymore, but Jakani, he be me grandson wit' a ton o' greats in front of it, and I can tell ya, he didn't do dis completely out of da kindness of his heart," Olani said, resting her chin in her hand.

"Jakani has a habit o' collectin' strays," Plaki went on. "He latch on to da ones dat got no family, been severed from it in sum way. Dose he finds, he bring ta us, and he teach dem."

"We seen moocow, orcs. Udder trolls from udder tribes. He teach dem da way of da spirits," Huk growled. "He not doin' dis for you, he doin' it so even should he die he can still continue ta teach."

"Sounds selfish when put dat way, but dere ya have it," Olani sighed. "He wants ta teach ya, and so he's makin' it so he can."

By now Sevei looked truly alarmed. "You mean he believes he'll be killed? And he wants to drag my family into this?"

Olani thumped him between the eyes with one ghostly finger, laughing loudly. "Listen ta ya! Look at dat troll! He older dan da dirt ya be sittin' on!"

"Of course he tinks he gonna die," Plaki chuckled. "He really old mon, older dan any of us were when we croaked." The male leaned closer, a resigned look on his face. "Look mon. Ya know why he did it, and ya know it not exactly for wat he told ya it was for. But. Just like ya can talk to Jakani wen he gone, ya can talk to us now too."

"Don' always be expectin' an answer," Huk snapped, shaking a finger at the draenei. "We not so bored we plan on runnin' ta ya every call. Part o' learnin' be learnin' da hard way, as in ya figger it out for yaself."

Olani frowned and cuffed Huk, then shoved him back into the floating group of silent ancestors. "Oh shaddup, ya grumpy ass," she growled. "He be right, but he coulda put it more nice dan dat. But ya mon, don' expect us ta baby ya. Ya can ask wat ya ask, but unnerstand we ain't always gonna answer, especially if da answer be right in front o' ya."

"Now den," Plaki interrupted. "Ya got a wife ta get back to, and ya need sum rest for ya task tomorra. So!" Plaki grinned and clapped his hands, and in the spanse of a blink Sevei snapped out of the trance and the spectral trolls disappeared.

'Remember shaman, keep dat satchel,' whispered through his mind, but whether it was Plaki or Huk he couldn't be certain. Regardless, Sevei sat in the silence for several minutes, watching as the brazier's flame burned down to smoldering embers.

His stomach was a knotted mess as he thought about the danger he'd been warned about, and the knowledge that he would be taking his wife and child into such a danger made him ill; he didn't fear for his own life, but the thought of losing Saliea and their baby was terrifying to the point that for a moment it was all he could do to breathe. He didn't dare ask her to remain behind - now that she knew he had sent her away in his final moments back in Terokkar, there was little chance now of him convincing her to leave his side.

Jakani had said the only true way to safeguard them would be to succeed at their task. Sevei would make certain they did, even if it meant his own death in the process.

* * *

Mikael was attempting to focus his mind on Saliea, or on Moonglade, or really on anything other than the place they were at currently, but Elervina's pain was echoing through their bond back to him and disrupting his thoughts.

'Dismissed! Go!' he ordered through the bond, but the succubus was for whatever reason clinging to this plane. 'Elervina, just go!'

A feeling like a question hit him, then he could almost picture the succubus frantically gesturing to him. She wanted his attention, but why? He didn't have the time for this!

But she wasn't going to go until he saw what she wished him to see; closing his eyes he sought their bond and traveled through it, finding Elervina locked in combat with Jin'Loki. The troll was badly overpowering his servant, and with his consciousness hovering this close to the demon he felt it like it was his own. Elervina felt his mental closeness and opened her mind, and now he was nearly seeing the fight as though he stood directly behind her.

And he saw what she was frantically trying to draw his attention to.

Jin'Loki fought like a madwoman, not so much trying to kill the succubus as trying to get passed her, and Elervina was doing whatever she could to block the passage and keep the troll from getting through to Mikael and the others. But behind the troll was what Elervina was trying to show him.

A pair of disembodied eyes, brilliant blue, hung over the troll and silently observed...and what disturbed him the most is he _knew _those eyes. He had seen them before, had mistaken them for his own twisted visage in the recesses of his own mind. It hadn't been him after all!

'You!'

The eyes shifted their gaze, and while Mikael knew there was nothing of himself there for them to see, he knew they sensed his presence now, and they seemed to widen in surprise, then rapidly began to retreat.

'No you don't!'

Mikael struggled after that presence, chained to Elervina's immediate consciousness and thus unable to pursue the retreating eyes.

'Damn it! DAMN IT!'

* * *

"_What is wrong with him?" _Catwissa whispered, looking from Mikael to up out of the pit. The human had a vacant look on his face, staring at the floor. "_Why does he not cast his spell?"_

_ "I - I don't know," _Tal'Thera replied, gently shaking Mikael's shoulder. "_Mikael? What is it? What's wrong?"_

_ "How does the spell work?" _Catwissa asked then, again glancing nervously up to the top edge of the pit.

"_I'm not sure. I've seen him use it only once before. He...he said a name, a place, then he broke the glass."_

_ "We cannot waste time," _the troll said grimly, prying the warlock's fingers off the glass and taking it in her own hands. "_I wish to go home, to my father, and even if this magic cannot take us there, anywhere but here would be preferable."_

Catwissa held the glass to her chest a moment, then let it drop to the floor at their feet. Instantly a glowing portal appeared scant inches away; the troll grabbed Mikael's arm and pulled the stumbling, unaware human along with her and shoved him ahead of her through the portal. Tal'Thera stepped through next, and Catwissa looked up one more time out of the pit before shouldering the warlock's backpack and leaping through herself.

The troll nearly tripped over the blood elf on the other side of the portal, and once Catwissa appeared the mage set about closing the magical gateway. When the brilliance of the portal faded, they found themselves blinking to adjust to the gloom.

"_Where are we?" _Tal'Thera asked.

_"Home," _Catwissa said, grinning hugely as the room was suddenly flooded with firelight as torches lining the walls flared to life.

They were in a roughly rectangular room,very open and roomy, the walls and floor plain dirt covered in brightly woven carpets and wall hangings with roots visible in between the fabrics. The torchlight revealed a single doorway to their left, and standing in that doorway was an ancient-looking troll in robes and a headdress.

"_Papa," _Catwissa sighed, rushing to him and getting pulled into a hug.

_"Dere's me girl," _Jakani chuckled, stroking her hair. "_I knew ya be comin' back."_

Tal'Thera stayed where she was, kneeling on the floor beside Mikael's prone body, his head resting in her lap. He was breathing, he was blinking, but he hadn't stirred; she was relieved to be in what appeared to be a place of safety, but now she was worried about her warlock.

"_Now den," _Jakani finally said, looking over Catwissa's head at Tal'Thera. "_I want ya ta go wit' me girl and get cleaned up, get any hurts healed. I gotta be talkin' to ya human dere."_

_ "What's wrong with him?" _Tal'Thera blurted out, remaining where she was.

"_He be chasin' nightmares," _the old troll answered. "_Give 'im a moment, he come back, I promise. Ya go now, eat, get cleaned. Ya be back wit' him soon."_

Catwissa dropped the backpack and leaned it against the wall, then had to come over and pull Tal'Thera to her feet then lead the blood elf from the room, going through the doorway Jakani had been standing in moments before.

Jakani settled into a sitting position next to Mikael and began to count on his fingers. "_Tree...two...one..."_

* * *

Mikael slammed back into his body as Elervina finally let go and sat upright snarling. "DAMN IT!"

_"Hi."_

He jumped at the voice, turning to see the oldest troll he'd ever seen sitting by him. "_...hello?"_

_ "Welcome to da wakin' world, warlock," _the troll said, smiling. "_Need any patchin' up?"_

_ "Who are you and where is Tal'Thera?"_

_ "I see where ya heart lay," _the troll chuckled. "_I be Jakani. Ya blood elf be wit' me Catwissa in da udder room. I wanted ta talk to ya a moment."_

_ "Talk all you want, I've something to attend to," _Mikael said_, _pushing himself to his feet and summoning as rapidly as he could.

Elervina appeared, as she would always answer Mikael's call, and Mikael had to rush to catch her as she slumped to the floor.

"Oh Elervina...why_?" _he whispered, pulling her close.

The succubus was badly mangled - gashes crossed her arms and stomach, her wings had long tears in them, and her left eye was swollen shut. She swallowed and smiled weakly, laying limp in his arms.

"All this time...all I had to do was...get the life beat out of me, to gain...entrance to your arms," she whispered faintly.

"You should have - you shouldn't have tried showing me that," he said sharply. "You should have just gone when I dismissed you."

"I know what bothers you, master," Elervina said, closing her eyes and weakly snuggling into his chest. "You fear what you...could someday become. I wanted to show you that...what you feared wasn't you, but something else. You needed to know. Someone is...keeping a close eye on you."

"It wasn't worth this," Mikael said softly, brushing blood-stained hair out of her eyes. He looked up at Jakani then. "Can you do anything for her?"

"Was wonderin' when ya would ask, mon," Jakani said, pushing his sleeves back. "Let ol' Jakani have a look dere."

Hands glowing, the old troll slowly began to patch the succubus up, sealing tears and soothing bruises and cuts. Jakani was actually sweating when he finally sat back on his haunches, but Elervina was sliding out of Mikael's arms and standing up, flexing newly-healed wings and looking at her torn leather bodice, frowning.

"Thanks," she said shortly, poking a finger through a large hole. "Too bad you couldn't mend the clothing."

"Not my specialty," Jakani chuckled. "I mend da flesh, not da cloth...or da soul," he added quietly, looking at Mikael. "Ya be okay dere, human?"

"I'm fine," Mikael said bluntly. "I want to see Tal'Thera."

Jakani reached out and lightly touched a finger to Mikael's forearm. Instantly the warlock's mind was flooded with memories of nightmares upon nightmares; he was back in the snake pit, sinking beneath the writhing mass of bodies even as they bit him over and over. He was back in his childhood home, watching this time as the demented form of Datavian brutally murdered his mother – never mind that Mikael had not actually seen the crime, so truthfully had no proof that Datavian had even done it with his own hands, it was enough that Mikael could now see it in his mind's eye. Now he was in Nagrand laughing as, instead of being possessed, he stood at Drasai's side as an equal and watched as his friends were slaughtered and he joined the eredar in drinking the warm blood of slain innocents as demonically-corrupted corpses lay broken and twisted at their feet.

And now he was in Silvermoon, helpless in the floor on his back, watching the serpent-creatures devour Logane, Meriwend, Lor'themar, countless others, and then slinking passed Mikael's paralyzed form to tear apart his mage-

Jakani expertly ducked beneath the wildly-swung fist Mikael leveled at him.

"What - how - how _dare _you-" Mikael snarled, going to clench his fists and finding his entire body was shaking. Everything Mikael had been carefully ignoring in his need to escape, to get them all to safety, the troll had just dragged back to the surface and essentially rubbed his nose in it. The overwhelming urge to crawl into a corner fought with the urge to pummel the troll for having so casually forced the nightmares to resurface.

Jakani watched as the warlock shook and sputtered. "I dare, because ya need ta look it in da eye and deny it," he said firmly. "I know Jin'Loki. She attack ya where ya be most vulnerable, she do wat she can ta cause ya da most pain possible. Da only way ta forget, ta never see it again, is ta deny it. It not real. It didn't happen, it won't be happenin."

Mikael ground his teeth together and dropped his gaze to his lap, fuming, only to notice the reddened, chapped markings on his wrists where the manacles had been. They itched like a bad sunburn, and with that itch came the muscle memory of the whip biting into his back and involuntarily he flinched, shuddering.

Jakani reached forward and gently drew a finger over the marks, erasing them as though they had never been there. "Dese too fade, like da nightmare when ya wake up. I can be healin' da flesh, but healin' of da soul come from within. Just remember...it not be real."

Mikael only glared. "I could have _easily _forgotten it had you not just...brought it all up again," he growled.

"Just like ya be forgettin' da guilt over ya brudder?"

That comment stung and Mikael tried to keep it from showing on his face.

Jakani raised an eyebrow after several moments of silence, then chuckled softly. "Da only way ta heal some wounds is ta open dem up and let all da nasty stuff bleed out. Don' let it be festerin or it'll leave scars dat never fade."

The troll climbed to his feet, stretching and sighing happily as his back popped audibly several times. "Well den. I gonna budge dese old bones back ta me room. Me girl should be done tendin' ta ya blood elf. Ya sleep easy here tonight. Nuttin' can get ya while ya be here in me home, as dere be only one way into dis room."

Jakani tapped a foot on an upraised tree root in the floor. "Ya trust me, mon. Ya be safe here. Bed be in da udder room." He gestured to the corner behind him, where on a squat table a basin of water and clean cloths sat, along with what looked like a folded set of clothing. "If ya feel like sleepin' clean."

With that the troll turned and strolled through the doorway, coming into another room about the same size as the first and decorated in the same manner except for the massive, bulging root that took up part of the far left corner and a pile of blankets and pillows in the opposite corner.

Catwissa and Tal'Thera were both kneeling over a large basin of dirty water, both bearing the look of having just freshly scrubbed themselves; Tal'Thera blushed deeply and quickly finished fastening the belt to the robe she wore.

Catwissa fastened her own robes and then bent over the basin, gathering up her rags and Tal'Thera's torn and discarded robes. "I'll get rid o' dese, they're not useful to anyone anymore." She tossed them in the basin of water along with the cloths they had used to clean themselves and a bar of hard soap, then hefted the basin and stood.

"Ya sure you're not hungry?"

Tal'Thera tilted her head, looking politely puzzled. Catwissa laughed, slapping her own forehead and switching back into Orcish.

"_Sorry. Ya sure you're not hungry?"_

_ "Oh, no. I don't feel I can eat just yet," _Tal'Thera said with a small smile. "_My stomach is rather...clenched, after everything that has happened."_

_ "All right den. There's no way out of this room, so there's no way INTO this room either. You can sleep here without fear, and you won't be disturbed."_

Tal'Thera glanced up at the doorway, then briefly at Jakani before turning back to Catwissa. "_Mikael is...?"_

_ "Mikael be in da udder room," _Jakani said. "_Right now we be leavin' ya be. Rest up some. Tomorra we gonna make Jin'Loki pay for all da pain she causin' us."_

The two trolls walked right at the root protruding from the wall, and then melted _into _the wood and disappeared from view. Tal'Thera stayed huddled where she was in the middle of the floor, trying to unknot her stomach; the robes she wore were plain brown cloth, soft and comfortable, and she took comfort in just snuggling into the fabric, telling herself over and over that they were safe.

A moment later and she was standing, silently padding on bare feet across the brilliant carpets to the doorway, peeking in.

Mikael was sitting on his haunches, his back to her, in the corner in front of a table, shirtless as he had been when they came through the portal. The tattoo running the length of his spine shined brightly in the darkened room, much brighter than the torchlight, and she could see streams of dried blood crisscrossing his back...and could also see faint scarring that ran perpendicular to the blood; in one hand he held a dripping cloth, his other gripping the edge of the table, and as she watched he halfheartedly rubbed at dirt and blood on one bare arm before angrily throwing the cloth into the water and grasping at his head as though it hurt.

She nearly rushed forward but then paused and watched as he slowly lowered his head to the table, resting his forehead against the wood and letting his hands drop limply to his sides. After several moments of silence he finally rested his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands and sat there, motionless.

Very slowly Tal'Thera came up behind him and reached around him; he jumped, startled, as she grabbed the cloth from the water and wrung it out. Without a word she began to gently wipe away the blood on his back, content to wait and let him speak first.

She had worked her way down to his waistband when he finally cleared his throat.

"_Are you all right?"_

_ "I'm fine," _she replied, reaching passed him again to drop the cloth into the water. "_Are...are you all right?"_

_ "I...will be," _he said after a moment. He turned around and sat on the floor with his elbows resting on spread knees and looked at her, and she could see how tired he looked, and how haunted.

She rested a hand on his cheek and he reached up to cover her hand with his.

"_You should rest," _he said quietly.

"_So should you."_

_ "I don't think I'll be sleeping tonight," _he chuckled grimly. "_I don't think I'll be sleeping again, ever."_

_ "You don't mean that," _she chided him, retrieving the cloth and wringing it out, then beginning to clean to his face.

He let her without complaint, staring at some indistinct point above her head; when she finished she took his face in her eyes and forced him to look at her.

"_Answer me truthfully, Mikael..." _she started. "_What spell have you placed on me?"_

He blinked, slowly, several times then cleared his throat. "_Several years ago I was possessed by a vengeful eredar. During the possession our memories intermingled, and he ended up dying with some of mine, and I lived with some of his still remaining in my mind. The spell is a remnant...I knew about what it was supposed to do, and how to cast it, but...the actual affects I couldn't have been certain about."_

_ "What was the spell?"_

_ "It was a spell of protection, meant for a master to cast upon a slave. The slave had a tiny, miniscule piece of its soul split off and placed into the master, and this piece of soul would suffer any harm that may befall the master. I...placed myself in the slave's place."_

Tal'Thera wondered if she looked as terrified as she felt. "_But...if...what if she had killed me!"_

Mikael shrugged. "_It may or may not have killed me. I don't possess the memory of how it works."_

"_How can you be so _calm _about that?" _she sputtered. "_This is your life we're speaking of! Take it off me at once! I won't...I won't be the cause of your death," _she whispered. She let herself lean forward, sliding in between his legs and wrapping arms around his waist, pressing her face in against his bare chest. "_Remove it...please..."_

_ "I can't."_

She looked up at him to see that he was once again staring off at some undetermined point. "_Why? Do you not remember how?"_

_ "No. I remember how...I just can't. I won't."_

_ "Why?"_

Now he let his gaze slide down to her; she felt a hand slide around her, and felt fingers stroking her hair. "_I swore I'd protect you, I intend to do that."_

_ "I'm not worth your life!"_

_ "That's not your decision, is it?" _Mikael replied, smiling faintly. "_I'm to make Jin'Loki pay for hunting you, for kidnapping you and trying to hurt you."_

Tal'Thera stared; the haunted, tired look in his eyes had hardened to something else. Determination. Anger.

"_Do you remember," _she started, swallowing then pressing her face to his chest again. "_Do you remember when I wanted you to promise me not to die for my sake?"_

_ "I do."_

_ "Do you remember what you promised instead?"_

"..._I do."_

A gentle hand came under her chin and tipped her face up; she briefly saw his face before he kissed her. When they broke apart he stroked her hair again, looking into her eyes.

"_If you die, you can't keep that promise," _she whispered.

"_I promise you, Tal, I won't die."_

He came up on his knees, wrapping an arm around her back and slipping his other under her legs, easily standing up and cradling her against his chest. Silently he carried her into the other room, pausing only long enough to locate the pillows and blankets in the corner, then heading over to them and depositing the blood elf gently in their midst before laying down on his side beside her.

She stretched out and let him draw her into an embrace, tucking her head beneath his chin and closing her eyes.

_"Go ahead and sleep," _she heard him murmur. "_I will personally kill anyone who comes into this room that isn't Jakani."_

_ "I liked it...when you called me Tal," _she yawned.

He shifted, and then she felt him tucking a light blanket around the two of them. "_Then, good night Tal. Sleep well."_

* * *

The trolls were boisterous and friendly, dancing to music produced by drums and flutes around their bonfire; Saliea watched it all from her comfortable place in Sevei's lap, both of them curled up just beyond the fire's glow. Darae had been roped into trying to dance by several of the younger females and both of them laughed as they watched the boy cavorting around, glad to see him smiling.

Pit had also fallen prey to the troll females. Saliea and the blood elf had once again begun sniping at each other over the proximity of the fire and the blood elf's paranoia toward it. The trolls had interrupted the not-quite-an-argument and had surrounded him, bombarding him with promises of a surprise if he came with them. Saliea had watched in amusement as they had pulled the protesting male away with them.

_"You're just going to let them drag me off?!"_

_ "You're the one who said you can take care of yourself," _Saliea had replied blandly. "_They're your problem, not mine."_

She hadn't seen him since then, but she wasn't worried. For now she simply enjoyed her husband's company and the antics of the trolls, wondering what else could possibly happen and wondering too how it would effect her and her family.

"Such celebration seems distinctly out of place."

Both Sevei and Saliea turned as Pathora settled into a cross-legged position nearby.

"It is as though they don't care that there is a pressing danger closing in on us."

"They won't talk to us about it," Sevei said, rubbing his cheek on top of Saliea's head. "There is little point in asking. All will be revealed when it is deemed the correct time."

"While we wait for everything to be revealed, the problems could be growing worse," Pathora said tersely. "We do not know what is happening in the Dream."

"Jakani knows more than he is letting on," Saliea sighed. "We are, sadly, at his mercy when it comes to both our safety and our knowledge regarding everything. He has told us he'll tell us what is going on, and I believe him...and besides, we cannot do anything for anyone in the Dream right now," she added. "From what you described it would either mean death or something worse if someone tries to force their way in or out."

Pathora dropped his chin to his chest, growling. "Yes. Well. For green dragons anyway. Loganaar seemed fine when we went."

"But you felt like you were being torn apart," Saliea pointed out. "Your ties to the dragons prevents you from doing anything rash, at the least."

She felt that, had he not been wearing that blindfold, he would have been glaring at her just then and she chuckled. "You'll burn a hole through that if you stare any harder."

"You have no idea," the warrior muttered.

They were interrupted as Pit suddenly lunged out of the darkness, clutching something to his chest and humming merrily. He flopped down to the ground next to them.

"_Today is a good day," _the blood elf declared, turning to look at Saliea with a grin.

He was wearing a pair of multi-lensed goggles, made of black leather with green glass and darkened bronze metals; he reached up and independently adjusted each eye, then dropped his hands into his lap on top of what Sal could now see was a heavy leather case. Tenderly the blood elf ran his hands over the leather and the stitching, grinning. "_The trolls took me out to the Barrens, and I found my things! It took, oh, a good forty trees or so to find the right one - a very, ah, _weird _and unbalancing way to travel - but I found it! I can see again!"_

She smiled at him. "_That's good to hear, at least. What is in the bag though? Looks heavy."_

_ "Um. Things. My hobby," _Pit replied, suddenly very interested in looking anywhere other than at her.

"_...what sort of things?" _the druid asked suspiciously.

_ "Oh, you know. Things. Powders...tubing...triggers...uh, might be some - well, you know. Things. Odd and ends."_

_ "...Pit. Do I smell gunpowder?" _she asked slowly, eyes narrowing.

"_Maybe?"_

Sevei gently nudged her then, and pointed toward the bonfire. "It seems it is time for us to learn something."

Saliea turned from Pit in time to see Jakani striding through the trolls, clad in brilliant red robes that blended in with the fire behind him. He had on a simple headdress of leather braids with feathers and beads, and carried a giant staff made of straight, pale wood, topped with a bird's claw holding a brilliant blue gem. All the music stopped and quiet radiated through the crowd until the only sound was the crackle of the fire, and once Jakani was certain all eyes were on him he raised his hands high and began to speak.

Pit scooted closer, leaning in.

"_He's talking in Zandali," _he said. "_Do you understand it?"_

_ "Not at all," _Saliea whispered back. "_Do you?"_

_ "Yes. He's saying...'my great and wonderful children, my family of the Path. Tonight your chieftain speaks. Evil has descended and means to destroy the One's word and rid us of the true Path. Already the Hidden and the Fate Speakers have fallen prey to it."_

_ "Your chieftain is going to war, and he asks of you one thing: scatter like seeds on the wind. Find fertile ground, plant, and grow. Your chieftain will call you home when the evil is vanquished, but the word must live on. Go, scatter, and stay true to the Path."_

A quiet murmuring was spreading through the gathered trolls as Saliea quickly translated for the others, Darae having returned to them when everything had gone quiet. Jakani disappeared through the crowd, and now the trolls began to disperse toward their tents.

"Seems the party is over," Saliea said, standing, then nearly falling over as the female that had been serving as their guide suddenly appeared at her elbow.

"Now ya know," the female said, smiling. "I can answer any questions ya might have."

"Why?" Sevei asked simply, still sitting on the ground.

"We be so few now, now dat two groups are gone," she replied. "Witout da chieftain here, we are less protected all in one place. If we scatter, even if da chieftain be killed, the Path shall live on in da rest of us, and one day, we'll return here when a new chieftain has risen."

"How protected is 'less protected?'" Saliea asked warily.

The troll smiled at them. "Well, our chieftain is tied to da life of da tree. Because o' dat, he knows exactly who be comin' and goin' and when dey come and go. It be his will dat protects us from any attempt o' Jin'Loki's ta get back in here. Wen Jakani gone, so too be dat protection...if Jin'Loki find a way in here, dere won't be anyone who'll be able ta stop her." She gestured at all the trolls leaving, heading to the tents, some cleaning up the remains of the feast and extinguishing the bonfires. "Dis celebration will prolly be da last time a lot o' families and friends see one anudder. It may take a month, it may take a decade, before a new chieftain rises ta power and calls us back. In dat time, people change. So we say our goodbyes now, and we scatter into da world ta preserve da word of our goddess and da Path. Like seeds on da wind."

She gestured and began to lead them back toward the tents they were staying in, even though each of them knew the way back.

"Don' be surprised in da mornin'," was all the female said before she left them to separate into their tents and sleep.

* * *

When Tal'Thera awoke she experienced a brief moment of panic when she realized that Mikael was no longer at her side, but calmed when she could still feel the warmth of his body in the blankets beside her. He had gotten up, but it hadn't been long ago.

She sat up, robes slipping loosely down her shoulders, then stretched. Her neck and back both popped in several places as she moved, and self-consciously she pulled her robes on straight when Mikael's head suddenly appeared in the doorway.

"_Sleep well?"_

_ "I did," _she replied, smiling.

He came into the room then, fully dressed in his armor with a crimson _something _folded over one arm - an article of clothing of some sort, with brief hints of black threading in the fabric. He shook it out in front of her, revealing a shortened pair of robes that was missing a sleeve and showing the runes sewn into the cloth, the black thread she'd seen a glimpse of. Mikael slipped them on over his leather armor then pulled a pair of black leather gloves from his belt and pulled them on, flexing his hands to get them on. A second later he conjured a tiny ball of green fire in his palm, rolling it around in his hand briefly before extinguishing it.

"_I'm taking no chances," _he said grimly.

Tal'Thera began to try and straighten her hair, concentrating on breathing. The idea of Mikael fighting that wretched troll scared her...why couldn't someone else kill her?

The root in the wall suddenly twitched, stretched open and seemingly spat out Jakani then; the troll simply looked at Mikael and nodded in approval, then he smiled down at Tal'Thera.

"_I want her to stay here," _Mikael said suddenly, staring at the floor between his feet.

"_I most certainly will not!" _Tal'Thera blurted, surprised at the volume of her voice. She stumbled to her feet, tugging her sash tighter as she stood. "_You are not going to leave me here alone!"_

_ "I want you to stay safe-"_

_ "And where else will be safer than with you?"_

_ "Easy dere," _Jakani interrupted, chuckling. "_She comes wit' us. She gonna be needed."_

Mikael snapped his gaze up to him. "_Needed? To do what?"_

Jakani shrugged. "_Well, while we be takin' care o' Jin'Loki, SUMBODY gotta be lookin' ta see wat she was doin' dere. Trust me." _He held out a bundle to Tal'Thera who meekly came over to claim it, opening it to reveal a set of robes in a dazzling emerald color with a fitted bodice of green leather and matching belt with multiple pockets.

"_Battle robes?" _she asked faintly. They were beautiful, but...battle robes?! "_I'm not...I'm not a fighter by any stretch of the imagination."_

_ "Dey might be a tad roomy," _Jakani said, acting as though he hadn't heard her at all. "_Dey belong ta a granddaughter o' mine...dey also might be a tad long," _he added, eying her, sizing her up. "_I tink ya be shorter dan her."_

_ "Jakani, I am no fighter," _she repeated, hugging the robes to her chest.

"_Never hurts ta be prepared, mon," _he said, not even looking at her. "_Udder room, let da lady dress. Got sumtin ta tell ya anyhow."_

He led Mikael from the room, leaving Tal'Thera staring after them both blankly. She fingered the fabric of the robes; they really were lovely robes, but they were for combat mages. If anything she considered herself an enchantress, a parlor mage, and a researcher, not a battle-ready spellcaster. The thought of fighting terrified her...did Jakani REALLY believe she would be of any use whatsoever?

'I am useless, which is why Mikael wanted to leave me here,' she thought sourly, even though she knew that was not the man's true intention. Jakani had obviously intended her to come along with them from the start, as his arrival with the robes left little choice in the matter. What did he expect her to do? Stand in a corner and cower at the enemy?

'I hate being so useless,' she sighed, stripping off her current robes and beginning to puzzle out how to get the battle robes on.

* * *

_ "We are goin' wit a small group," _Jakani said once he and Mikael were in the other room.

"_How small is small?"_

_ "A few people. Sum ya know, actually."_

Mikael looked at him in surprise. "_Someone I know? Who?"_

_ "Not sum ONE, SUM ya might know," _the troll chuckled. "_Ya be seein' soon."_

They waited in silence for a while, then Mikael shook his head and sighed heavily. "_Do you know what I should be expecting, when we go to confront Jin'Loki?"_

_ "I do, but I not gonna explain myself more dan once. Wait 'til we wit da group."_

Mikael nodded curtly and the silence returned; he was just beginning to fidget from foot to foot when Tal'Thera appeared in the doorway, smoothing her hair and her robes. He nearly choked on his own spit when he saw her framed in the doorway - she was beautiful in those green robes, and that bodice set off every curve...

She saw his gaze roaming over her and flushed as red as her hair, ducking her head shyly.

"_Well den," _Jakani said dryly, looking between the two. "_Let's get movin'."_

The old troll strode forward, Tal'Thera stepping back out of his way; Mikael moved up to her, offering her his hand. She took it, folding her fingers over his gloved ones and squeezing gently. He returned the squeeze then led her after Jakani, who was waiting over by the root protruding from the wall.

The troll gestured to the root. "_Place ya hand dere, and wen ya feel ya hand sinkin' step tru."_

Both Mikael and Tal'Thera pressed their free hands to the wood, and Jakani stood behind them murmuring; after a moment the wood began to feel spongy beneath their fingers, and it was Mikael who took a deep breath and stepped into - and through - the wood first, pulling a surprised Tal'Thera behind him.

The sensation was peculiar, like pressing pressed through gel while simultaneously being hung upside down, and she finally bumped into something solid as the sensation faded. The solid object was Mikael, and he had stopped and was staring ahead of them, dumbfounded.

"Sal?"

They had left the tiny rooms behind and were in a much larger room full of tikis and tapestries hung between huge wooden beams, and with a fire in a fireplace. In this room was a gathering of others: two adult night elves - one male, one female - a male draenei, a young male night elf, a male blood elf, and Catwissa.

"Mikael? How in the world-?"

The female was on her feet coming at them; Mikael enveloped the tiny female in a one-armed hug, his other hand remaining in Tal'Thera's - and the mage smiled inside when he did - then held the night elf out at arm's length.

"How in the hell - I mean, how...?" Mikael sputtered, chuckling and shaking his head in disbelief.

"I could ask you the same thing," Saliea said, eyes wide. Her gaze shifted beyond his shoulder, meeting with Tal'Thera's, then moving again to settle on Jakani behind them. "What is going on?"

"Sit, I explain," the troll said, repeating himself in Orcish for Tal'Thera.

Mikael followed behind Saliea, settling into the floor near her, pulling Tal'Thera in to his side; Tal'Thera didn't miss the confused look Saliea gave her, looking between the mage and Mikael, but then the night elf's attention was drawn back to Jakani as the troll began to pace.

"_Dis be how it came together," _he began. "_Da druid here is destined ta have a powerful son. Jin'Loki wanted to take dat child, if it be the one she be carryin' now, or prevent da boy's birth. Dat be why she is here. Her husband dere, he here becuz he got a debt needin' payin' ta da elements. Da warrior dere is far more dan he seems, but he and da boy dere got pulled inta dis by accidental circumstance, much like da warlock. Now..." _Jakani said, looking at them all in turn.

_"Here is wat be needin' doin' and wat we gonna do. I know where da anchor for da cavern is. We gonna go dere, enter da cavern, and da draenei and me daughter gonna be wit' me ta destroy da tree." _Jakani paused, smiling slyly at Pathora and switching to Common. "While we do dat, da rest o' ya gonna be dealin' wit' Jin'Loki, and findin' out wat she was doin' dere and how she be drawin' power off da Nightmare, am I right master fighter?"

Pathora looked surprised despite the blindfold. "I was going to do that myself. But yes. We must find out how this Jin'Loki is using the power of the Nightmare."

"Den we go. Goddess protect us all."

"As simple as that?" Saliea asked into the silence.

Jakani grinned. "As simple as dat."

"Good," she said dryly. "I like simple plans."

Catwissa appeared at Mikael's elbow then, leaning between him and Saliea. In her hands she held a shimmering silver short sword.

"It be da best our swordsmiths have turned in da recent years," she said as he took the weapon.

He nodded and released Tal'Thera's hand long enough to test the weapon's balance and sharpness, then accepted the scabbard and threaded it onto his belt, sheathing the sword then helping Tal'Thera to her feet...then turned and looked right at the other blood elf in the room.

"_I smell fel energy," _he said.

The other male snorted. "_I detect the Light."_

_ "I was once a paladin."_

_ "I am a warlock."_

_ "I'm technically a battlecaster."_

The blood elf's eyebrows rose. "_And you're still alive?"_

Now Mikael grinned slightly. "_Amazingly. I am Mikael Sullivan."_

_ "Call me Pit."_

The two males nodded to one another, then Jakani cleared his throat.

"Off we go."

With that, the troll walked straight at one of the wooden beams and sank into it, disappearing. One by one - with Pit groaning "_Oh not again..." - _they each stepped to the beam and stepped through it.

Upon reaching the other side heavy and hot air pressed in on them, and Mikael heard familiar cries of birds.

"_Stranglethorn_," he hissed.

Tal'Thera looked up at him from her place at his side, her hand once more in his. "_Isn't that where you met Jin'Loki in the first place?"_

He nodded. "_Yes. I guess it makes sense...beware of really, really nasty big cats," _he added, eyes narrowing as he suddenly glanced around.

Saliea, meanwhile, stepped up to Jakani. "Are you not worried that Jin'Loki will be able to follow you back to your home?"

"No one gonna be dere if she does," he said, the skin around his eyes tightening. "We end dis today. Follow." He strode off into the trees, everyone behind him.


	20. Chapter 20

"How did you get mixed up in this?" Saliea asked quietly.

Mikael helped Tal'Thera step over a large, rotting log, then sighed heavily. "It's a long story that, providing we all survive the next few hours, I'd be happy to tell you. I will say this was accidental."

"Right. And..." she went on, pointedly looking at where the human and the mage held hands. "Care to explain that?"

The warlock's face flushed a bright red. "Yes well...also accidental, but..." He turned to smile at Tal'Thera, who smiled back briefly before the worried expression on her face returned. "I wouldn't do anything differently."

Saliea sighed heavily, shaking her head. "Why is it you're always finding trouble?"

"Pot, meet kettle."

The druid chuckled at that."Okay, that's true, I'm sorry. But...a blood elf? Where can you possibly go where such a union would be found acceptable?"

He shrugged. "I don't know...blood elves were once high elves, allies of the Alliance. There must be some people somewhere that won't blindly condemn her merely because her race is allied with the Horde now."

"I wish you well, whatever happens," Sal said quietly with a smile.

He nodded, then his expression turned grim. "I might ask what YOU are doing in all of this. I shouldn't need to tell you the risk you're taking considering-"

She held up a hand, stalling him. "Yes yes, I know. I've heard enough of that from Sevei," she whispered, glancing ahead to where the draenei strode solemnly at the side of Jakani. "The risk is unavoidable. I was a target to be kidnapped by this Jin'Loki, she...she wanted my child." Saliea spread a hand over her stomach silently, eying the ground. "We were assaulted in Moonglade, myself, Sevei, the blood elf Pit, and my student," she said, gesturing to the youth that walked in front of them. "Had I been given a choice, I would have let her take only me and left everyone else in relative safety in Moonglade, but Jakani's...people, came and saved us."

"Tal'Thera and I were kidnapped by Jin'Loki," Mikael said into the silence. "Jakani's daughter helped us escape."

"Why you two?"

"Back to the accidental thing," he sighed. "First, I accidentally met Jin'Loki while traveling to Orgrimmar. Then, I was merely there at the time when they first targeted Tal'Thera...it escalated from there."

"I expect to hear about everything when we're done with the task at hand...whatever that may end up being," she added.

"I'm going to kill Jin'Loki," Mikael said firmly, staring straight ahead, eyes narrowing. "I am going to kill her."

"You mean that?"

"I do."

Saliea looked at him, hard, studying his face; he stared back evenly, and finally she looked away.

"I shouldn't need to draw your attention to what will happen should you die here," the druid said quietly.

Mikael looked at Tal'Thera, the blood elf keeping her attention on where they were walking, being as she couldn't understand a word of what was being said. She must have sensed him looking at her, because she looked up, an unspoken question on her face. He simply smiled again and squeezed her hand gently, which she returned before returning her attention to the ground beneath her feet.

"I won't die," he said softly. "But Jin'Loki will pay for what she did."

The further they went the more dense the undergrowth became, making travel more difficult as they were fighting against nature itself to move forward. The only ones who seemed to be having no trouble at all walking were Saliea, Sevei, Jakani, and Catwissa, all of them moving gracefully through the undergrowth as though they had found hidden paths in the thick green plantlife.

Mikael was focusing on getting through the greenery, and on what he planned to do to Jin'Loki, so when they stumbled into an opening in the undergrowth he was taken by surprise.

"What happened here?" he heard Pathora mutter.

They were in a huge clearing, something one shouldn't be able to find in the jungle. The grass and vines beneath their feet were withered and dry, like a heat wave had crisped them; there were no trees, no sign of there ever being trees in the clearing...except for one. In the exact center of the roughly circular clearing was a single tree. It was barren, skeletal, and was darkly colored, and barely stood above ten feet in height.

Catwissa shook her head and closed her eyes. "It was not like dis when I first came here. It was vibrant and alive then."

Jakani turned to face them all, face grim. "Here is how we do dis. All I require be wit' me be da shaman. Da rest o' ya, I'm thinkin' da warrior dere got a job for ya," the troll said, eying Pathora.

Nodding, Pathora crossed his arms over his chest. "It is in our best interest to find out what they were doing here. Somehow they are affecting the Nightmare. Using it to capture helpless mortals. We must find out how and why."

"Take Tal'Thera with you," Mikael said after a moment. They all turned to look at him and he held up a hand. "Trust me. She has a special talent that may shorten your search for information."

"How do you know that?" Saliea asked.

Mikael's smile was grim. "Elervina..._informed _me...of an area inside this place that was like a barracks, or a training area. There were books there. It might not be research they were conducting here, but you may find your answers within those tomes."

"And how can she help us?" Pathora asked, looking skeptical despite the blindfold on his face.

"She's a mage, she may have spells of finding, and..." He looked at her, then back at them, face coloring. "She has a special talent, she can touch magical items and glean information from them like she's reading a book. Anything magical, including uh...people," he said, voice trailing off into a whisper, thinking of those damned markings on his back. "Tal'Thera may be able to shorten your search."

"Plus she'll be out of harm's way, you hope," Saliea added in a voice quiet enough that only the warlock could hear. He didn't give any sign that he'd heard her.

Jakani cleared his throat then. "All right den. In we go. We will be appearin' in da chamber dat holds da tree...be prepared for anyting."

They all stepped to the withered tree, placing their hands on the trunk as Jakani instructed them to, then let the tree engulf them.

Moments later, they all appeared in a huge chamber at the base of a massive tree; the tree looked even worse than the one on the surface had, with bulges dotting its bark and encrusted with thick clumps of smoky gray crystals. It was rooted in an island of plain dirt, surrounded by water with tangles of root poking up from the depths, the chamber lit by the greenish glow of the mysterious lights dancing in the canopy above.

Catwissa sucked in a breath with a hiss, shuddering; Jakani's expression merely hardened.

"Come. We've work ta do. Da rest of ya, up top, find wat ya be lookin' for."

Sevei ran his fingers down Saliea's arm briefly, then turned and followed the ancient troll as he began to poke about in the upraised roots along the base. Catwissa jerked her head out toward the water, and the rest of them followed her as she began to navigate the maze of roots over the still water, glancing warily down every so often.

"_There are...those snake monsters, under the water," _Tal'Thera whispered, pressing in close to Mikael as she spoke.

He nodded and she stepped away, walking in front of him; Mikael had his hand on the hilt of his borrowed sword now, and he too was now keeping an eye on the water.

They finally came out onto a large root and Catwissa pointed straight up, all of them following with their gaze to see...something, extending from the ceiling far above.

"I don't possess any part of da tree, so I'll be asking da elements for help," she said softly. "Don't fight it, just let it lift ya."

Mikael felt a sudden pressure around his waist, like a giant hand had seized him, then felt his feet lift off the root and then he was flying up toward the ceiling. As he drew closer to the _thing _they'd spotted a moment earlier, he saw it was a circular opening of some sort, and when he flew into that opening he felt he was now in a tunnel, and he thought of something back from his imprisonment: he vaguely remembered Jin'Loki showing him a well, and claiming his fate or his destiny or whatever lay down it...was he now flying _up _that very same well?

He flew out of the tunnel and found that yes, this WAS the same well; when his feet touched the ground he already had his sword out and his body was tensed, ready to spring into action. Barely registering that the others were, one by one, coming up the well behind him, Mikael stepped further into the room, gaze roaming around. He saw the piles of sand on the far wall, all that remained of what had been the wall separating this room from Catwissa's cell; he saw the hallway Jin'Loki had dragged him down to bring him here. What he didn't see was any sign of life, any sign that Jin'Loki or any of her snake-beast servants were lurking about.

"I don't like this," he said, his voice echoing oddly.

"Where?" Pathora asked, reaching over his shoulder to grasp the hilt of his massive weapon. "Where are those books?"

Mikael opened his mouth to reply, but a flash of movement in the doorway had caught his attention and he was instantly off, sprinting after it.

Pathora and Catwissa immediately followed, leaving Saliea with Darae and the two blood elves; the druid let Pit follow along without a sound, but she seized Darae and Tal'Thera by the arms and held them back.

"Both of you stay with me," she said, repeating herself in Orcish for the blood elf. "If a fight erupts, both of you find somewhere safe to hide and STAY there."

Both the boy and the mage nodded mutely, and followed as Saliea too began to run off after the others.

* * *

Mikael had seen her, and now Jin'Loki was just ahead of him in the hallway, leading him on a chase. He knew this would likely end in a trap, but he didn't care; he was confident that now that he wasn't hobbled and had full use of his magic he would be more than a match for anything the conniving female could throw at him. So silently he challenged her to throw what she would at him, he was ready.

And he wasn't surprised at all when he came sliding to a halt, several paces into a huge room he knew all too well; torture devices surrounded him on all sides, on their own raised platforms, and there was no sign of Jin'Loki.

"Scared?" he shouted, flexing his grip on the sword he held. "Or are you trying to unnerve me?"

He held up a hand as he heard the others catch up to him, then pointed to his left. "Doorway, over there. It will lead to another hallway, follow it and it will take you to the barracks area. Go, hurry!"

They hurried by him, and he followed their progress out of the corner of one eye; he was too far away to shout a warning when he spied movement along the wall above the doorway they were entering. All but Pit had made it through, the blood elf having stopped to let Saliea, Tal'Thera, and Darae through first; one of the snake beasts detached itself from the wall and lunged, and Pit was quick enough to duck and roll away, but his roll took him further from the door and when he'd gotten to his feet again he found himself facing three of the creatures between him and the exit.

Pit rapidly backed up, plunging a hand inside the pack strapped to his back and pulling out...a gun?

The blood elf reached back and rested one hand on a rack behind him, then aimed and fired with the other; the explosion was deafening as it echoed over and over, and when the smoke from the explosives cleared away some one could see the scattered, charred remains of the snake creatures...and Jin'Loki standing in their midst, gripping a sinewy, gnarled staff topped with a glowing yellow gemstone.

Mikael sprinted that way to aid the blood elf as Jin'Loki kicked at Pit, a snap kick that caught the blood elf under the chin and tossed him back over the rack, which he toppled over and hit the floor on the other side. Mikael came leaping over another rack, sword leading, and Jin'Loki was forced to duck away.

"_Pit!"_

_ "MOVE!" _the blood elf roared, popping up over the rack even as he was shoving another explosive down the barrel of the launcher. Mikael rolled to the side to give him a clear shot at the troll, ducking behind a coffin-like structure full of spikes and plugging his ears.

Jin'Loki's eyes widened, and she gestured at the launcher then clenched her fist.

The explosion was more of a loud 'puft' noise, a blast of air and force without fire; Pit was thrown across the floor to slam into the wall, his launcher landing in his lap. He went to pick it up but it gave a shriek and a groan, like twisting metal, and simply shattered into a multitude of smoking shrapnel.

Pit simply stared at it, jaw dropping; he reached up and shoved his goggles up his forehead, his eyes as wide as they could go, staring at the smoking remains of his rocket launcher.

"_She broke it..."_

_ "Pit! Pit, move!" _Mikael shouted, coming out from behind the coffin and diving at Jin'Loki as the troll stalked toward the stunned elf.

"_She broke it. She BROKE it."_

Mikael hit Jin'Loki at waist-height and they both rolled to the floor in a wild tangle; moments later Mikael lifted into the air and was sent flying halfway across the room where he somehow managed to landed on his feet.

Pit stood up, leaning against the wall; he silently reached up and pulled his goggles back down over his eyes, adjusting each lens briefly before each hand flared with bright green fel fire.

"_Have you ANY idea how long that took to build?" _he said softly.

Jin'Loki's back was to him, the troll's attention riveted on Mikael as the human was coming after her again; Pit clenched a fist, extinguishing the fel flame it held, then reached into his pack and pulled out a tubular device with a fuse. He held the fuse to the flickering flames lining his other hand, then threw the tube.

The stick of dynamite flew directly at the troll, arching so it would strike her directly between the shoulder blades. The yellow gemstone on the staff Jin'Loki held flared, and moments before the stick struck her a faint orange shield surrounded the troll; the detonation lifted the troll from her feet and sent her sailing toward Mikael. The human stopped his charge, aimed, and slammed a bolt of pure shadow into the troll's gut.

Jin'Loki snarled, hit the floor and rolled, coming up with her free arm wrapped around her stomach.

"Playtime is over," she growled, raising the staff high.

A peculiar sound echoed in the cavern, like silk being rubbed against silk followed by the sound of someone sweeping stone.

It unraveled from the ceiling like a coil of rope, the 'thud' of impact actually lifting Mikael's feet from the ground briefly. It was a green and black snake; raising to its full height, the serpent towered over them with a head as big as a draft horse, flicking its tongue as it shifted on its coils.

Mikael eyed it then eyed Jin'Loki, the female smugly grinning despite still holding her midsection. He looked over his shoulder to see that Pit was being herded toward him by the coils of the snake - the first thing they both needed to do was get out of the snake's coils...Mikael had no intention of adding a third thing to the list of things that had swallowed him.

"_Please tell me you know how to fight," _he muttered when Pit was nearly back to back with him.

"_I am going to kill her," _the blood elf growled.

"_Wait your turn," _Mikael replied, looking for the quickest path out of the closing coils of the snake. "_When I say go, run for the far side of the room."_

_ "What do you plan to do?"_

_ "Make it really, really angry."_

* * *

Tal'Thera strained back toward the torture room. "_But Mikael is-!"_

_ "Mikael is fine!" _Saliea insisted, dragging the resisting mage by the wrist. "_He's likely more capable than any of us here at taking care of himself!"_

They were hurrying down the hallway, trying to ignore the muffled thuds of explosions coming from behind...and it was hard for Saliea to do. She was leaving not only Mikael behind, but Pit as well; she knew Mikael was an able fighter but even he had his limits.

The two would simply have to look after one another she told herself - she had Darae, Tal'Thera, Pathora, and herself to worry about, not to mention the stomach-turning anxiety she had every time she thought of Sevei, down in the well with Jakani...

"Slow," Pathora ordered, slowing to a jog and holding a hand up. In front of them the hallway was ending, opening into a room. "And quiet."

Saliea nodded, silently stepping up behind the warrior and hunching down, peering out into the room around his hip. Pathora reached up and quietly grasped the hilt of his sword, then peeked out around the doorway; a room of humanoids, of various races, met his gaze. They were gathered in small groups, bristling with weapons and magic, standing amongst the tables and bunks in the room. They were waiting.

"They knew," he growled, springing out into the room and drawing his sword in the same movement. "Stay back!"

Saliea shoved Darae and Tal'Thera flat against the wall as the warrior moved. "Stay here and stay out of sight!"

Pathora surged forward to meet the charge of the first few cultists. There were maybe twenty in the room, a motley assortment of men and women of various races all armed and obviously ready for a fight. The ones racing for him now were all human males dressed in blackened mail armor, one with daggers and the other two with swords in each hand. The advantage to having such a large weapon was apparent as Pathora expertly turned his sword, catching the first assault of all six blades on the flat of his own blade, turning them aside with ease.

He planted a foot and pivoted, ducking beneath swords as one swung high, slamming a gauntleted fist into the man's face and accepting a few daggers strikes in the side that his armor easily deflected. The huge sword came swinging around again, catching the punched man in the arm and severing it completely; limb and weapon clattered to the ground as the man screamed and dropped, tripping up the other sword-wielding attacker.

The warrior turned his attention to the dagger wielder now, glancing over the man's shoulder to see four others running toward him.

Over his shoulder leapt a snarling ball of fur, and Saliea slammed full-on into the approaching group of four, scattering them in every direction. With the onslaught momentarily stalled, Pathora thrust his sword forward and impaled the dagger-wielding male on it and ripped it out the man's side, already moving forward as the man dropped and spilled his innards across the floor.

Saliea was doing a mad scramble across the room, leaping tables and chairs as the spellcasters lining the back walls let loose with powerful blasts of shadow and arcane magics. Anyone unlucky enough to be within the druid's reach was ripped by teeth or raked by claws and in her wake followed Pathora swinging his sword, unable to as effectively strike his targets as he was hindered in mobility by his weapon and his armor.

His armored fist connected solidly with an orc's face as he ran by, sending broken tusks and teeth flying, and the night elf warrior seized the orc by the throat and slammed him into the floor for good measure.

Saliea howled as a spell found its mark, sending her rolling across the floor to topple a table on top of herself with her assailant lunging for her...an assailant stopped cold when Pathora took the caster's head from her shoulders with a quick cleave, leaving him open to suffer a sword cut to the face followed by a boot toe to the chin. She shifted out of her feline form to try and wiggle out from under the table, pushing at it, and cringed when she saw the fighter take the blow.

The warrior hit the ground and rolled coming up with his hands over his eyes, swearing, as the severed scrap of cloth that had been his blindfold fluttered to the floor.

"Very well. Now I am angry," he growled, dropping his hands from his face.

In one motion he lifted the table and threw it back into the group of attackers, sidestepped a shadowbolt, then threw his arms wide.

"Druid. I suggest you move. Get to a wall. I'm going to need space."

Saliea was yanked to her feet and shoved bodily away. She turned, a protest on her face...and then froze, jaw dropping.

The warrior opened his eyes.

Pathora's eyes were acid-yellow and slitted, more fitting for a reptilian face than a night elven one, and his outstretched hands were elongating. He took on a greenish tint and his body grew in girth, muscles rippling beneath his visible skin as his form shifted and changed.

Saliea began to back away, eyes widening. "You lying piece of-"

The rest of her startled expletive was drowned out as Pathora roared, voice gone octaves deeper as the chest cavity expanded. Within minutes the cultists found they didn't face a lone druid and warrior, they faced a druid and a _fully grown green dragon._

"It is not a lie if one was never asked directly for truth," Pathora said dryly, one slit-pupiled eye focused on Saliea. "Move."

"Who the hell are you?" she shouted at him, diving for the far wall as the dragon moved forward.

"You may call me Pathora still. My true name is Xialakus."

He reached out and swiped a huge taloned fist into the group of cultists still stupidly standing near him; he easily dwarfed the humanoids now, and easily threw the ones he struck across the room as the casters scrambled back and attempted to babble out their spells, unnerved by the dragon's sudden appearance.

Those who clutched close-ranged weapons and had thus far managed to avoid the dragon's wrath all scrambled for cover, shouting in terror; Pathora reared up and flared his wings, chuckling as he crushed a body beneath a foot.

"Come then! You wished for a fight. I wish to fight."

Huddled against the far wall, out of the way of Pathora's - Xialakus's? - thrashing tail, Saliea set about healing the minor injuries she'd taken from the blades and spells of the cultists; her right side was a mass of purple bruises and burns from the shadow energy.

Pathora was carefully clearing the room, making space; bunks and weapons racks were either thrown aside harmlessly, thrown into the clustered groups of cultists, or otherwise crushed beneath him. He was being careful not to hit the bookshelves, or strike the tables that had scrolls or tomes on them - it was a good thing the room was so large.

Saliea glanced back to the doorway they had entered from, seeing no sign of Darae or Tal'Thera and hoping they had found some place to hide and would remain there.

* * *

Darae's eyes were wide as he watched Pathora's small form swell up into the shape of a dragon, and he ducked his head back into the hallway and pressed flat against the wall.

"He's a dragon..." he whispered, almost sliding down the wall in shock.

The blood elf with him was standing pale and silent at his side, seeming to wince every time an especially loud scream reached them.

The roar of the dragon from the other room covered up the noise of someone approaching, and Darae was distracted enough that he didn't notice the male troll running up behind them until it was too late to do anything about it.

Tal'Thera let out a shriek as she was grabbed roughly from behind. Darae had a split instant to spin around before he was struck across the head then kicked aside; he hit the floor, all the air whooshing out of him, and rolled until he came up against the wall.

The troll chuckled nastily and said something in his own language, Tal'Thera answering in Orcish, Darae unable to understand either of them but understanding the troll's intent when he began to drag the struggling blood elf back the way he'd come.

"H-hey," he gasped, scrambling to his feet and lunging after them. He managed to grab ahold of one of the troll's arms that was wrapped around the blood elf, prying at it. "Let go of her!"

The troll snarled at him and kicked out, catching the boy in the gut and launching him backwards; Darae found himself back against the wall again with the wind knocked out of him. He looked up in a daze to see the male crack Tal'Thera over the head with a closed fist, the blood elf crumpling to the floor, then he turned his gaze to Darae. Again he growled something in his native tongue, then came after him.

Darae tried rolling out of the way as the troll kicked at him again, the troll's foot just barely grazing his shoulder. As the troll was pulling back for another blow Darae leapt forward, hitting the other at the waist and sending them both tumbling to the floor.

He had no idea what to do now; the troll was much stronger than him, and began to pummel him about the face and chest, finally shoving the flailing youth off to the side with a hook to the jaw. Darae saw stars, then his vision exploded in white lines and red blotches as he received another grazing kick, this time to the side of his head. He had enough sense to grab the leg the next time it arched in to hit him and then he clung to it, blinking to try and clear his vision.

His seizure of the leg threw the troll off-balance and Darae shoved hard, tipping the troll back down to the floor. Vision mostly clear now, Darae held out a hand and took careful aim.

White-hot moonfire answered his call and burned into the troll's shoulder; the troll howled and squirmed away, bringing his knees up to his chest and kicking up to launch himself back onto his feet. Darae swallowed hard and fired the spell again, scooting away backwards on his rear as the troll dodged the attack and leapt for him.

Darae rolled away, the troll hitting the floor on all fours and nearly snagging the boy's ankle. Laying flat on his back now he craned his neck to look down his body at the troll as it crawled toward him on his knees.

Darae's hands shook but he held them out and whispered the spell his shan'do had taught him, feeling his fingers tingle as balls of swirling green formed in his palms then shot out at the troll. One hit, singeing the troll's left bicep, the other striking the wall by the troll's head and sending sharp rock shards flying everywhere. Darae whispered the incantation again but the troll sharply gestured and snarled something, and then Darae felt as though a hand made of pure ice had just clamped down on his throat.

The shock of suddenly being unable to breathe coupled with his sudden panic left Darae at the mercy of the troll as it stomped to him and kicked him in the gut; Darae doubled over, unable to gasp, breathe, _move. _The troll kicked again and Darae felt something in his chest pop and send an explosion of agony through him; he didn't even notice when the choking spell ended and he was able to breathe again. His lungs were paralyzed with pain and proving to be quite unresponsive, and as he lay there he detected darkness creeping into his vision even as his body screamed at him for air and for healing, for the pain to end.

His cheek lay against the stone floor beneath him, and through half-open eyes he watched dully as the troll turned, chuckling, and stalked back to where Tal'Thera lay against the wall. The blood elf had recovered from the blow to the head and let out a gasp as she noticed the troll coming for her; she raised her hands, to cast a spell perhaps or maybe just to attempt to block any further blows, but the troll lunged forward and seized her wrists, lifting her bodily from the floor.

She shrieked and struggled, kicking at him, but he only rolled her under an arm and pinned her wrists together in one hand.

Darae watched as he began to walk off down the hallway, Tal'Thera in his grasp and a wolf at his feet.

Wait...

Perhaps his inability to draw enough air into his lungs was causing him to see things that weren't there, but he thought he could clearly see a large, grey-white wolf standing calmly at the troll's side. The wolf turned to regard him, black eyes sparkling in the fierce face.

_'Are you just going to lay there and let him leave?'_

Darae coughed, blinking. The wolf took a few steps toward him.

_'Are you just going to lay there...and let him leave?'_

He wanted to tell the wolf he couldn't do anything, he could barely breathe as it was and that he didn't possess the strength needed, but all that came out was a senseless groan.

The wolf looked over its shoulder as the troll suddenly stopped and turned around, a nasty grin spreading across his face as he looked back at Darae. Tal'Thera squirmed in his grasp, tears running silently down her face; the troll tucked her more firmly under his arm, squeezed her wrists hard enough that she cried out in pain, then he began to stalk back down the hall toward the boy.

'_You have but one chance. Are you strong, or will you die weak?'_

"I want..." Darae gasped, watching emotionlessly as the troll knelt and produced a dagger from somewhere on his person. "I want...to be..."

"Strong."

The dagger flashed in and Darae jerked back, ignoring the clang as the blade struck then grated on the stone floor; now he shoved himself forward, biting down hard on the troll's forearm, snarling the one other spell he'd learned from his shan'do. His skin erupted in sharp wooden thorns of varying sizes, further piercing the troll's arm and even pinning one of his feet to the floor.

The troll shouted in surprise and pain, dropping Tal'Thera to the floor even as his dagger fell from nerveless fingers. He made the stupid mistake of attempting to strike Darae, only managing to tear his free hand to shreds against the thorns lining nearly every inch of the boy's body.

Darae ground his teeth together, shutting his eyes as the copper taste of hot blood filled his mouth, the scent flooding his nostrils and igniting a wild, feral sensation deep within him. He liked that smell, that taste, he hungered for more. He was a cornered animal that had just turned the tables on its prey, he was now the hunter. Like a dog Darae began to shake the troll's arm back and forth in his mouth, growling as he did so and causing the troll to struggle to pull away, frantic.

He felt a heavy pressure on his back and looked up to see the wolf perched upon his back.

'_Your strength is impressive. Let me show you...'_

It was sudden; the wolf disappeared but Darae felt as though a wet, warm blanket had just fallen over him. He felt the sliding sensation of bones rearranging, of his spine lengthening. Broken ribs mended as his ribcage changed, grew bigger, more barrel-chested. Thick fur sprouted, a dark charcoal gray, covering the thorns that still sprouted from his body.

Darae stood and threw back his head, howling, as a surge of incredible strength washed over him. Smells and sounds, even vibrations through the floor, threatened to overwhelm his new senses but one particular scent stood out above all others.

He licked his muzzle, tasting the remnants of the blood there, then turned to squarely face the troll that was rapidly backpedaling down the hall. A thick red smear was left in his wake, and Darae remembered the taste of it.

His lips pulled back from his teeth as he snarled and leapt over a terrified, prone Tal'Thera.

* * *

Somehow they managed to jump the thrashing tail and get out into the more open area of the room, but the snapping maw of the snake was right behind them as they ran.

Both warlocks were firing spells behind them as they ran but for the most part the magic was simply being deflected either by Jin'Loki and her glowing staff or by the snake's own scale.

"_Split!" _Pit shouted as they approached the wall, giving Mikael a shove right while he went left.

The snake reared up and actually ran up the wall some, unable to cease its forward momentum, then it veered right after the human.

Jin'Loki, however, leapt off the snake and sprinted after Pit, the gem on the top of her staff flaring and sending several beams of red energy after him. They shot by, burning holes in his robes where they didn't miss completely, striking the wall and leaving scorch marks.

"_I'm coming for you, elf_," the troll snarled, laughing.

* * *

Mikael threw himself aside as the snake's mouth went rushing by, missing him by only a few inches; the snake's momentum carried it forward again, forcing it to go several meters further than the human before it could turn around, giving Mikael plenty of time to dodge aside as the tail came whipping for him. He had no idea how to hurt this thing; all his spells had bounced off the scale, much like most of the spells he had thrown at the smaller snake-monsters.

Speaking of which, he was rather glad Jin'Loki hadn't brought an army of the damned things with her...and he wondered why she hadn't. If she really wanted to crush them all, wouldn't she have brought all her available forces to bear? Unless-

Mikael tripped over the edge of a platform and landed, stretched on on his stomach with his hands out in front of him, a sudden panic gripping him.

What if she hadn't summoned the creatures, because they were engaged elsewhere?

"Tal'Thera..." he breathed.

He was halfway to getting to his feet when the tip of the giant snake's tail caught up with him, slamming into his hip and sending him straight up into the air.

Mikael flailed, twisting around in time to see the gaping maw of the snake rushing up at him and seeing too the floor very far below him. A fall from this height would break more than a few things if it didn't kill him outright.

He thought of the spell that would send a blast of eldritch energy - that had proven effective against the snake-creatures, maybe it would work here too. He whispered it and aimed for-

But Jin'Loki wasn't on the snake's head anymore!

He swore as the snake rushed closer, within striking distance, as he reached his apex and began to plummet. Where the hell was Jin'Loki?!

Throwing his sword aside Mikael aimed his spell regardless and fired it, it striking the snake's nose and sending shattered scale flying in every direction with a spray of blood. The snake shrieked and hissed in pain, thrashing beneath him; Mikael fell and hit the coils, rolling down them until he landed on the floor. The snake twitched around and before he could get out of the way a coil had shifted over and pinned one of his legs to the floor.

He felt his leg bending the wrong way and desperately tried to pull away but the snake was far too heavy - not that he expected moving would help anyway - so for a few tense seconds he simply prayed it wouldn't roll over and crush him entirely. Finally it dragged itself off him, wrenching his trapped leg further, the snake withdrawing and coiling in on itself.

"At least it didn't swallow me," he moaned, half-dragging half-crawling away as fast as he could. He went to stand up and instead tipped sideways as his knee gave out with an explosion of agony. It was the same one Sereventra had nearly bitten completely through in his battle with her in Zangarmarsh. Just looking at it he could tell something was wrong, as if the constant pain emanating from it wasn't enough to clue him in; from his knee down his leg was cocked at an odd angle. He could move his ankle and his toes, but bending the knee itself felt more than a little impossible.

"Fantastic," he growled, beginning to drag himself as far as he could, listening as the snake still writhed and hissed behind him in pain. He had better make the best use of this time that he could...

Pulling himself into a sitting position Mikael cast, forced to look up as his summoned servant appeared and towered over him.

"What do you want now?" Shaathun growled, glaring down at him.

Mikael carefully straightened his leg with one hand and pointed with the other, still scooting backwards. Shaathun turned to look and jerked back in surprise when he took in the sight of the giant snake.

"Kill it," was all Mikael said. "Any way you want to. Tear it to pieces!"

Shaathun at first looked uncertain as he took in the serpent's size as the snake was recovering and shifting in on itself, glaring at them...but as soon as Mikael's order left his mouth, an order of free reign, the ability to do _whatever he wished _to the snake, the felguard's look turned to a nasty smile of anticipation.

"With pleasure, master," he chuckled, hefting his axe.

Mikael turned from what was going to be a glorified, horrific, and bloody slaughter and began to look about for either a place to hide and assess the damage to his leg - could he still walk on it, possibly? - or hopefully he'd find something to lever himself up with. If he could limp, he'd be satisfied.

* * *

Pit ducked another barrage of fiery red energy and returned fire with blasts of shadow released from his fingertips. Jin'Loki ducked the bolts and swung the staff at him, forcing Pit to step back and leaving him open for a quick jab in the gut. He staggered back, inhaling raggedly, and suffered several blows to the head that sent him reeling sideways, nearly tripping over his own feet. Again and again he summoned brief bursts of heat to drive the troll back from him until he'd recovered from her attacks, then finally he reached a hand into his robes and pulled out a small leather pouch.

"_Let nothing remain!" _he shouted, ripping the pouch open and throwing its contents to the floor at the troll's feet.

The glob of pitch landed with a splat and spread out...and kept spreading, far larger than it should have been able to. As it spread it grew thicker and began to grow tendrils that snapped at Jin'Loki's ankles, seeking to entangle. The troll let out a grunt of surprise and leapt back from them, forced to seemingly dance around to avoid the tendrils that were only getting longer as the pitch still increased in size.

Pit carefully aimed and then struck, slamming a shadowbolt into one of her ankles just as she touched down from a backflip; that foot shot out from under her and she dropped and was promptly entangled in his previous spell.

She snarled and began to struggle wildly; Pit had to admit he was mildly surprised as some of the tendrils grappling with her were torn apart from the force of her struggles.

"_Let nothing remain," _he said again quietly. He plunged a hand into his pack and pulled out a rough, cloth-wrapped tubular object. Turning it over in his hands he located a thin twine sticking out from one end, and then carefully lit that twine with a tiny lick of flame he conjured on his fingertip.

Almost casually, he tossed the lit stick of dynamite into the pitch.

The dynamite detonated, then there was a second smaller detonation as the pitch ignited; Pit reached up and quickly flicked down a lens on his goggles, a very thick and darker lens specifically made to allow him to observe bright objects like...well, explosions.

His gaze roamed over the burning pitch, snorting as the acrid stench reached him; just barely then, over the crackle of the fire, he detected a sound above him. He snapped his gaze up to the ceiling in time to see Jin'Loki diving out of a shifting patch of shadow, plummeting for him.

"_I will enjoy feasting on your entrails," _she snarled, dropping down and sweeping his legs out from under him, leaping atop him even as he fell.

Pit grimaced and grabbed the staff with both hands as she tried forcing it down on his neck, meaning to choke him. Arms trembling with the effort he slowly began to force her up, then smiled faintly a split instant before the air surrounding him ignited.

Jin'Loki shrieked and dove off him, those small bits of pitch that clung to her burning like tiny novas on her armor. As she beat at the fires Pit quickly sketched a spell in front of him, not even waiting for his servant to appear before issuing his order.

"_Hold her there Sloomyn!" _Pit ordered, getting to his feet and conjuring a ball of shadow between his palms as the felhound came into view. Mouth opening wide Sloomyn leapt, suckers darting in for her face.

Jin'Loki batted away the suckers then thrust the head of her staff into the felhound's gut and fired, sending the demon flying away with a pained yelp; the blood elf's spell of shadow struck a hand holding the staff and the troll snarled in pain, rolling away as a second ball of darkness followed the first. She leapt to her feet and spun, another bolt of fire exploding from the tip of that staff.

It hit Pit just as he was throwing another spell, blasting a hole through his left palm and interrupting his casting as he cried out and cupped the injury in his other hand.

The troll leapt for him then was batted aside as Sloomyn charged her, the felhound doing its best to fasten its sucker-tipped tentacles into her skin; Jin'Loki flailed, the suckers scraping over her armor, snarling and cursing under the heavy beast. She spat out a spell and sank into the floor, leaving Sloomyn snapping at empty space.

Pit could feel blood running down his arms; his hand was throbbing, each throb sending tidal waves of pain racing up his arm and into his mind. The pain served to focus his attention to a crystal clarity, so he wasn't at all surprised when the darkness above him solidified again and the troll dropped down toward him. He staggered away from her attack, Jin'Loki landing and immediately lunging for him; he fended her off with a quick burst of shadow released from his good hand, then ducked as she swung that damned staff at him again.

Sloomyn darted around him and seized her leg in his mouth, worrying it back and forth like a dog shaking a small animal. She simply reversed her grip on her weapon and brought the glowing gem down squarely on the felhound's head; there was a flash of red and a sharp crack, then Sloomyn's pained howl cut through the air as the demon collapsed.

"_Sloomyn!"_

Jin'Loki raised her staff to strike the ailing felhound again and Pit slammed a shadowbolt into her gut, driving her back.

"_Sloomyn, just go!"_

The felhound whined and struggled to stand then simply flopped to the floor, tentacles drooping on either side of its body.

"_I said go!"_

Finally the demon faded from sight; Pit raised bloody hands and began a long incantation, eyes riveted on the groaning form of Jin'Loki. As he neared completion the troll got to her feet, ripping away scorched armor to reveal discolored flesh beneath.

"_You'll pay dearly for that," _she whispered, eyes narrowing.

Pit simply began speaking as quickly as he could, finishing his casting just as Jin'Loki thrust a fist at him. His spell, a massive crackling ball of fel fire, collided in midair with her sickly green spear of corrupted nature energy; the resulting explosion threw both of them back in opposite directions. Pit hit the floor and rolled, coming to a stop and finding himself yanked to his feet, nearly nose to nose with Mikael.

"_What are you - where's the snake?" _he sputtered.

"_It's taken care of," _came the answer. Mikael let go of him and stepped back, and Pit could see the human was leaning heavily on a makeshift crutch made of a broken length of wood off one of the torture racks. "_We need to end this now."_

_ "Indeed we do!" _Jin'Loki crowed as, without warning, she was suddenly between the two warlocks with blades flashing in her hand. Pit fell back with a cry as she sliced down his face, then jabbed the same dagger into Mikael's hip as she kicked away the crutch, seizing Mikael as he began to crumple and leaping with inhuman strength into the air with him in tow.

_"Come my pet! Crush the blood elf!"_

Pit stood rigid, staring at the floor; when he looked up, he calmly reached up and tore off his goggles, eyes narrowed.

"_I am really angry now," _he murmured, his entire right arm erupting in fel fire. He thrust his arm toward Jin'Loki and released all of it; the flames hit Jin'Loki and she shrieked as it ate at her flesh, dropping the staff she held as the afflicted limb twisted and burned.

Mikael grabbed the remaining hand holding him and chanted, throwing curse after curse as the troll's leap carried them back toward where Shaathun battled the giant serpent. Jin'Loki laughed crazily, ignoring the burning, glowing fel runes beginning to erupt on her skin, having seemingly already forgotten the pain she'd suffered only seconds before...then she simply stopped, eyes growing wide.

Shaathun slammed his axe again and again into snake flesh, into any part that came near to the felguard. The demon was covered in blood, scale, and gobbets of mess, the floor beneath its feet slick and shined with fluid. The snake snapped down at the felguard, the demon dropping its axe and catching the mouth with a hand on its top and bottom, sliding backwards as the snake shoved forward, trying to catch and force the felguard into its mouth. Muscles bulging Shaathun forced that mouth open wider, threatening to snap it in two and finally the snake began to pull away, shaking its head to try and toss the demon away. Shaathun let go and fell to the floor, landing heavily in a squat and scooping its weapon up in the same motion.

Now the snake brought the tail to bear, slamming it down across the felguard and knocking him from his feet, thrashing on top of it until finally the tail lifted up with Shaathun trapped in the coils. Hissing the snake pulled the demon toward its mouth again, intending to toss Shaathun into its gullet and be done with it.

Shaathun had other plans, however; the felguard roared, flexing and bracing his hands on his hips. The length of snake wrapped around him had taken a great deal of damage from the demon's axe and was covered in several deep gashes; Shaathun braced his hands on his hips and shoved outward, forcing the injured flesh to give way and the coils began to loosen.

"Mak'nak lok ashj zennshi'ered xa xartha!" Mikael suddenly shouted. At the end of his spell his eyes flared crimson.

Shaathun was then engulfed in a flickering blood-red aura; the felguard roared and shoved outward, freeing himself from the snake with seemingly little effort. He dropped heavily to the floor and scooped up his axe, charging in and over the coils, leaping to strike at the snake's head.

Jin'Loki shrieked in a manic rage as the felguard flew through the air, axe flashing, and slammed into the snake; the serpent tried pulling its head back but the demon's weapon still sank deep, midway between the tip of the snake's snout and its eyes. Shaathun rode the thrashing beast to the ground and before it had time to recover ripped his axe free and struck again, and then again, widening the wound and reducing the snake to a pile of quivering, senseless scale and gore.

Still shrieking, Jin'Loki threw Mikael behind her and dove for the felguard. The demon's red glow faded just as the troll reached him; his empowerment gone, Shaathun was nowhere near as strong as he had been a moment before, and the troll's enraged attack hit him with enough force to send him flying backwards to crash head-first into the wall with a moist crack.

Behind them Mikael collided with Pit and the two of them hit the floor in a tangle of limbs.

For a moment Mikael couldn't speak as his leg introduced him to a new level of pain, as the limb was entangled in a fold of the blood elf's robes. Finally, he started to shift feebly. "_Thanks...for breaking my...fall_," he gasped, trying to find some way to budge himself without agitating his injured leg.

"_Thanks for breaking my everything," _came the groaned reply. "_Get off..."_

With the elf's help they disentangled themselves and sat up, turning their attention back to where Jin'Loki had been in time to see the troll pick up the limp felguard and hoist him, one-handed, over her head. Shaathun's head lolled freely, he didn't even struggle.

"_Damnit- Shaathun! Dismissed! GO!"_

The troll's free fist flared with ebon lightning and she stiffened her fingers and struck, impaling her arm up to the elbow into the felguard's chest. Mikael roared in pain and anger as the felguard's connection to him was abruptly severed; he knew the demon had merely been sent back to the Twisting Nether, as no demon bound to him could ever truly die, but the backlash caused by the demon's forced banishment sent explosions of white-hot agony dancing behind Mikael's eyes. The first time he'd ever had one of his servants 'die' on him had surprised him to the point he'd passed out, and right now he felt he was very close to that point as his head throbbed in time with his knee.

He could hear his heartbeat and his blood roaring in his ears, and so it took a moment for it to register that Pit was talking to him.

"_-kill her now! Look!"_

Struggling to clear vision that was rapidly becoming blurry, Mikael focused his gaze on Jin'Loki and swore loudly.

The troll shouldn't have even been able to stand; her right arm was a mass of crisped flesh, burnt down nearly to the bone and now coated in Shaathun's blood. Her other arm was smoking slightly as the curses Mikael had hit her with slowly devoured her skin and began to corrupt her essence, spreading their way up her shoulder and neck.

She slumped on her feet, heaving as she breathed raggedly, body trembling.

"_I...will...kill...you all," _she snarled, raising her head to look at them. Her eyes had a sickly blue-black glow in them, and as they watched the glow began to creep from her eyes and line her face, traveling slowly until it had wrapped her entire form. It then changed from a glow to a wispy vapor, beginning to twist around her in some unseen whirlwind. "_Kill...kill..." _she whispered as she disappeared into the spinning mist.

Pit recovered his senses and clambered up on his knees, retrieving yet another stick of dynamite and going to light it off a fingertip, then it dropped from suddenly slack fingers.

"_Oh that can't be good..."_

Mikael shook his head, rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes, then squinted...and then swore again.

The snake carcass had fallen still...but it was dissolving into an oily black vapor and being drawn into the whirling smoke cloaking Jin'Loki. As more and more joined the miniature maelstrom Mikael could feel a build-up of pressure in his mind that had nothing to do with the backlash caused by Shaathun's forced return to the Twisting Nether.

Magic - a lot of it - was beginning to gather. Around Jin'Loki.

Leg and head beating twin tattoos in his mind, Mikael struggled to get up. Things were about to get much, much worse.

* * *

Jakani gazed down at the heartseed, swallowing down the sickness rising in his throat resulting from just being this close to it. The corruption, the evil, emanating from it reached out for him, tried twining sickly tendrils of darkness around his essence. He pushed it away then gathered his strength to himself...pushing it away from the tree itself would not be an easy task.

"Go now," Jakani said softly, turning to look at his daughter and the draenei standing just behind him.

"But Papa-"

"Go. I not tell ya again," Jakani said firmly.

Catwissa closed her eyes a moment, then mutely nodded and followed Sevei from the heartseed chamber.

"We must...hold here," she said after several moments of silence where the two of them simply surveyed the still water. "No matter the cost."

Sevei dropped his hands to the axes hanging from his belt, nodding curtly.

The silence pressed in; they had no idea what Jakani was doing in that tiny chamber behind them, but suddenly the earth beneath their feet shuddered. Troll and draenei looked at one another as the ground trembled again. The tree above them rustled quietly, like a gentle breeze stirred its top-most branches.

Catwissa began to speak then sucked in her breath with a hiss; the water was beginning to stir and froth in multiple places amongst the upraised roots. They watched as the snake-creatures of nightmare began to pull themselves up onto the roots, dripping and shining in the abnormal green glow from above.

"My papa be damned," Catwissa hissed. She turned to Sevei and gripped his face in both hands. "I must help him, I must lend my strength. Spirits be with ya shaman."

With that she turned and ran back into the heartseed chamber, leaving Sevei staring helplessly after her.

Slowly he turned back to see the roots crowded with at least a score of the monsters, possibly more...and in the water glinting on their bodies he could see the reflection of his death. Resolutely he drew his weapons, swallowing as he whispered the spell that made his axes burn with fire; as the weapons ignited he heard a very soft chuckle, like a tickle in his mind.

'So much ya don' be knowin' shaman.'

Plaki's voice was so faint Sevei at first thought he'd imagined it.

'Dis ain't da time ta be relyin' on ya physical strength. Physical strength fails, it flags and wears down, mon. Reach out, ya know how. Da spirits, dey be listenin'.'

Sevei paused - like the tree, the elements here felt corrupted as well. He wasn't certain it would be wise to open himself to such impurity.

Olani's voice joined Plaki's in whispering to him. 'Let da fire o' ya soul burn away da wrongness.'

'Stupid child.' Now Huk's voice joined the other two, overpowering and drowning them out. 'Ya want strength? I show ya strength. Here be wat courage of da heart can give ya in a dark hour. Ya payin' attention?'

Sevei felt his mind literally wrenched open to the elemental world, and immediately he was assaulted by how wrong everything felt. But, the guiding force that had forced him open pointed his consciousness to the ground beneath his hooves.

'See here, how ya touch it? Make it whole.'

Like he was observing the world in solely two colors, Sevei could see the earth beneath him easily, and could easily see where he needed to apply his own power to that of the element to cleanse it of its corruption. The darkness fled and he felt the earth respond to him readily; the soil heaved itself upward, slithering up his body and settling on him like a wet coat. Experimentally he moved and the earth settled itself into semi-solid plates on his skin, forming to his movements and not impeding his mobility in the slightest.

'Ya wear wat ya call armor. Dat ain't armor. _THIS _be armor.'

Sevei gripped his flaming weapons, focusing his attention on the nearest of the snake-beasts. Most of them had moved from out on the water to roots closer to the land at the base of the tree, and yet the water still birthed more of them from the depths. Feeling the strength of the earth both on and around him, and hearing the whisper of the three troll ancestors, Sevei banished his hesitation and fear and roared a challenge before rushing to meet their first charge.


	21. Chapter 21

Apparently his sudden change hadn't actually healed his ribs, for as Darae finished shredding the upper body of the troll he felt the returning pangs of pain as the adrenaline rush of transformation faded. He left the mangled body in the floor and turned, seeing that Tal'Thera knelt on the floor behind him where she'd been when he changed, staring at him with a look somewhere between horror and awe.

He padded back to her, flopping to the floor weakly and letting out a quiet whine. His ribs _hurt._

* * *

Saliea stood with Pathora in the middle of the room, surveying the carnage. All the cultists were dead, all had fought to the death, even the ones who at first had tried to flee. Pathora had a hand clamped over his eyes and was fumbling one-handed with the other strip of white cloth he had tied around a forearm.

With a sigh Saliea reached up, deftly untied it, and shoved it into the dragon's hand.

"Here."

"Thank you." He tied the cloth around his eyes then dropped his hands to his sides. "They were protecting something. Why else would they fight a battle they had no hope of winning? Fetch the blood elf."

Saliea opened her mouth to speak then snapped it shut as a howl tore through the air. Eyes widening she turned, looking back to the doorway to see no sign of Darae or Tal'Thera.

"Damn it," she hissed, sprinting that way. Pathora followed, pausing long enough to scoop up his sword as he ran.

Saliea stopped suddenly enough that he slammed into her and sent the tiny druid flying; deftly he snagged the back of her belt and held her, suspended off the floor. She sent him a brief, venomous glare as she got her feet back under her, then she was moving away again.

"By Cenarius, what happened?"

Tal'Thera was sitting stiffly in the floor, pale as milk and shaking, and beside her rested a large wolf. As Saliea approached the wolf lifted its head from the floor and thumped its tail weakly, letting out a whimper.

"_Where is Darae?" _Saliea asked slowly, eying the wolf and the unresponsive blood elf both.

Tal'Thera shook herself, like waking from a dream, and lifted her gaze up to them. "_Need I really answer that?" _she asked softly, glancing quickly at the wolf then back up at Saliea and Pathora.

Saliea eyed the wolf, frowning. "_A druid cannot take a form unless he seeks the blessing of the spirit he wishes to take the form of," _she said, carefully kneeling and holding out a hand. The wolf halfheartedly licked her palm, still wagging its tail.

Tal'Thera shook her head, swallowing hard. "_Why would I lie? That is the boy."_

Saliea pursed her lips, then ground her teeth together. "_This complicates things, if that's true."_

_ "How?"_

_ "A druid isn't supposed to take a form unless they gain the blessing of that particular spirit. It teaches them how to change...and how to change back."_

The mage's eyes widened. "_You mean...he's trapped like that?"_

_ "No, but it's going to make my job more difficult teaching him this later. It's always hard to unlearn something that was learned incorrectly the first time." _

Saliea moved to the side of the wolf, gently feeling for injuries and nodding as the canine growled and snapped at her hand when she reached its chest. Tal'Thera swallowed and edged away, looking everywhere but up at Pathora.

"_The...the troll that attacked us. He kicked Darae, in the chest."_

The druid looked up sharply. "_The troll?"_

Tal'Thera turned slightly green and pointed down the hallway further; Sal turned to see the mutilated remains of a humanoid laying in a pool of bodily fluids.

"_He was kidnapping me, and the boy defended..." _She trailed off, biting her bottom lip and staring at the floor.

Saliea reached out and laid a hand on the blood elf's shoulder, gently squeezing. "_You don't need to explain or explain away any guilt you may be feeling. Darae is feral, as am I. We're naturally inclined to protecting others...and truth be told we can have nasty tempers when injured," _she added dryly.

"_How...how can you help him?" _Tal'Thera asked after a moment, wiping a hand across her eyes.

"_Turn away."_

_ "Why?" _she asked, startled.

Saliea's look was apologetic. "_Well, there's one sure-fire way of knocking a druid out of their animal form, providing they're not so far gone feral they think of themselves as the beast instead of as the night elf...and, I'd rather you not watch what I'm about to do."_

Tal'Thera simply stared, so Saliea shrugged and made a fist with one hand, covered it with the other...then brought both down on the back of the wolf's skull. There were twin thuds, one from Saliea's strike and another from the wolf's head hitting the floor; the wolf went still, and Saliea leaned over it expectantly.

After a moment, tiny differences were apparent. The fur was thinning, the tail was shrinking; in slow motion the wolf form melted away and left the crumpled form of Darae laying in the floor. Saliea let out a huge sigh, shaking her head, then turned to look up at Pathora, the warrior watching silently.

"Let's find what you're looking for, find the others, and get out of here before anything else happens."

Pathora nodded, then abruptly turned and headed back to the barracks; Saliea carefully picked up Darae and stood, gesturing for Tal'Thera to follow.

Once they were all back inside the room Saliea located a table that was intact enough for it to remain standing, then laid Darae out on it and began to carefully peel his shirt away from his chest. His chest was a mess of bruises and discolored skin - the boy had obviously taken a beating. Saliea gently rested her hands on his chest and began to heal the worst of the injuries, seeking the broken ribs first as the boy could deal with having bruises.

Pathora still stood silently, observing; finally Saliea replaced the boy's shirt and left him on the table, then went to stand in front of Tal'Thera.

"_Mikael told me that you have a special talent," _she began. Tal'Thera nodded mutely, and Saliea tried her best to smile reassuringly. "_The cultists here fought to hide something, and we need to know what that something was. Can you...will you, use your talent to try and locate whatever it was they were protecting?"_

Tal'Thera swallowed hard. "_I...I can try, but you...you must realize that I may not find anything, or may not find the right thing."_

_ "Just try your best, we'll be searching too."_

The mage nodded and began to walk slowly toward the books against the far wall, Saliea walking with her.

* * *

It was amazing. Words could not describe.

They came at him from all directions, claws scraping off his hardened earth armor that hugged his body like a fine silk yet protected better than the finest mail. The creatures rained from the treetop above, and crawled from the water, but none ever caught him off-guard.

He felt them coming, in the earth, in the air, from the water. He was the earth, air, the water. He burned with fire and let its strength imbue his attacks, burning away everything that came at him. Already there was a pile of bodies, waist-high, gathered around him. And yet they kept coming.

Every so often, just out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the spirits whirling around him, the owners of the voices constantly whispering in his mind. Jakani's ancestors were determined to see their troll shaman through this battle and stood beside Sevei, guiding him down a twisting path deeper into the understanding of the elements, more deeply than Sevei had ever dared push before, so that the draenei could protect their many-great grandson. He understood a hidden danger here, the danger of losing his sense of self and becoming lost in the spirit world, but with the trolls constantly speaking to him he doubted that he would become lost.

In a way, the fighting saddened him; he knew he would never be this at one with the elements again. The immense font of knowledge beckoned to him, but the price for such knowledge was a steep one...the cost being his self. Even still, it was tempting.

Occasionally he would feel a charge, a jolt through his center, as one of the troll ancestors took a more direct role in guiding and actually physically possessed him for the briefest of moments. But that was okay. He was purposely leaving himself wide open to their influences, and if their quick push or nudge saved him injury or death, then housing one of them inside his body was well worth it.

He was so caught up in the slaughter that, when the creatures began to pause, began to slow in their rush, at first Sevei didn't even notice. Finally, when one of the deadly creatures actually clumsily stumbled toward him, Sevei realized something was wrong. It began a small tickle on the back of his neck, then it blossomed into a full feeling of the frenzied need to get to safety.

Using the air to lift himself he leapt backward, landing squarely in the doorway leading to the heartseed chamber, his back to the chamber itself. Out in front of him the snake beasts stumbled, tripped over themselves, swung at nothing...as though they were terribly disoriented.

Then the tree began to shudder.

Sevei looked up to see the branches beginning to thrash violently, the lights darting around in them taking on a frenzied speed, accompanied by a high-pitching keening. One by one the lights began to fade as the tree shuddered again; the dirt beneath his feet began to dry out and crack, unexplainable as they were surrounded by water. Cautiously he edged back into the heartseed chamber, and then something far above him cracked loudly moments before a massive limb plummeted.

A sound like peeling thunder was beginning to build in volume, and it was punctuated every moment with the shriek of splitting, wet wood. Spidery cracks shot through the tree and widened as the thunder grew louder - shattering crystals now joined the cacophony and shards of twinkling crystal glass began to rain down into the water.

The tree was ripping itself apart above him, and there was no safe place to run to.

* * *

The fog blasted away and revealed her, and Mikael could feel the blood drain from his face.

Jin'Loki stood twice as tall now, covered in scaled and corded muscle. She grinned and revealed serpent fangs in a mouth that was far too wide for her face. Slowly she blinked black eyes with white slitted pupils, hissing through her teeth.

"_It'sssss time I ended thisssss."_

"Move move move!" he yelled, forgetting himself a moment and shouting it in Common; Pit didn't need a translator and scrambled along with Mikael to get away from this new monstrosity as she charged for them.

She was impossibly fast and caught up in seconds, raking clawed hands down the blood elf's back even as she kicked Mikael's good leg out from under him and caught him in midair with a kick to the gut; both warlocks hit the floor and rolled in separate directions, and Mikael found himself pinned with Jin'Loki standing over him.

"I don't care what my masssster hasss sssaid," she shrieked into his face, spit flying with every word. "I will ssssee you dead!"

He tried to grapple with her, as she began to throttle him, but along with her new 'look' she was incredibly strong; black dots began to swim in his vision as his body cried out for air. Dazedly he tried thinking of a spell even as he kicked and struggled, but there wasn't much he could do...

With a whisper he resorted to the only spell he could think of; the air around him ignited. Jin'Loki screeched and leapt off him, a flailing inferno. As soon as she was off him Mikael threw himself into a roll - he'd been laying on his back when he cast his spell, and the spell itself centered on him and went out in equal force in all directions. There had been no place for the spell to go behind him, and as he rolled he could feel the tingling sensation of a burn stretching from his shoulderblades down to mid-thigh. He kept rolling even when he was certain he wasn't actually on fire, trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and the crazed troll.

Jin'Loki shrieked and flailed, but the fire was going out.

Suddenly there was a boom and the face-slap of force; Jin'Loki screeched in pain again, moments before a twin boom went off. Mikael hauled himself up into a sitting position in time to see Pit pull another stick of dynamite from his pack, shorten the fuse and light it, and throw it. It exploded just inches from striking Jin'Loki, and the troll stumbled back from the fire, the light, and the force of the explosion.

Several more sticks followed those, but then there was a lull in the blasts. Jin'Loki, amazingly, still stood; her body was covered in shiny burns in those places where it was not burnt a crisp black. Her armor was all but gone and the sickly stench of burnt flesh was overwhelming. When it seemed no more explosives were coming her direction, the troll turned her gaze from the human to the blood elf.

As Mikael watched, Pit reached into his pack again...and rooted around. And then pulled it in front of him and opened it wide, staring into it. And then the blood elf looked up, a panicked expression on his face.

Jin'Loki's manic smile returned...and she leapt.

There was a single, brief flicker of green fire at the blood elf's side, then the elf was standing and raising something above his head; he hurled it, his entire body put into the effort. Whatever it was flew end over end and was dead-on to collide with the troll.

But there was something wrong with the troll. Like watching a candle melt, her enlarged, twisted form was changing. She was shrinking back to her previous size, her scaled muscle was disappearing. The flesh on one arm shriveled back to reflect the fel fire damage it had taken earlier. And Jin'Loki was aware of the changes; halfway to the blood elf saw her drawing two daggers from her belt, a twisted expression on her face that was something between rage and terror.

She suddenly threw the daggers; the weapons and Pit's object crossed in midair and hit their targets at about the same time. The blood elf staggered back and landed on his behind in the floor, gasping as he reached a trembling hand up to the twin daggers embedded in his shoulder.

Jin'Loki instinctively caught whatever it was Pit had thrown, and as she landed a scant five feet away from the elf she suddenly began to laugh.

"_THIS? THIS IS THE BEST YOU CAN DO?!" _she crowed, holding the object high.

A squirming imp was clenched by the skull in her hand, writhing around something he held in a two-handed grip.

"_I'll crush his tiny little skull!"_

Pit was ignoring her, scrambling backward on hands and knees and screaming at the tops of his lungs something that, at first, was incoherent, but then Mikael finally made out what he was shouting.

"_DISMISSED! DISMISSED! DISMISSED! COVER!"_

Unable to even really move, Mikael simply curled into a ball and covered his head with his hands.

The imp in Jin'Loki's hands shrilly giggled then disappeared...and the object he'd been holding dropped to the floor at Jin'Loki's feet with an almost innocent-sounding metallic clang.

The explosion was deafening, and the resulting heat and wash of hot air and splintered stone blasted the breath out of both warlocks. When it was over the silence was anything but - their ears rang with the aftermath of the blast and with their own heartbeats and blood pounding.

Cautiously Mikael sat up, blinking away after images of the fire; where Jin'Loki had been was a crater, and in that crater was a pile of gore that could only be the crazed troll. Gingerly Mikael pulled himself up to his feet then began to hobble over toward it, unable to yet see beyond the crater to see if Pit had survived. Finally he fell to his knees at the edge of the crater and peered in.

The scorched remains of Jin'Loki lay in several pieces at the bottom. Hot, crumbling stone and dirt beneath his hands threatened to pitch him forward; he watched as some rolled down, then looked up as he heard a scrabbling on the far side of the crater. Slowly crawling into view came Pit, blinking rapidly and hissing as he touched a dirty hand to a dagger still jutting out of his shoulder.

"_Is she dead?"_

_ "She's in multiple pieces," _Mikael replied, swallowing as he realized he had just barely heard the blood elf. That blast had really been something.

Pit must have been having hearing problems as well, as he rubbed a finger vigorously in both ears before speaking again. "_That was my last one, glad it worked. I...I've never been quite this deafened before." _He rubbed at his ears again. "_Remind me never to toss one that big while indoors again." _Carefully he reached up to gingerly wrap his fingers around the hilt of one dagger, then with a pained hiss and grunt he pulled it free, then pressed two fingers to his wound. "_Ow."_

Mikael shook his head, feeling a bubble of absurd laughter working its way up from his stomach. It began as a giggle, then slowly grew into something bigger; Pit watched in confusion, half-smiling in mild confusion, one hand on the dagger still remaining in his shoulder and the other holding the one he'd just pulled free, but then the laughter caught on. For several moments the two warlocks simply crouched on their sides of the crater and just laughed...then Pit pitched sideways, eyes rolling in his head.

"_Pit!"_

_ "I...I feel rather...dizzy..."_

Mikael hurried around the crater, half-dragging half-limping his way to the blood elf's side. When he dropped into a sitting position by the blood elf, the first thing he noticed was the dagger still loosely held in his hand. He pulled it free, growling when he spied the blackened blade and the familiar green sheen.

"_Poisoned..."_

Pit's face paled. "_Poison? I'm not...going to die am I?"_

_ "How do you feel?"_

_ "Dizzy, and...I can't feel my arm on that side."_

Mikael whispered an apology and pulled the other weapon free without warning; Pit grunted and swore under his breath, and Mikael found he held a dagger identical to the first. Both poisoned.

"_Mikael?"_

He looked from the daggers down to the blood elf. "_Yes?"_

_ "It's uh...spreading."_

_ "What is?"  
"The...feeling, I-" _The blood elf simply shut his mouth and jabbed the fingers of his other hand into his injured side. "_Can't feel anything-"_

The human leaned over and threw the two daggers into the pit that held the remains of their wielder. "_That's good then."_

Pit raised his head, staring at him incredulously. "_Good? How is that _good?!"

_"Because that means I know what poison this is," _Mikael replied, smiling grimly. "_It's meant to paralyze."_

_ "I fail to see how that is good."_

_ "Because it means it won't kill you," _Mikael answered dryly.

He settled next to the elf, carefully stretching out his leg and closing his eyes against the fresh waves of pain.

"_Now what?" _Pit asked after several moments of silence.

Mikael opened his eyes blearily. "_We wait."_

_ "For what?"_

_ "Not what, who. We wait for the others to come find us. I don't have the strength to go find them."_

After several moments, with Pit's permission, Mikael began tearing strips of cloth from the hem of the blood elf's robes and began to bind the elf's injuries with them. He had to remove the elf's goggles to dab at the deep cut on his face, leaving them sitting by Pit's head.

He mostly worked in silence, but finally he simply shook his head. "_Pit?"_

_ "Yes?"_

_ "Did you...honestly strap a...a bomb...to your imp and throw him?"_

_ "...maybe?"_

* * *

Tal'Thera extended her hands toward yet another tome, swallowing against the nausea that had become a common reaction from touching the books. Such a high concentration of evil magic in these books, just touching them made her queasy...she couldn't understand how Mikael could handle them without feeling any ill effects.

So far she'd suffered just sickening urges; whatever the dragon standing over her was looking for, she obviously hadn't found it yet, and wasn't certain what he wanted anyhow. He was back in his elven form, and she couldn't communicate with him aside from hand movements and gestures. She'd begun to simply set aside the books and shake her head, and he would frown at her and turn his attention to a new tome.

There had to be a score or more of books here, and she'd already touched nearly half of those. Inhaling, hating herself for being so weak, she looked at the pile of books and spied one with a black and purple leather binding with emerald green stitching that both held the book together and spelled out the title that she couldn't read. She sucked in a breath, exhaled slowly, and picked it up.

She felt a jolt of power and the oily whispers of promises of power in her mind, far more than the other books had imparted. Hands shaking she flipped the book open and jumped as a tiny shard of smokey gray crystal fell from between the pages and clattered to the floor. Pathora was immediately over to her then, bending to retrieve it.

He held it up between his fingers, examining it with eyes hidden behind a new blindfold. He murmured something in his own tongue, clenching his fist around the crystal. Tal'Thera glanced down at the open pages of the book, seeing the crawling, scrawled text of Eredun.

Abruptly Pathora snatched the book from her hands and snapped it shut, nodding tersely at her. She nodded back - if she had found what he was looking for, and thus wouldn't need to touch another wicked tome, then she was certainly not going to complain.

Pathora began to stride quickly away from her, calling to Saliea where the druid knelt beside her still senseless student. The druid answered him, then stood up and gestured to Tal'Thera.

"_We're through here, let's go help the others," _Saliea called.

The thought of seeing Mikael again sent a thrill down and she hurried over as Saliea picked up the limp form of Darae and went to follow Pathora.

They wound their way through the hallways and, even before they'd neared the room full of torture devices, the smell of burnt flesh and hair reached them. Without a word to one another they all quickened their pace, the smell growing in power until they burst into the torture chamber and were nearly overwhelmed by the horrible stench.

"_Oh...oh no..." _Tal'Thera whimpered.

Saliea's face hardened as they began to move out into the room. Several steps in, Tal'Thera let out a tiny whimper and began to sprint, rushing between Saliea and Pathora and hurrying ahead of them.

He had obviously dragged them away from the edge, and now both human and blood elf were sprawled at the base of a platform housing a set of twin racks covered in spiked chain. Mikael lay slumped against the platform, eyes closed, likely asleep but he looked so still that for a moment Tal'Thera's heart stopped.

"_Mikael!"_

The human's eyes opened and he lifted his head; his face broke into a broad smile that, while he looked utterly exhausted, it lit up his face and sent a warmth rushing through Tal'Thera that made her knees weaken. She reached him and threw herself into arms that were already open in anticipation.

He groaned into her ear as she wrapped arms around his neck and hugged herself to him, but he pulled her close despite the pain.

"_I'm so glad you're alive..."_

_ "Alive is relative," _he chuckled into her hair, carefully shifting her off his twisted leg. "_I feel like the walking dead."_

Anything else he might have said was abruptly cut off as she grabbed his face and kissed him. When they pulled apart, they looked up to see the others staring at them.

"..._what?"_

* * *

The tree had stopped its heaving.

Limbs from the topmost crown of the tree littered the ground, like a tornado had roared through. The tree didn't have a single place that wasn't splintered, and Sevei considered it a miracle that the chamber behind him hadn't been crushed by the broken wood from above.

He almost wished it had been.

Sevei was sitting in the soil, drained and sagging against the remains of the tree. The ancestors and the power had left him, he was covered in the remains of his earthen armor, and he sat with his back to the scene he had walked into only moments before.

He stared out over the water silently, unaware of the passage of time until he heard a soft step behind him.

Catwissa lowered herself to the ground beside him, sighing softly.

"It be done. The tree is destroyed."

Sevei nodded.

"I know...that my father, he came here knowing he'd die," she went on quietly.

Again he simply nodded, knowing what he would see should he turn around to face the heartseed chamber once more. "He knew what must be done."

"He never shied from duty," she chuckled sadly. She reached into a pocket and pulled out a tiny object, what looked like a red gem smaller than the tip of her pinky. Resting on her palm it looked positively innocent; she studied it, sighing heavily.

"At first I wondered how Jin'Loki had managed to steal a piece of the heartseed and attune it to her...then I realized, she had stolen the piece gifted to a chieftain." She hefted the tiny bit in her palm, shaking her head. "This one...belongs to my father. It will pass on to da next chieftain of the Truthseekers."

Sevei tipped his head back, breathing in deeply. "How will you know?"

Catwissa tucked the piece back into her pocket. "I will know."

They sat in silence a moment, then Catwissa shifted beside him. "How did it feel?"

He smiled briefly. "It was amazing. I didn't simply channel the elements, it felt as though I was becoming them."

She nodded. "A shaman has endless potential based on how fervently he studies. You may, someday, reach that level of attunement again."

Sevei nodded, then stood and turned around, looking into the heartseed chamber. The great heart-shaped wooden object was covered in gaping cracks, but Sevei's brow furrowed when he realized he no longer saw the ancient troll's body laid beside it. He turned wordlessly back to Catwissa, who still stared out over the still waters.

"We bury our dead in trees," was all she said, knowing without looking.

Sevei stepped around her, crunching over the crystal fragments coating the ground. "Can we find the others then, and leave?"

Catwissa smiled faintly. "That would be wise. The tree is not wholly dead, not yet...and if it dies while we are still in here, we may not be able to leave."

He looked back at her, alarmed, but she was already standing to take his arm and guide him over the roots back beneath the bottom of the well. They ascended swiftly and landed lightly on their feet, then-

Sevei was bowled over by a slight form, both laughing as druid and shaman hit the floor in a heap. Catwissa chuckled and stepped away from the two, looking up to see the others following along slowly. She took in the sight of the warrior carrying the limp form of Darae, saw Mikael limping along with his leg in a rough splint and leaning heavily on a strange staff topped with a yellow gemstone with Tal'Thera hugging herself into his side. Pit stood to his right, holding a bloodied cloth to his face with one hand and clutching his goggles.

Smiling, she nodded toward the well. "Let's go home."

Pathora stepped forward and laid Darae gently at her feet. "You are all free to go. I will be remaining."

Catwissa snorted, looking mildly surprised. "That is not a wise choice, warrior. The tree is in its death throes and when it dies I may not be able to use it to take us from here."

The look on his face turned smug. "I won't require your assistance to leave."

For a brief instant it looked as though his image blurred, then he disappeared entirely; Catwissa gasped, then gasped again and jumped away when the warrior shimmered into view directly behind her. She inhaled deeply, shaking her head.

"Very well then. May I ask why you wish to remain?"

Pathora reached behind him and produced the book Tal'Thera had located. He carefully opened it and showed her the tiny sliver of gray crystal resting there. "I was uncertain what I was looking for but I appear to have found it. The return of my ability to slip into the Emerald Dream at will means I need not worry about getting trapped here. I will stay here and call others to me. There is knowledge to be investigated here." He snapped the book shut, looking down at it. "Whatever knowledge this book holds spells dire trouble indeed for the green dragonflight if it can so easily disrupt our powers."

"Is that why you sought a druid?" Saliea asked from where she perched on Sevei's chest, both still laying in the floor. "Because you couldn't enter the Dream on your own?"

"Yes. More or less. There is far more to it but I cannot share that with others outside of my flight."

The druid rolled her eyes. "Secrecy, lovely."

Pathora's face was especially grim as he focused solely on her. "After all that has happened. After what I personally experienced with the disruption of my draconic powers. Can you truly fault me?"

She shook her head. "Yes, yes, I understand."

Sevei rolled into a sitting position and then stood, simply scooping up his wife as he did so. Catwissa edged away from the night elf warrior and bent to gather up Darae.

"Let's go home, all of us."

Catwissa nimbly leapt down the well, carrying the boy with her. Sevei placed Saliea on her own feet then offered a helping hand to Tal'Thera, who warily took it and, with both the draenei and Mikael's help, eased herself into the well and let herself drop. Next both Sal and Sevei helped Mikael pull himself over and slide from view. Pit waved away their hands and clambered over on his own.

After a moment, Sevei looking at her expectantly, Saliea waved him away; she watched as the shaman disappeared down the well, then she turned to face Pathora.

"I guess we part ways here then. Will we see you again?"

The warrior inhaled deeply, then drew his weapon, holding up the massive sword and studying it. After several moments he reached up to his face and snapped the half-mask he wore free, dropping it to the floor at his feet. In one swift movement he brought the sword down on it; the mask shattered into thousands of sparkling motes then dissipated.

"Rest assured I will not forget any of you. You and yours will always be remembered as friends of the green dragonflight and will have our favor. We will see one another again most likely but mine won't be a face you remember."

"What about what happened here?"

"I mean no offense when saying this. It will be handled by beings far more powerful than you. You have done all you can on this matter. I ask you stay out of the rest. For your own safety."

Saliea smiled wryly at him. "How can I stay out of something you won't explain to me? I may stumble back into it for all I know."

He returned the smile. "The thought crossed my mind. However. I am not the only green dragon wandering the world appearing to be something else. Ysera needs her eyes and ears outside of the Dream. If anything occurs that may threaten to drag other mortals into the conflict, rest assured the green dragons will be working to see that any involvement is only brief and accidental."

Sal chuckled and shook her head, staring at the ground between her feet. "You make it sound as though it's that simple."

"In some cases it can be."

Turning, Saliea placed her hands on the top of the well, gazing at him from over a shoulder. "So, does this mean the legend of the Blind Fighter ends here as well?"

"Of course not. You forget the Blind Fighter never had a memorable face. This is certainly not the first time I've discarded one mask only to pick up another."

She nodded and leaned over the lip of the well. "Ande'thoras-ethil, Xialakus."

"Ishnu-dal-dieb, druid."

She dove headlong into the well and disappeared from view.

* * *

Mikael tipped his head back and took in a lungful of the damp, hot air of Stranglethorn Vale. His splinted leg still hurt, and Catwissa had promised to tend to it as soon as they were well away from this place, but for now he was thankful for two things.

One, he and all the others had survived.

And two, Tal'Thera still pressed in against his side, an arm wrapped around his waist with her head resting against him. They walked in unison and in silence, behind the others as they fought their way through the growth of the jungle heading toward the main road.

He was trying very, very hard to avoid thinking about what it was that he was using to help him walk. This staff...he knew exactly where it had -

Abruptly he wrenched his train of thought from that path. Now was certainly not the time...

Finally the road was beneath their feet, and Catwissa let out a loud sigh of relief.

"We'll be safe here. Let me tend to your wounds now."

Tal'Thera helped Mikael lower himself into a sitting position at the base of a tree just off the road, then slid in beside him; he threw an arm over her and tucked her into his side.

"_We made it," _she whispered, twining her fingers into his.

He smiled at her, wincing as Catwissa began to remove the splint tied to his leg. "_We did."_

"_What happens now?"_

He shrugged and they fell into silence as the troll began to heal them. Several hours later they were all as healthy as they could be, and Catwissa collapsed and curled into a ball without a word, falling asleep almost instantly. Everyone else began to settle in the best that they could, stretching out and giving in to their exhaustion.

Mikael pulled Tal'Thera into his lap and soon the mage was asleep as well, but he remained awake.

The staff he had taken from the torture room, the one that Jin'Loki had been wielding, lay in the grass beside him, glowing softly in the darkness. He fingered its sinewy surface with fingers that trembled slightly - he recognized this staff. He knew it well.

How had Jin'Loki gotten Datavian's staff? And...she had mentioned a master, which was something Jakani had suspected she had, to have suddenly acquired all this power...

He thought again to those eyes Elervina had drawn his attention to, watching them.

'You never found my body.'

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree behind him, quite honestly too afraid to sleep.

* * *

When Saliea stepped through the tree Catwissa had indicated and opened her eyes, the familiar twilight of Moonglade greeted her. This was the same place they had been kidnapped from - Saliea could still see the scorch marks and twin furrows left behind by Pit and his little contraption - and she couldn't help but suffer a chill down her spine as she remembered that night and the feeling of being surrounded by enemies.

She quickly stepped aside to give Sevei and Darae room to exit the tree, and once they were out she carefully placed her hand against the trunk they had just stepped from. Solid, rough bark rasped against her palm, and the druid smiled sadly for a moment; there was a slight hope that perhaps she would see the enigmatic troll priestess again, but for now...

For now, she would simply focus on how relieved she was that they were all home again, safe and sound.

"I don't like falling out of trees," Darae mumbled, staring at the tree Saliea touched. He idly rubbed the back of his neck, where he still had a large bruise; Saliea laughed and threw an arm around his shoulders, then looped her other arm through Sevei's.

"Let's get back to-"

"Lady Silvermist."

The three of them spun around, all instantly on the defensive, as behind them a slim figure stepped out from behind the tree. It was a thin night elf female with emerald green hair held back from her face in twin braids. She was clad in the armor of a Sentinel but radiated a gentle calm and confidence - this was no mere Sentinel, but one of the warrior priestesses of Elune.

"Yes?" Saliea said after a moment, relaxing slightly.

The other bowed to them. "Your pardon for startling you. I was stationed here by the High Priestess in the event that something would occur, or something new be found, that would lead to information on your whereabouts."

"Well, you have your information," Saliea said bluntly. "What else do you want?"

Sevei looked surprised at her tone as Darae actually looked at Saliea in terror.

"S-shan'do that's a _priestess-" _

Saliea glanced at them both. "She's one of the warrior priestesses, the higher ranking members in Elune's order. There's no reason to post a lone fighter out here, not if they were truly still searching this place. If they were still seeking clues there would be far more people here. This smells like politics and I want to know why."

"As perceptive as I was warned about," the priestess replied, smiling warmly. "You are right, of course. This has nothing to do with finding further clues. This place was literally combed over by the proper authorities, even the Archdruid himself. You simply disappeared without a trace, and there was little to find here. No, I am here for an entirely different reason."

"And that is?"

The priestess warrior ducked behind the tree, retrieved a knapsack, then dipped her head and began moving toward them. When she'd reached them they all fell into step and began to head toward Nighthaven.

"The High Priestess stationed me here in the event that you would somehow reappear in the same place you disappeared. It is why I am alone, as there was little hope that this would actually happen. She wishes to speak with you before your return is known."

Saliea snorted loudly. "What could possibly be so important that she doesn't want anyone to know we've returned until after she's spoken with us?"

The priestess chuckled. "Not with your husband and your boy, she wishes only to speak with you."

The druid stopped in her tracks. "What? Why just me?"

"I know not," came the reply. The priestess shrugged and smiled apologetically. "I am simply carrying out my orders. I am to take you to the Temple of the Moon as quickly and quietly as possible."

"Do I have a choice?"

"I would prefer not to use force, but I intend to carry out my orders."

Saliea sighed, obviously annoyed; Sevei wrapped an arm around her waist and gave her a one-armed hug, which she returned before simply nodding at the priestess. She returned the nod and reached into the pack she carried, tugging out three heavy, hooded cloaks.

* * *

Sevei and Darae had to wait in another chamber as Saliea went in to speak with Tyrande. The other female stood and welcomed her warmly, expressing relief at the druid's safe return; Saliea politely bowed then stared at her.

"If you'll pardon my rudeness, I want to get right to the point," Saliea said quietly.

Tyrande smiled and returned to her seat, indicating that Saliea should sit in the empty chair across from her. "I understand." She waited for the druid to sit down, then took a deep breath. "I wish to ask you about Lord Staghelm."

Saliea blinked at her stupidly. "...what?"

"Perhaps that wasn't the best way to start," Tyrande replied, chuckling. "I'm not sure I understand what I wish to ask myself. What I want to know is...how do you view Lord Staghelm? How does he fit into your idea of family?"

Saliea leaned back in her chair, brow furrowing. "How do I see him? What do you mean?"

"...do you see him as a father figure?"

The druid snorted at that. "Ha."

"I am serious, Saliea."

"I...well. I'll admit...I'm rather fond of the cranky old bastard. I know he cared for me in my first weeks of life, but he's kept himself as much out of my life as possible - unless, of course, playing the 'father figure' in my life benefits him in some way."

Tyrande nodded slowly, then cleared her throat. "I see. Do you truly feel that way?"

"It's what it seems like."

Tyrande leaned forward, her look one of utter seriousness. "Would it surprise you for me to tell you that your disappearance nearly sparked a war with the Horde?"

Saliea simply stared. "Uh, I'd say it would, yes."

"When you disappeared shortly after being seen in the company of that blood elf, Fandral was ready to declare war for your return..."

Saliea too leaned forward as the other paused. "But?"

"This is difficult to explain, it feels. Fandral was incensed over your disappearance but...when given the chance to declare his war, he backed down. I have - I have never seen a man look so defeated."

"Back down? Him? Are we talking about the same Archdruid here?"

"He did it because of you," Tyrande said firmly. "There was a meeting in Moonglade between the leaders of the Alliance and Thrall. Thrall had with him a female orc, a female named Meraka. When presented with the chance to plead his case and declare a war, he didn't. He did it because of you, and your trust for Thrall and your friendship to Meraka. Fandral put an unusual amount of trust in your judgment, and...he just, deflated, when it was pointed out that such a trust may be what ended your life." The priestess studied her hands in her lap a moment, then looked back up. "Fandral is an entirely different creature when it comes to you and your well being. I know not what sort of relationship he had with your parents-"

"He was close to my mother, and Donnovan still lives and serves him. All three were close friends," Saliea interrupted.

"-but he sees you as...he sees you as his own offspring," Tyrande finished.

"No he doesn't-"

"He does," Tyrande interjected. "He does," she repeated, softly. "You are precious to him."

Saliea was shaking her head still. "If I was that important to him he would have taken a more active role in my life, he would have raised me himself, he-"

Tyrande silenced her with a gesture, then leaned forward once more. "He is protecting you the only way he knows how."

Saliea stood up so quickly that her chair toppled over. "Protecting. It's always in the name of protection with him! He sees Valstann in every step I take! He's only a father to me if he feels it benefits him!"

"He gave you away to protect you," Tyrande said quietly, remaining in her seat. "Valstann became a target when Fandral's enemies saw the affection between father and son. I imagine he's terrified that such a tragic event will occur again, and so he put you away from him. He gave you to a family that would love you like he couldn't, that would give you a normal life."

"And you know all this magically, right?" Saliea asked with a snort.

"It is merely guesswork on my part, but circumstances point to my guess being very correct."

The druid righted her chair and sat back down. "Then by all means, tell me what you think is happening here."

"I think you are giving him far too little credit. Tell me, had he ever taken such an interest in the training of any other druid? I know how closely he watched you."

"Yes, he was overbearing and demanding. I learned a great deal but it was hell. Continue."

"I think you are trying to deny your own feelings for him."

"Ha!"

Tyrande smiled at her. "I know you love him more than you're willing to admit."

"What do you want with me?" Saliea asked finally.

"Fandral is an entirely different person when it comes to you, Saliea. I want you to love him."

Saliea stared at her blankly.

"Love him as you would your own father."

"My own father is as alien to me as a Forsaken," Saliea replied dully.

"I was not talking about the father that had a hand in creating you, I was referring to Tanyion."

"I know I know," Saliea groaned, putting her face in her hands. "I...how do you expect me to do this? This is Staghelm we're talking about here, he's going to notice if I start acting any differently. Why do you want me to turn him into a father now?"

"Because I believe this proves he's ready to love someone again," Tyrande said softly. "Valstann's death destroyed a vital part of him...but perhaps you can help that part of him heal."

"By loving him?"

"By subtly treating him as you would your father. By including him in the affairs of your family. By being there for him, giving him someone to talk to that isn't a subordinate or political enemy."

"He is the Archdruid, I will ALWAYS be his subordinate."

"In the company of others, perhaps, but alone how does he treat you?"

Saliea was silent several moments, then inhaled deeply through her nose. "He seems to speak more freely when it is only us together in the room."

Tyrande smiled knowingly, then stood. "I believe you will know what needs to be done. I have other matters to attend to. Just...remember, and think upon, what I have said."

The druid stood and turned her back on the priestess silently, then after a moment walked from the room. She made her way through the temple until she came to the open area that housed the fountain that, five years ago, she and Ishanah had landed in in their escape from the eredar Drasai. Glancing up she could just make out the twinkle of a tiny bit of silver at the neck of the statue in the center of the fountain; it was the necklace that a younger Tebrion had placed there in memory of his lost love.

She hadn't seen her brother since he had left to train beneath Zion's guidance - his brush with the shadowed half of divine power had left him shaken, frightened. Zion's mastery of the darkness that mirrors divinity had drawn the night elf to him, and now Tebrion had disappeared, along with the draenei priest, into Outland.

Thinking of her brother, and of Outland, led her to think of Sevei's family - HER family now as well.

Upon her birth Saliea had lost her entire family - Donnovan was missing, her mother was dead, her other remaining family members unaccounted for. She had gone from having no family to having one larger than she had dreamed of: with Donnovan's return came the knowledge of her surname and family tree; with her marriage to Sevei she had gained his relatives as her own; her adopted family, while small in number, had always made sure she felt loved and felt like she belonged.

But in the beginning...in the beginning, there had been Fandral. Only Fandral.

Certainly, he had put her in the care of others. Certainly, he had never taken an active role in her life, except to criticize her training in the druidic path.

But...in the beginning, he'd been all she'd had.

She leaned on the edge of the fountain, staring at her flickering reflection in the water.

A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she spun around, then smiled as she saw Sevei and Darae walk into the room; the draenei's hand was lightly resting on Darae's shoulder, the youth barechested but carrying his shirt in his hands. He was rubbing a small hand across his ribs, the skin devoid of any discoloration, and when he saw Saliea looking their direction he smiled broadly.

"They healed me," he said as they came closer.

She patted the boy's head. "That's good. Now put your shirt on."

Sevei placed his other hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, beginning to guide the three of them from the temple. She allowed him to steer her until they were outside, then she slipped from beneath his hand.

"You two go ahead and head home...there's something I need to do first."

Sevei looked at her a moment, then slowly nodded. "I will see you at home then, my love."

She stood and watched the two walk away, Darae slipping his shirt on as he walked; after a moment Saliea too began to walk, letting her feet guide her to the Cenarion Enclave without really paying attention to where she was going. She stared up at the home built into the wood of the tree, an almost natural part of the tree itself, then inhaled deeply and entered and began to climb the ramp.

At his doorway she paused, looking in.

Fandral stood on the far side of the room, staring out a window with his back to the door. In one had he clutched a scroll and a quill that dripped ink to the floor in slow drips. In the other hand he held a relic of some sort, a glass orb about the size of his fist that contained a green and orange swirling mist. His fingers drummed idly on the relic as he stared out the window, and finally Saliea stepped through the doorway.

"An'da?"

Fandral turned. The relic hit the floor at his feet and shattered.

* * *

Their ride south, through the vibrant jungle, was leisurely and ultimately enjoyable. Tal'Thera lounged against Mikael, enjoying the sights and smells as the warlock guided his dreadsteed down the road, in no hurry whatsoever.

They both knew that, upon reaching Booty Bay, the blood elves would no doubt catch wind of their survival, and would arrive to escort Tal'Thera back to Silvermoon City. Mikael would have to go with her, of course - Spellweaver was still there, a job unfinished - but Booty Bay represented what could possibly be the beginning of the end, and so as they drew closer Mikael slowed their pace more and more.

Even still, the shark head-adorned entrance to the goblin port came into view as night was beginning to fall.

Tal'Thera dozed against him peacefully; he ordered their mount to stop and stared up at the teeth rimming the entrance. Walking in here...would mean quickening their eventual separation. He almost wanted to turn around and disappear into the jungle, but where could they go? He'd be a fool to think they'd never be discovered - Tal'Thera was ultimately too valuable to the blood elves, they wouldn't simply write her off as dead, they would discover the truth no matter how long it took. Walking into any civilized region would leave a trail, but neither could they just run away into the wilderness...Tal'Thera deserved better than that, better than a life of rough, uncertain survival in the wilds of the world.

Sighing, Mikael urged the dreadsteed into a trot and entered the entryway.

Tal'Thera was stirring sleepily when he stopped them outside the inn. He lifted her down and retrieved his knapsack and the gemmed staff from where they were strapped to the saddle, dismissed his steed back to whatever world or plane it existed on when not serving his needs, then hugged her briefly before taking her hand and leading the way into the inn.

He steered them through the crowded room, avoiding rowdy sailors and drunken merchants, heading to the goblin bartender that was leering at them from behind the counter.

"_Whatcha' need boy?"_

Mikael reached for his coin purse. _"Rooms. I require two-"_

_ "One," _Tal'Thera interrupted softly, closing a hand over his hand that gripped his purse. He looked at her in surprise, and she licked her lips, blushing. "_One room."_

_ "...one room," _he repeated, sliding the appropriate amount of coin across to the goblin.

Smiling toothily the goblin gave them a key and simply pointed to the stairs. Mikael nodded and he and the mage headed upstairs.

On the key he held there was a large '2' scrawled into the tarnished metal; Mikael slid the key into the lock on room two and pushed the door open. A small room with a single bed with a window over it and table greeted them, a basin of water sitting on the table along with a rough cloth folded and tossed haphazardly next to it.

Mikael stepped in and slung his knapsack to the floor, then leaned the staff carefully against the wall.

"_I need a bath," _Tal'Thera said with a soft chuckle behind him.

He smiled at her from over a shoulder. "_We passed a washroom at the top of the stairs."_

She nodded, moving passed him to grab the cloth by the basin then slipping out the door. Mikael began to strip off his armor, fingering tears in the leather and in his underclothes, mentally making a list of what would need replacing and what would only require repair.

He tossed the armor into a heap at the foot of the bed then turned to his pack, rummaging through it and pulling his last few shirts out - there were only two that hadn't been torn or ruined in some way or fashion, and Mikael tugged on one and laid the other on the foot of the bed. Tal'Thera had no extra clothing, maybe she'd want to wear it; and maybe tomorrow, early morning, he could take her to get clean robes.

The door clicked open quietly, and Mikael looked up as Tal'Thera slipped back in and shut the door behind her. Her hair was wet and clinging to her skull, and she was holding her robes closed around her, through which Mikael could see that she had the cloth too wrapped around her.

He cleared his throat, feeling a rush of heat, and numbly retrieved his spare shirt and held it out to her. She smiled and accepted it, and he turned his back to give her time to change; when he turned he saw his shirt on her was nearly knee-length on her, and he began to chuckle.

She tugged at the hem, smiling shyly. "_I suppose all I need is a belt."_

"_Are you hungry?"_

_ "No," _she answered. She came over and perched on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs and fidgeting slightly. "_Mikael...is this it, then?"_

_ "Is what it?"_

_ "Is this where we're forced back to our respective worlds?"_

He stood up and came to sit beside her, sliding an arm around her shoulders when she leaned in against him. "_I don't know."_

She was silent for a very long moment, before reaching up to clasp his hand in both of hers. "_If this is it, if this is the last night we have alone...the last night we'll ever have together..." _She looked up at him.

* * *

Later that night in a tangle of bare skin and sheets, they lay under the open window in the moonlight. Mikael kissed her bare shoulder, working his way up her neck until she turned to meet his lips with her own.

He tucked the sheet in around them and whispered goodnight.

* * *

The next morning they lounged in bed as long as they could before their stomachs finally drove them out; they dressed and left the room, pausing at the top of the stairs.

Tal'Thera slipped her hand into his, and they looked at one another in silence...then began to walk down the stairs. The only one downstairs was the goblin barkeep, standing behind his bar counting gold. He glanced up at them then quickly down.

Mikael immediately swung Tal'Thera around behind him, mere seconds before blood elves seem to spring from the very woodwork. Instinctively he reached for where Spellcleaver typically hung on his belt, then he swore softly when he realized he was weaponless. The ring of blood elves, seven in all and all armed and armored, tightened.

Tal'Thera's fingers dug into his hand and he heard her let out a frightened whimper. They were trapped on the stairs, halfway down, with two on the stairs above them and the rest in a loose semi-circle below; Mikael turned to put all of them in his line of sight, squeezing Tal'Thera's hand tightly in an attempt to reassure her.

"_You should have just run," _came a familiar voice from the far side of the room. "_Prolonged the moment."_

Mikael looked beyond the crowd of guards to see a slim figure stand up from a table in the corner. She was wearing the same black outfit she'd been wearing when he'd first met her in Silvermoon City, and she even had her pipe clenched in one hand trailing a thin line of smoke.

"_Arachne," _he growled.

"_What are you doing here?" _Tal'Thera asked, eyes wide.

"_I was sent on a little...pick-up errand." _Arachne went quiet, puffing on her pipe. "_You were spotted by my agents as soon as you stepped foot in this city. You are to be escorted back to Silvermoon City." _She blew a ring of smoke and looked at Mikael. "_He, however, stays."_

_ "No!"_

Arachne raised an eyebrow. "_No? But yes."_

Tal'Thera surged out from behind him. "_But his sword-! You can't separate us, you-"_

She squeaked as Mikael immediately yanked her back, just out of the reach of a guard as the blood elf lunged for her; he shoved her flat against the wall and pressed back against her, spreading his hands as flickers of fel fire danced between his fingers. "_Back up. All of you."_

_ "Are you THREATENING us, human?" _Arachne asked, laughing loudly. "_You honestly think the only forces I have with me are the ones you can see? Please Mikael, we both know our respective intelligences are much higher than that."_

_ "Back up, everyone. I will not ask again," _he repeated. The fire flared brighter, and Mikael glared directly at Arachne. "_If any of you move I will act to defend us."_

_ "You say that as though you have a choice. Move, human, or die," _Arachne said bluntly. "I _will not tell you again."_

Mikael stayed where he was, surveying the circle of guards, feeling Tal'Thera gripping his shoulders from behind. They weren't taking her, they were NOT.

Eyes flashing angrily, Arachne bodily shoved her way through the ring of guards, striding up to them and ignoring the hand Mikael pointed at her in warning.

"_Do you honestly think we won't kill you?"_

_ "Do you honestly think I'll let you take her without a fight?"_

She slapped his hand away and jabbed in with her pipe; Mikael leaned back and let it swish by, grabbing her wrist on the follow through and adding to her momentum, meaning to send her spinning passed him. She instead spun into his arm and thrust her elbow at his chin.

Mikael caught it with his other hand and shoved her back, aiming a kick at the backs of her knees meaning to send her flying off the stairs, but she leapt his leg and kicked out at him in return. Her foot shot into the empty space between his ankles, and he slammed his own knees together in time to trap her foot as it tried to come rushing up between his legs.

"_No, sorry," _he grunted, shoving an open palm into her middle and sending her flying off the stairs backwards. She flipped in midair and landed on her feet, turning to her guards. "_The next attacks won't be to harm, they will be to kill."_

"_Kill him!" _

_ "Very well," _Mikael growled, calling the fel fire back into being, turning first to the two standing on the stairs above them-

"_STOP!"_

Everyone froze at the scream, Mikael turning to see Tal'Thera slipping down the wall with her hands clawing at her hair.

"_STOP! STOP IT!"_

_ "Ignore her, kill him!"_

_ "No!" _Tal'Thera shrieked, peering at the guards from between her fingers.

They only paused a moment, looking to Arachne for confirmation. The female nodded sharply and they leapt together. Tal'Thera let out a wordless shriek and a shockwave of arcane energy radiated from her and slammed into the blood elves as they struck. They all fell back, knocked from their feet and, in the case of one, knocked through a table. Before they could recover fully thick ice materialized around their legs from ankle to mid-thigh, locking them in place. Mikael crouched slightly, lowering his center of gravity in the event one of the guards on the landing above him chanced the ice and leapt for him, biting his lower lip as he cursed his lack of a weapon. If they escaped the ice and attacked en masse he would have no choice but to cast to kill-

"_Arachne stop! I'm not leaving!"_

Arachne held up a hand, the guards ceasing their attempts to chip the ice from themselves and turning their attention to her.

"_You don't have a choice, Tal'Thera."_

_ "I do!" _Tal'Thera cried, beating her hands against the floor where she knelt. "_I do!"_

_ "You don't. You belong with us, and so back with us you are going."_

_ "You won't separate us, I won't let you!" _Tal'Thera snarled, surprising everyone. She glared at Arachne through her dishelved hair. "_I'll kill you...I'll kill you!"_

_ "Please, you're about as threatening as a kitten. You-"_

Arachne did indeed look surprised as the arcane bolt came her direction; she merely shut her eyes, the bolt coming close enough to shear off a few strands of hair before striking the wall and leaving a fist-sized scorch mark.

Tal'Thera stared at the female, a crazed look in her eyes; the guards held their breath, unsure and looking to Arachne for orders. Arachne finally opened her eyes, her mouth pressing into a thin line.

"_You are coming back with us."_

"_I would rather die," _Tal'Thera gasped, breathing heavily.

Mikael backed up and knelt beside her, taking one of her hands in both of his. "_There's no force in this world that's going to separate us," _he said quietly. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "_You'll have to kill us both."_

Tal'Thera crawled forward, wrapping arms around his middle and pressing her face into his stomach. He held her, rubbing his cheek against the top of her head, eying Arachne.

The blood elf female appeared to be grinding her teeth together, and as he watched she took a long pull off her pipe and blew a series of smoke rings into the air as the silence stretched on.

"_You're serious then? You're going to force me to kill one or both of you?"_

_ "Yes," _they both replied at the same time.

"_I'm not going anywhere unless Mikael is at my side."_

_ "I will burn Silvermoon to the ground if I must, to keep Tal'Thera with me."_

Arachne turned stiffly and stomped back to the table she'd been sitting at when they'd first come down the stairs. The goblin barkeep ducked nervously behind his bar as she passed but she paid him no mind, instead reaching the table and bending down behind it. She came up and spun gracefully, launching something through the air.

Mikael jerked away from it and whatever it was clattered to the stairs in front of them; it was a thin, long bundle wrapped in rough linen.

Arachne turned to the guards, clasping her hands behind her back. At the movement the ice disappeared, dispelled. "_Clear out."_

The guards sheathed their weapons and left, leaving Tal'Thera and Mikael staring after them in confusion. Arachne once again returned to her table and sat down, propping her feet up and puffing on her pipe. "_Get up, sit down."_

Cautiously Mikael stood and tugged Tal'Thera up with him, but the two stayed on the stairs. Arachne blew out a wild billow of smoke and rolled her eyes.

"_Get over here and sit, before I change my mind."_

Carefully the two crossed the room and sat down in the chairs across from the female. Silence fell and stretched on uncomfortably, then Arachne suddenly smiled smugly.

"_I told Lor'themar there was little chance of getting any other answer."_

_ "...what answer?" _Mikael asked after a moment.

"_Well, obviously, the answer as to whether Tal'Thera is coming back. I told him she wouldn't be." _She tapped her pipe on the edge of the table and sent a shower of sparks falling to the floor. "_I knew this would be the outcome, I've known since the day you two appeared in my shop. Love is like a disease...there are certain, unmistakable symptoms. Once you know the symptoms, you can diagnose the disease." _She studied the empty bowl of her pipe, smiling at them over it. "_I told Lor'themar as much, but he wanted to be sure."_

"_What do you mean?" _Tal'Thera asked breathily, staring at her.

"_I mean, what you just saw? Was all show, my dear. I never intended to take you back with me...in fact, and don't tell Lor'themar, but I meant what I said when I first spoke up earlier."_

Mikael looked at her, unsure. "_What you said...? You mean...that we should have run?"_

_ "Well, you know, deceased people don't run," _Arachne said slyly.

"_You would have claimed...evidence of our deaths?" _Tal'Thera asked, eyes widening.

"_Look, sweet heart," _Arachne said, leaning forward. She rested her elbows on the table, lacing her fingers together and resting her chin on them. "_I was prepared to return and tell Lor'themar whatever I needed to. I know...what it's like to find love, and I know what it's like to lose it. I make my living off manipulation and lies, but there are certain things in life you really can't lie about or manipulate."_

She nodded toward the object she'd thrown earlier, still laying on the stairs untouched. "_There lay the only reason you had to go back in the first place. I'll figure out something to tell Lor'themar." _Arachne stood and walked around the table, tapping her pipe against her palm as she headed for the door.

In the doorway she turned, grinning at them. "_After all, I do make my living on being a really, really good liar."_

_ "W-what of the guards?" _Tal'Thera stammered, half-standing and making as though she was reaching for the departing female.

"_What guards?" _came the reply as the black-clad female disappeared through the door.

For what seemed like an eternity, Mikael and Tal'Thera simply sat at the tiny table, looking at one another in varying states of confusion and surprise. Finally, Tal'Thera slowly stood and looked around.

"_I'm...I don't have to go back...I'm free."_

_ "Free to go where you wish..." _Mikael said quietly, looking up at her.

"_Free to live as I want. Where I want," _she murmured, sounding dazed. She spun in a slow circle, staring into every corner of the room as though seeing it for the first time, then she gazed down at Mikael. "_I'm not still asleep, am I?"_

_ "We're both clothed, so I'm going to go with not likely."_

She spun around, staring at him in shock, then saw the grin on his face and flushed a bright red. "_I - you - that isn't funny!"_

He came up out of his seat, grabbing her in a hug and spinning her around laughing; she squealed and pounded her fists against his chest.

"_Put me down!"_

He thumped her back to her feet and planted a kiss on her forehead. "_So?"_

_ "So?" _she repeated.

"_So, where do you wish to go? I will take you anywhere you want!" _he exclaimed. He took her hands in his, squeezing her fingers gently. "_Anywhere."_

She stared at him, jaw hanging open and eyes wide. "_This is...this is a lot to take in. How can you be so calm about this?"_

Mikael was grinning broadly, and laughed after she spoke. "_Calm? I'm happier than I've been in years, and you call this calm? You're free! Your life is yours!"_

_ "I know that..." _she said, pulling a hand free and pressing it to her forehead. "_Did you not think this result would be a little...overwhelming?"_

_ "Possibly, but this is what you wanted. ...this _is _what you wanted, right?" _he added, suddenly looking solemn.

"_What I...wanted..." _she whispered, staring at the floor, her hair sliding forward to hide her face.

She was silent for several moments, and she felt Mikael's grip on her hands lessen just slightly; she looked up at him through her hair, saw the worried expression on his face.

Then, her stomach audibly growled.

"_What I want is you, a table, and a large breakfast," _she said finally, brushing her hair from her face and beaming up at him. Mikael's smile returned, then blossomed into a laugh that she echoed, throwing herself into his arms and hugging him tightly.

Behind them, barely heard, the goblin barkeep was peering over the top of the bar. "_Someone's going to pay for that table, you know."_

Finally they broke apart; Mikael paid the goblin for the broken table and for a quick meal. After they'd eaten they went to return upstairs to retrieve Mikael's things, and they stopped when they realized Arachne's package still lay on the stairs.

Mikael carefully picked it up and gasped, knowing from the weight and feel exactly what it was. Tal'Thera took the wrapping cloth from him and folded it neatly as Mikael put Spellcleaver in its customary place on his belt, gently patting the blade and smiling; then, with Tal'Thera hanging off his arm, he led the way back up to room number two.


	22. Chapter 22

The air was wet and smelled fresh, and the sand beneath their bare feet was hot but not uncomfortably so. With the sun above them they had quickly shed their outer clothing and walked hand in hand in their undershirts and pants, Mikael carrying both Tal'Thera's new robe and his repaired leather armor slung over a shoulder, each carrying their shoes in their other hands. The sea water lapped around their ankles, cool and foamy, and the two took every chance they had to splash the other, laughing.

Slung across his back Mikael carried the sinewy staff that had once been Datavian's. While walking along Stranglethorn's beaches was certainly enjoyable, considering the present company, the true reason they were out here was a little more...solemn.

Sand stretched out seemingly endlessly in front of them with the darker smudge of trees on the horizon marking the encroaching jungle; the water became a deep blue the further one looked, topped with white crests of foam and the occasional water bird. There was no one here but them - this would be as good a spot as any.

Mikael let Tal'Thera's hand drop and handed her the clothing and armor tossed over his shoulder; she held it to her chest, watching silently as Mikael held up the staff, studying it.

"_You know, I never really got a good look at this thing," _he said after a moment. "_I was always...occupied with other thoughts." _

The staff itself, he could see now, was far more intricate than he had noticed before. Its surface was leathery to the touch, and its top section looked like three insect-like, diamond shaped segments shoved together. The corners of the diamond shape bore what appeared to be tiny claw-like inlays - they looked sharp and he had no intention of testing to see if they really were. The yellow gem was nested in a fleshy socket at the tip, and for a moment Mikael was reminded of an eyesocket and thought that the staff could, if it wanted to, blink at him.

Shuddering slightly, Mikael took several steps away from Tal'Thera and rested the staff across extended hands, breathing deeply and slowly.

Deftly he tossed it up into the air; time seemed to slow as the staff lifted and spun lazily, and in the time it took to reach its apex and then begin to fall he had drawn Spellcleaver and slashed it, two-handed, over his head. He struck the staff in the approximate center and neatly sliced it in half, the two pieces falling to the sand at his feet, several feet apart.

He paused, then reversed his grip and slammed the tip of Spellcleaver down into the gem.

With a brief flare of light the gem cracked, then shattered completely and left the socket full of crystal splinters and a smoking ruin.

Mikael turned back to Tal'Thera, sheathing Spellcleaver. "_I always told myself that, had I ever found him, I would have given him a proper burial. I don't have a body to return to the earth, but..."_

Tal'Thera nodded and came forward, linking her fingers with his. He smiled down at her, glanced over at the broken staff on the sand, and gestured. Flickering green flame sprang up, engulfing the staff and setting it on fire, the flames fading away to be replaced with natural red flame. They watched in silence as the staff was reduced to ashes and the flames went out; Mikael stepped forward and kicked the ash and sand into the surf and watched as it was borne away.

Tal'Thera bent and picked up their clothes, handing him his armor. He nodded to her and pulled it on, then held open her robes so she could slip her arms in. When they were both clothed again and had their shoes back on, they turned and headed back to Booty Bay.

Mikael paused once to look back, his mind again thinking on the disembodied eyes...he had never found Datavian's body...

* * *

Halduron lowered the spyglass. "_They are returning. Do they ever plan on leaving?"_

Behind him Arachne lounged on a pile of rope coils and folded sails. "_Anxious to return to Silvermoon?"_

_ "You know I am."_

_ "Need I remind you that our extended presence here is solely your fault?"_

He looked over his shoulder at her, annoyed. "_Need I remind you that you are outright refusing to complete your given orders?"_

Arachne stretched and produced her pipe from its hiding place, lighting it and taking a long draw. "_I will tell you the same as I told Lor'themar. Those two are in love. It would be a crime to separate them."_

_ "We were ordered to-"_

_ "Forget our orders," _Arachne said firmly. "_You saw how serious she was. During her absence our dear mage grew herself a backbone, threatening to kill friends over the life of her lover! Forcing her to return to Silvermoon City would cause more problems than it would be solving."_

Halduron returned to looking through the spyglass. On their rooftop vantage point they could just see the two returning through the main gate of Booty Bay, the human and blood elf smiling and talking to one another, hand in hand. He watched as they pushed their way through the crowd, heading back to their inn. "_What do you propose we do then? We cannot simply go back and tell the Regent Lord that we refused his orders on account of love."_

_ "Halduron, my dear," _Arachne purred, rolling over to her stomach and closing her eyes. "_Let me explain something to you. When a female loves, she will do anything to preserve that love. It is the same thing that drives a woman to die for her children. Look at them...their love is sweet and pure, it makes ones' teeth hurt to even look at them. Separating them would be cruel, not to mention it would utterly destroy our little mage."_

_ "What?" _Halduron snapped, slamming the spyglass into his thigh to collapse it.

"_It's simple, Halduron. If she threatened to kill me, the one person who could even be remotely considered her closest friend, what do you believe she may find herself capable of if she is dragged back to Silvermoon?"_

_ "You believe she may harm herself?"_

_ "Or others. I do believe, very strongly at that, that she will at the least become useless to us. What reason would she have to live, being separated from her one true love?" _Arachne took another deep drag off her pipe. "_Besides, Lor'themar has only continued the mistake of Prince Kael'thas."_

Halduron slid the collapsed spyglass into a pocket. _"What mistake?"_

_ "Sequestering Tal'Thera was possibly the worst decision anyone could have made," _Arachne said coolly, studying the bowl of her pipe. "_I know Kael'thas was hoping that her particular talent may prove useful in finding a cure for our magical addiction, but he was badly misguided in thinking that shutting her away would be the answer. Sure, she wants for nothing. Certainly, she has all the knowledge of our race at her fingertips...but it's only _our _knowledge. She is kept away from other mages, from other discoveries and techniques used by magic users of the world. Azeroth is a very big place, and with the addition of Outland to the picture the possibility for knowledge is seemingly endless, but _we are keeping her locked away from this information!"

Halduron rolled his eyes and stood. "_While I imagine Lor'themar would understand, I still do not see him being happy with us when we return empty-handed."_

_ "Yes, but when Tal'Thera returns triumphant with a cure for our people in hand, I believe all shall be forgiven," _she chuckled. She stood and stretched, then reached over and ran a finger up Halduron's neck and tickled his chin. "_And besides...you are missing the wonderful gift I have given our people."_

He slapped her hand away, snorting in disgust. _"What gift?"_

_ "He will no doubt take her back to his home, in Stormwind. It may take time for acceptance of her presence, but I have just effectively placed a pair of eyes and ears within the human kingdom that others will be focusing on, rather than the actual agents I have there instead. They are welcome to focus on Tal'Thera all they like – our true eyes and ears will suffer less scrutiny, and our information network is now more secure because of."_

"_We're leaving," _he growled after a moment, nimbly leaping down from rooftop to rooftop and disappearing into the crowd, heading for the docks.

Arachne tapped out her pipe, stowing it away and bending to peer down into the crowd, seeking not Halduron but the heads of Mikael and Tal'Thera. She didn't spot them but she smiled nonetheless.

"_Good luck, little mage."_

* * *

Catwissa had said goodbye, wholly ignoring Pit's stuttered protests, and had sank back into the tree they had just exited from. Pit stared at the tree a good long moment, mentally sighing heavily.

She'd dropped him, seemingly, into the middle of nowhere, somewhere in the Barrens. The place he knelt in felt familiar but he didn't really recognize it - why had she dumped him here? He hadn't the faintest idea of _where _in the Barrens he was, so how could she expect him to find his way back to a city when-

He heard a footstep behind him, and a noise of surprise, and he turned to see a green eyed, white and brown-patterned female tauren standing behind him. Her hair was black, as were the small horns curving forward on either side of her head, and she was wearing a dress of tanned animal hides, decorated with teal strips of cloth in the bodice and with beading around the neckline; for a moment she merely stared at him, then she smiled warmly.

"_I feared the worst when I heard you never made it to your destination."_

_ "W-whisper?" _he stuttered, staring at her dumbly as she came to kneel beside him and run careful fingers over the still-pink scar running down his face. "_How did you know I'd be here?"_

"_I knew," _was all she said, briefly covering her face with a hand and wincing.

Pit grimaced. "_I know the smell of my demonic taint hurts you. You shouldn't insist on staying with me."_

She fluttered her fingers, sending waves of green light at the blood elf that fell over him and then disappeared. Immediately Pit felt better, a tiredness he hadn't noticed disappearing under the healing nature magic. "_You know that I have my ways of masking it. I do not care that your taint makes your presence mildly uncomfortable for those of my race, you are my friend...and it appears you need me, as always," _she added, chuckling as she took in his torn robes, his disheveled appearance and his still-visible scars and partially healed injuries.

He smiled sheepishly, shaking his head. "_I do seem to need you to patch me up on a regular basis, don't I?"_

She gestured, a sort of 'what can you do?' look on her face. Pit only half-heartedly protested when she tugged him down so his head rested in her lap. "_Just...be certain that there's enough of you left to put back together, yes? I would be very sad if you passed on."_

He chuckled, closing his eyes as she rested her hands on his shoulder. "_You know I'll always come back to you, Whisper. You won't ever be rid of me that easily."_

"_Tell me, what has happened to my Ki'tyrn since he disappeared?" _she asked, petting his hair with one hand and studying the scar on his face with the other.

He smiled - she was the only one who consistently called him by his given name - and waited until her fingers moved enough for him to speak without it coming out muffled. "_A great deal, it'd take the entire afternoon to tell."_

_ "I always have time for you."_

_ "Well then," _he said slowly, reaching up to slip his goggles off and then lay them in the grass in front of him. "_Believe it or not it began when I fell asleep beneath a tree."_

* * *

Catwissa nimbly leapt from the tree, steeling herself for her final task.

In front of her was a dwelling built from mud and animal skins stretched over a wooden frame. She could see where an outdoor cooking pit had been dug out, with a hooked tripod settled over it - there was a fire going and a heavy iron pot hanging over the flames from the tripod, steaming and sending the smell of boiling meat floating on the air. Closer to the building itself were several racks that held various things: one held partially-woven cloth, one had cured hides tacked to it, another held drying herbs and bundles of vegetables. All in all it was a clean, well-kept dwelling that had a homey feel to it, a comfort that pulled her in and made her want to remain.

She hated what she had to do now.

As she finally began walking toward the dwelling a female troll came out of it. The female was clad in a simple linen dress, clean and tidy despite how simple it truly was, and she was carrying a basket of chopped raw vegetables on her hip. As Catwissa watched she walked up to the pot, then finally looked up and saw Catwissa standing there.

The basket hit the ground, its contents scattering in the dirt, and the female gave the priestess a look of utter loathing and hatred.

"_He's not here," _she said quickly.

Catwissa swallowed, then shook her head. "_I know you are lying, aunt. I'm sorry."_

_ "Leave, priestess," _the other female said quietly. A warning.

"_I cannot, and you know I cannot."_

Catwissa walked forward, steeled against a blow she didn't quite think would be coming, but as she walked by her aunt the other female merely stood still and let her pass without a further word. Quietly, Catwissa approached the dwelling and was startled when she suddenly heard loud laughter.

"_An' den, an' den I says ta 'im, 'look mon, I said da voodoo, I didn't say nuttin 'bout any kodo poo-!'"_

More laughter, one a voice she recognized and the other deeper, someone she didn't know. Carefully she peered through the doorway and saw her uncle and a male tauren sitting in the floor, mugs of some heavily scented mead in their hands, both rip-roaring drunk and laughing up a storm. Her uncle was slapping his knees at his own story, sloshing some of his drink over his hand while his tauren friend downed the rest of his mug in two gulps and went to refill it from the small cask sitting in the floor between them.

Her uncle raised his mug to his lips and, over the rim, spied her standing in the doorway. He jerked the mug away from his face so quickly that he spilled a great deal of liquid down his front.

"_Whaddaya doin' here?" _he snapped, sobriety setting in immediately.

The tauren looked up at her in confusion as Catwissa came into the room with a deep breath.

"_Hello, uncle Kakum."_

_ "Whaddaya doin' here?" _Kakum repeated sharply, now beginning to brush at the alcohol seeping into his shirt.

"_You should be able to guess," _she said quietly.

Kakum inhaled deeply, then blew it out in a huff. "_Ya, I bet I know." _He looked at the tauren, then jerked his head toward the door. "_Sorry Brocko, needa moment."_

_ "I understand. I need to pee anyhow," _the tauren said cheerfully, still very drunk. He hauled himself up off the floor and staggered toward the door, nearly falling over Catwissa as he stumbled passed her and disappeared from sight around the side of the dwelling.

Catwissa came in and took Brock's seat in the floor, and Kakum wasted no time, whirling on her. "_What da HELL ya doin' here? I tol' Jakani I not part o' dat anymore. I don' wan' no Path, no family, no nuttin ta do wit-"_

_ "My father is dead," _Catwissa interrupted. "_Two of the trees are dead."_

_ "I don' care!" _Kakum snapped. "_I gave it up! I can't hop tru trees anymore! I've left da Path for good." _

He stood and began to pace back and forth. "_Why are you even here?"_

_ "Jakani wanted you to become chieftain when he died."_

_ "No!" _Kakum said, stopping and stomping a foot like a child in a temper tantrum. "_I told him an' I be tellin' you. I not gonna do it mon."_

Catwissa reached into her pocket and pulled out the tiny bit of heartseed that had once belong to Jakani, holding it up so Kakum could see it. He shied away from it, refusing to look at it.

"_He wanted you to take over for him," _Catwissa said. "_He told me as much before he died."_

_ "How'd he die?" _Kakum asked then, quietly.

"_How he always wanted to - fighting. He was forced to destroy a tree, the effort killed him."_

Kakum sighed and came back, sitting down and holding out a hand. Catwissa tipped the heartseed fragment into his palm and he hefted it, then poked at it with a finger. "_I always knew he was an idiot." _He closed his fist over it. "_Dat doesn' mean I intend ta take over."_

_ "Jakani knew that, and he still named you as his successor."_

_ "Why?"_

_ "He...hinted that something bad is about to happen," _she said, studying the floor in front of her. "_He wouldn't tell me what it was, only that we needed a new sort of leadership in order to survive."_

_ "New sort o' leadership my skinny ass," _Kakum snorted. "_I can't be chief. I can't. I not part o' da Path, I can't serve as spiritual leader."_

_ "We need a leader," _Catwissa said firmly. "_The least you can do is honor my father's last wish and try, see if you're accepted back."_

_ "And if I don' wanna be accepted back?"_

She smiled thinly. "_Then the Path disappears from this planet, and our dead goddess' memory will be forgotten."_

Kakum tossed the seed back at her, running a hand through his hair. "_So ya be askin' me ta either make or break da Path. Great. Tanks. Really."_

Catwissa chuckled. "_If my father really thought you weren't the one needed, he would not have told me to seek you out."_

_ "Why me? He got udder family."_

_ "You've been living away from the rest of us, you know the outside world better than any. Your connection with the night elf Doraen Oakmoon and his family could prove invaluable to-"_

_ "Shaddup, I'm tinking," _Kakum said wearily, rubbing his hands over his face. "_I not as sober as ya tink."_

_ "Will you do it?"_

Kakum grit his teeth to the point his entire face tensed up. "_...I can' even get back to da tree, Catwissa. Dere ain't no way-"_

_ "I'll take you," _she said, leaning forward. "_Jakani wanted you for this. It was the last thing he said before he died."_

_ "Why me?" _Kakum muttered. He refilled his mug and downed it moments afterward, going back again - Catwissa yanked the mug from his hand and frowned at him. "_Why?"_

_ "He must have had his reasons, uncle. Will you come?"_

_ "Wat da hell you tink?!" _he yelled at her. "_I'll leave in da mornin' now get da hell outta my house!"_

Catwissa left without another word, ignoring the outright venomous look her aunt gave her as she scurried away. Outside the dwelling, leaning against the wall and with no sign of having relieved himself, the tauren Brock watched her curiously before getting up and heading back inside.

* * *

_Datavian was waiting for him, wrapped in pale blue robes and barefoot, sitting next to the lake they fished in as children. He was bald, his beard neatly trimmed, and he had a gaunt look to him. He looked up as Mikael approached, smiling almost shyly._

_ "Hello brother."_

_ Mikael sat down next to him silently, staring out over the water. "No tormenting me?"_

_ Datavian smiled thinly, then shook his head. "No. That was never me. It's always so easy to fabricate a nightmare of the worst kind when you understand your enemy's hopes and fears."_

_ Mikael leaned back in the grass, staring up at the sky. "I don't understand." He looked at him. "You've been tormenting me in the dreams for five years...and yet here I am, talking to you. It's like nothing happened...I _wish_ nothing had happened." He fell silent for a moment, then "I don't understand this."_

_ "I know you don't. But you will someday." Datavian seized a handful of grass and let the blades fall from his fingers. "I don't have much time, so listen and listen well."_

_ "I'm listening."_

_ "You need to run, brother. Run as far as you can, and when you feel you cannot run any further? Dig. Dig deep, hide yourself. Disappear from the world completely. Leave everything behind, and hide."_

_ Mikael stared at him a moment, then shook his head. "Why?"_

_ "I can't tell you, not right now, not without alerting...her. Just-" he sucked in a breath, closing his eyes. "My time is very short. Please brother, I'm begging you. Run."_

_ "I can't. I won't. What is wrong?"_

_ "Brother..."_

_ Mikael stood, seeking along the very edge of the water for a stone. When he found a smooth one he expertly skipped it across the water's surface, counting the ripples left behind. Turning, he saw Datavian staring aimlessly out over the lake, and he moved to block the man's view. "Datavian, what is it? You are telling me to run, yet not telling me why. I don't even know why I'm speaking to you, you've done nothing but haunt my dreams and accuse me at every turn for so long...is this some sort of trick?"_

_ Datavian's smile faded into one tinged with sadness. "No trick brother, not this time. For once, this is truly me. I have not...been myself for a very long time. I know asking you to trust me sounds foolish, especially after everything that has happened, but I'm asking you to do so now. Please, just..."_

_ "I can't run from something I have no name for."_

_ "If I tell you, she will know."_

_ "She? She who?"_

_ "If I speak her name, she'll-"_

_ "She'll know, I get it," Mikael sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I can't run, Datavian. I wouldn't know where to go, and I've...I've found love, and I'm not about to give that up. Not for anything, not even you."_

_ Datavian chuckled, then sighed heavily. "No, I suppose you wouldn't, and I suppose I should have foreseen that you wouldn't hide yourself away."_

_ "What's happening?"_

_ "I don't know, not yet. But I promise you this: in your hour of need, I will be there at your side." A pause. "I have so much to atone for..."_

_ Mikael gazed at him evenly for several long moments, Datavian staring at the grass at his feet. Finally, Datavian looked up and smiled._

_ "My time is up, I must go before I am noticed."_

_ He stood, coming forward to rest his hands on Mikael's shoulders. "Take care of yourself, brother."_

_ Mikael shook his head, then bowed his head and took a deep breath. "...you too, brother."_

_ Datavian let his hands drop and stepped back, turning and beginning to walk along the lake shore._

_ "It will be different," he called over his shoulder to Mikael, "adjusting to freedom."_

_ "Freedom..." Mikael whispered, watching until his brother seemed to fade away before his eyes._

* * *

Mikael woke up, the dream of his brother already gone from his mind, replaced with a feeling of deep contentment that he hadn't felt in ages. Shifting he felt that Tal'Thera still clung to him, and he tucked the blankets in around them and settled his head back into the pillows, closing his eyes and smiling.

Against him Tal'Thera murmured in her sleep, into his chest. It was a noise that he had become familiar with over the several days they had spent recuperating in Booty Bay - she would be waking soon. Idly he stroked a finger down her face, as amazed this morning as he was every morning when he realized that this beautiful creature was his own.

A quarter of an hour later Tal'Thera stirred and sat up, smoothing her hair as Mikael smiled up at her.

"_Good morning."_

_ "Good morning," _she replied, leaning to kiss him.

He caught her and pulled her close, kissing a line from her mouth down her neck to her bare shoulder. She squealed and swatted at him, rolling out of bed and dragging the blanket with her, leaving him laying naked on the mattress. Padding on bare feet to where her clothing lay folded, she turned a moment and eyed Mikael, grinning behind a hand.

He saw her staring and raised an eyebrow. "_You are not as innocent as you pretend to be."_

_ "No. I am merely comfortable with you...and happy," _she replied. Letting the blanket slide to the floor she retrieved clothing and began to dress.

Mikael got to his feet and retrieved his pants from where he'd tossed them the night before. "_So, my lady, where would you like to go?"_

Tal'Thera paused in pulling on her robes. "_Go?"_

_ "Yes, go," _he chuckled, coming over to kiss her on top of her head before stepping around her to grab a shirt. "_You said you wanted to travel, and I intend to take you wherever you wish to go. Name a place, and we will go together."_

She eyed his bare back, eyes tracing along the brilliantly glowing naaru marks down his spine. Vividly she remembered how those markings felt, and more...she remembered the wrongness of the feeling. Something was using those marks to do something...but what?

"_...Outland," _she said softly.

Mikael paused, shirt halfway over his head. "_Excuse me?"_

_ "Outland. We should - no. We _are _going to Outland."_

He pulled on his shirt and stood, looking down at her in confusion. "_Why Outland?"_

"_Those markings on your back...we are going to return to whoever placed those on you, and we are going to find out what they're truly for."_

_ "I know what they're for," _he said, brow furrowing. "_They prevent me from drawing directly from the power of ley lines, I have to pull from other sources. It's like drinking from a tiny stream, versus the entire sea."_

She shook her head, spinning him around and running her hands up the back of his shirt, fingering the markings and recognizing the arcane tingling as her fingers brushed them. "_No, they are...something more. There is something more here."_

Mikael shook his head. "_No, A'dal told me..."_

_ "A'dal?"_

_ "The naaru, in Shattrath. He told me what they were for."_

_ "Then they've been altered by some outside force and he must be told!" _she insisted. "_We are going to Outland!"_

He kissed her forehead, pulling her into a hug. "_If that is what you wish."_

_ "It is."_

Holding her out at arm's length, he gently squeezed her shoulders. "_Then that is where we'll go."_

* * *

Her footsteps echoing in the empty cavern was her only other company aside from the servant who hunched at her side. Shattered crystal littered the ground around the based of the destroyed tree, but she smiled.

"That was close."

"The tree is a sad loss. It was a source of great power," the servant muttered.

"Not nearly so great as the warlock. He has progressed to the point where no one – not the elven priestess, not the orc shaman – can remove the power, or hope to block it. The time to finally act is upon us. We begin at dawn."

"Yes, mistress."

She smiled over her shoulder at him.

* * *

The wolf loped easily through the forest, stopping to sniff now and then as he tracked his intended prey. It was not far now, as the scent was growing stronger, and the strong smell of wet earth was beginning to mix in with it - he was heading for a source of water, probably a small pond or maybe a stream, as he was close to both this far out in the woods.

It turned out to be a stream, and his intended target was standing by it. There was a cluster of bushes nearby, within one being a pile of folded clothing, and the wolf slid into the shelter of the bush and hunched down, ears perked up.

The draenei male was concentrating, sweating, and was covered in mud. As the wolf watched the draenei went into a casting, and the earth around his feet rippled and began to move, inching up over his body in a viscous mass. Now the male began to tremble, and the momentum of the mud slowed, then fell off him in a pile.

He dropped to his knees, panting and shaking, and the wolf sprung from its hiding place.

The draenei looked up sharply, then smiled.

"I didn't notice you Darae, I'm sorry," Sevei said, his voice dripping with exhaustion.

The wolf wagged its tail then the fur melted away to reveal the kneeling form of a night elf youth. He was dressed in light leather tunic and pants, both a dark brown and nearly the shade of the mud clinging to the shaman.

"Still haven't done it?" he asked, shifting into a cross-legged position.

Sevei shook his head wearily. "No, I haven't."

Ever since the battle in the well, Sevei had been trying to replicate the spell that had turned the earth itself into the strongest armor he'd ever worn. His troll spirit guides had refused to tell him the trick, telling him to puzzle it out on his own, and so for almost a year now Sevei had been trying to discover how to make it work. He could call the earth to him and harden it, but then he couldn't move. If he wanted to move, he had to soften the armor and then it wasn't armor at all. He wasn't certain where the happy medium was supposed to be regarding the earthen armor, and so he kept trying until exhausted day after day.

Darae stood and brushed his pants off. "M-mother sent me to get you, they're here."

Sevei nodded and waded out into the stream, ducking under the water to wash all the mud off himself, then he came back to the shore and retrieved his clothing. Darae shrank back down into his wolf form and padded along at the shaman's - his adoptive father's - side.

When Sevei, dry and clothed, entered the doorway of their home he wasn't surprised to see company sitting in their living room.

Saliea, sitting in a low chair, stood up and came to kiss him in greeting; he returned the kiss then looked around her to smile at their company.

"It is good to see you again."

Mikael grinned. "You too, my friend."

The warlock, dressed in a loose white shirt and his usual black leather pants and boots, sat on their small couch, and Sevei's gaze shifted to the female sitting beside him. It appeared to be a night elf woman, though painfully slender and with white hair; Sevei bowed slightly to her.

"I trust you're well, Tal'Thera?"

The disguised blood elf nodded silently. She was tucked under Mikael's arm, resting across the back of the couch, and in her arms she held a cloth bundle that had a tiny little arm sticking out of it, flailing.

"You have a beautiful daughter," Tal'Thera said quietly, extending a finger to the little hand and smiling gently as tiny fingers wrapped around it. The girl, named Catri, looked entirely night elven, with the sole exception of her eyes - instead of the silvery or golden eyes of her mother's race, the baby's eyes glowed a brilliant blue like her father's. The girl's hair was a mint green, her skin tone the same pale bluish-purple as Saliea's; Tal'Thera waggled the finger the girl held gently, looking up at Mikael.

"She's adorable all right," Mikael added. "I imagine she'll be spoiled rotten."

"That would be entirely her father's fault," Saliea said dryly, pulling away from Sevei and returning to her chair. Sevei pretended to look hurt, then laughed and shrugged before heading into their bedroom to change into clean clothing.

Later that evening, after they had eaten, Saliea found herself sitting outside with Mikael while the others remained indoors. Tal'Thera once again held Catri, and was chatting quietly with Sevei, talking about her travels with Mikael while Darae sat nearby and listened.

Mikael looked inside, smiling fondly. "Catri's adorable, Saliea...and I hear you've another on the way," he added, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Saliea's stomach.

Saliea nodded. "I can't be certain yet, but I believe I am." She shifted herself in her seat, a wrought-iron stool that matched the one Mikael sat in across from her. "So tell me...how are you?"

"I'm doing well. I'm doing amazing," he said, laughing.

"Have you married her yet? I expect to be invited to the wedding," Saliea chuckled.

Mikael's face tinged red, but he shook his head. "Not yet...I haven't decided how to tell my father yet, nor how I want to propose to her. I want to do something special for her, she deserves it."

"I don't believe she's the type to be expecting something extravagant," Saliea laughed.

"I know I know...I just feel like I should," he said sheepishly. "And besides, we don't have a permanent home yet. What sort of husband would I make if I didn't provide a place to call home?"

"Mikael, you'll make a wonderful husband," Saliea said firmly. "If Tal'Thera didn't enjoy traveling with you, and enjoy your company, then I highly doubt she'd still be with you."

"Yeah," he mused. "I'll admit I was rather worried she'd grow bored with me...but it's strange, love is. It's like..."

"It's as though two halves of the same soul have come together," Saliea said quietly. "You feel complete, and know in your heart that no other person in the world will do."

"Yes, exactly that," he chuckled. "A soul mate."

They sat in comfortable silence a moment, then he cleared his throat. "Did you ever find Darae's family?"

Saliea nodded. "We located an aunt and uncle, but they're military people and had no time for child. Darae stayed with us, and...eventually, it just became a fit, you know? We formally adopted him to make it official, but it happened long before that, if that makes sense."

"It does, in a way. And he's happy with this?"

Saliea laced her fingers together and rested her hands in her lap, studying them. "I don't pretend that we'll ever replace his true parents in his heart, but...Sevei and I have come to love him as though he's our own flesh and blood. If he is content to call us mother and father, we are overjoyed to have him as our son." She looked over her shoulder, at her house. "You should see him with Catri, he adores her. He'll be an amazing big brother to her, or so he tells me," she said with a chuckle.

Now she leaned forward. "And now you tell ME...how are...you?"

Mikael stood and untucked his shirt from his pants and turned around, lifting it up to reveal his bare back.

His entirely bare back.

"A'dal redid the seal," he said a moment later, jumping when he felt Saliea's fingers prodding the flesh of his back directly over his spine. "He was worried when Tal'Thera told him of what she felt within the seal, and so he redid it. Tal'Thera probed it and found no sign of any further magical monitoring. As you can obviously tell, the markings aren't visible anymore, unless-"

He paused, reaching around to press his fingers to his back and whisper a small spell. His fingers lit up with violet light and his skin reacted to it, the naaru markings becoming visible. After a few seconds he pulled his hand away and the markings went invisible once more.

"A very powerful burst of magical energy will cause them to become visible, but only so long as they remain in contact with that magic," he said, letting his shirt drop down over his back. "A'dal assures me this is normal for these markings."

"What did he say about the ones you had before? What exactly was wrong with them?"

Mikael sat back down, propping an arm on a knee and resting his chin in his hand. "Tal'Thera claimed someone was watching me through them, and...I have to agree with her. During my fight with Jin'Loki, I saw the person watching me - er, well, saw their eyes that is. They were indeed watching me. I don't know why, but A'dal says it likely has to do with my affliction. I am now sealed though, without interference, and can't become powerful enough to be any danger, and when he was resealing me he found traces of the spell used to watch me, but no sign of the person. Whoever it was isn't watching me now, and I dare them to try," he growled. "A'dal has placed wards over me, so if anyone tries that again both the naaru and I will instantly know. He is of the opinion that now that I'm sealed, the one major reason anyone would care to keep tabs on me is now gone."

"I certainly hope so."

Mikael nodded. "So do I. I want to just...live a quiet life, with Tal'Thera, raise a family. I want to be normal. No more seeking adventure for me, when I find a place to settle that's it."

Saliea laughed. "You sound like an elder."

"They do say elders are wise," Mikael said dryly, standing. He looked inside in time to see Tal'Thera standing and crossing the room, handing Catri over to her father. "I've finally found something worth preserving," he added in a whisper.

Saliea patted his shoulder. "Come inside, now that the children are heading for bed the adults can finally have some time to talk."

Mikael threw an arm around her and together the two walked inside.


End file.

Warcraft