moonshadows

Zul’vii wandered through the still-forming Illidari camp, admiring the ruined kaldorei architecture of the long-abandoned city they’d cleared out and claimed. Now and then she touched a night elf or naga on the shoulder, healing minor wounds and strengthening their spirits. Illidan was closeted with Kael’thas and Vashj, discussing fortifications and defenses, leaving her free to explore as she pleased. A part of her missed the days when she would be expected to return to his side regularly to tend his wound. She’d thought that once they bonded, he’d open up to her a little, but no – nothing had changed between them, not really. Only the fact that his life did not hang in the balance.

A little discouraged, she leaped at a low-hanging branch and swung herself easily up into the tainted, but still thriving, tree. Her father’s heritage served her well, and within moments she was perched on a high branch, watching the bustling camp from above. Several minutes passed quite peacefully before the soft thunder of large wings sounded close by, and a very large bird with grey and black feathers landed on a branch close to hers. It looked at her intently for a moment, then shifted and became a male night elf with green hair, golden eyes, a thick beard, and antlers.

“I hope I did not startle you,” he said in a deep, vibrant voice. “I have heard much about you, Zul’vii, and I wished to see you for myself. Ishnu-alah, star-born.”

“Ishnu dal dieb,” the troll replied warily. “Who are you?”

“Forgive me for not introducing myself: Malfurion Stormrage, Archdruid of the Cenarian Circle.”

This isn’t going to end well. “I don’t think I should be talking to you,” Zul’vii said slowly. “I don’t think you should even be here at all.”

The druid frowned. “Why not?”

“Illidan isn’t very happy with you.”

“He is not happy with me?”

“You were the one that had him locked up for ten thousand years, weren’t you?”

Malfurion scowled. “Did he tell you why he was imprisoned?”

Zul’vii thought for a moment. “Actually, no. He didn’t.”

“Our world was nearly destroyed by the Burning Legion ten thousand years ago. Magic drew them to us, arcane magic fueled by the Well of Eternity. We managed to drive the demons away and destroyed the Well at the same time, but unbeknownst to us Illidan had hidden away vials of the Well’s waters. He poured them into a lake at the top of Mount Hyjal, re-creating the Well in miniature.”

The troll waited for an explanation as to why this was such a horrible thing, but none was forthcoming. “So…the demons came back?”

The druid blinked. “No, they did not. We gave up arcane magic as a race after seeing what it did to our world.”

“But then why was this second Well such a bad thing?”

“You do not understand the gravity of his actions, child.”

Now it was Zul’vii’s turn to scowl. “No, I don’t. I don’t understand what could make someone shut their twin up for ten thousand years. I didn’t see the resemblance before, but now I do. You’re both equally stubborn and set in your ways, and you both decided that I’m a child and you don’t have to explain anything to me.”

Malfurion looked taken aback by the troll’s outburst. “To be fair, I’m-”

“Ten thousand years old, and you were fighting demons when you were my age. I know. But you know what? Tyrande is just as old, and she treated me as an equal.” Zul’vii glared at the startled druid, angry breaths whistling around her clenched teeth. “You locked Illidan up for ten thousand years. Do you have any idea how much that hurt him? I’m not trying to say he’s totally blameless, because he’s an arrogant old fossil with anger issues and I want to smack that sneer off his face most of the time, but I also know that he’s bleeding from the things that happened to him, and I wonder what he would be like if he hadn’t been abandoned for so long, and meanwhile you’re sitting on that branch like you’re the victim and your shit smells like roses, when I know that you’ve had a much better time than he had.”

“What lies has he told you?” Malfurion asked coldly.

“You know, it’s funny, but he doesn’t rant about you unless he’s really hurt. Here’s what he told me; you tell me if it’s a lie.” Zul’vii hooked one arm around the trunk of the tree and counted off on the fingers of her other hand. “You’re loved and respected by your people.”

“That’s…true,” he replied warily.

“You’re a mighty druid; you told me that much. You’re smiled upon by the gods.”

“I…suppose I am.”

“You’re adored by Tyrande. Well, she told me herself that she chose you, so I’d hope that one’s true. I don’t think Illidan would be so bitter about it if it weren’t.”

“No, that’s true as well.”

“You imprisoned him. You didn’t exactly confirm that one, but you didn’t deny it, either.”

“I do not deny it,” he affirmed, “nor do I regret it.”

“Now we get to the more vague accusations. According to Illidan, you have everything that should have been his. Aside from his glory, his freedom, his destiny, his eyes, and Tyrande, though, he didn’t specify.” Zul’vii looked at Malfurion for a moment. “Well, it sounds like you have glory, freedom, and Tyrande, so do you mind explaining the destiny and the eyes thing?”

“When we were younger, Illidan had golden eyes.” Malfurion looked like he was still waiting for the real blow. “It was a sign of great destiny. After he was imprisoned, my eyes started turning gold.”

“Well, that explains the eyes, but what about the destiny?”

The druid pressed his lips together.

“Right; never mind. I guess that falls under being loved and respected by your people and smiled upon by the gods.”

“What else has he said about me?” Malfurion asked grimly.

Zul’vii smiled. “Not a damned thing.” She let that sink in for a minute. “Wait, I lied. You ordered him banished from night elf lands, something that Tyrande confirmed and reversed. So, you want to tell me what he did that deserved that?”

“Tyrande freed him against my wishes when the Burning Legion returned not long ago.” The druid scowled. “She asked him to find and slay the leader of their forces in these very woods. He did so, but his greed caused him to consume enough demonic magic to transform into the monstrosity he is now.”

“You mean his starvation.”

“What?”

Zul’vii shifted on her branch. “The tattoos on his chest. He told me that he did that to himself so that his body was entirely fueled by magic rather than food. After the months I spent healing him, I can attest that it’s the truth. And you locked him up for ten thousand years; I’d be a little hungry after that, myself.” She kicked her feet. “So after he became a half-demon, he…went on a rampage and killed a bunch of your people?”

Malfurion frowned. “No. Tyrande and I discovered him shortly after his transformation. I told him to leave our lands, and he left.”

“That’s it?” Zul’vii stared, incredulous. “He didn’t even do anything, and you told him to leave?”

“He had become a demon! He was-”

“-no brother of mine,” sneered a familiar voice. “Isn’t that what you said, brother?”

Troll and druid turned to see Illidan hovering in the air, arms crossed, wings beating slowly.

“Illidan,” the druid growled. “The last time we parted, we did so in peace. I would not want to be the cause of that being broken.”

“We parted in peace only because I asked for it. You told me I had done things I could never be forgiven for, and then graciously allowed me to live because I had saved Tyrande and returned her safely to you.” The half-demon smirked as his brother flinched away from Zul’vii’s sharp glare. “If this so-called peace is broken, brother, it will be by your doing. You know very well that I will not cause Tyrande grief.”

“I came to speak to Zul’vii. Not you.”

“Then speak; I will not stop you.”

“No.” The troll stood on her branch. “We’re done here.”

Malfurion stretched one hand out imploringly. “Zul’vii, wait. I only wanted to warn you what my brother is like-”

“I know what he’s like!”

“-and offer you sanctuary within Moonglade should you ever need it!”

The troll froze, turned, and stared at the druid. Wordlessly, she looked at Illidan. He smirked and nodded, and she turned back to Malfurion.

“As much as I hate admitting that this arrogant overgrown bat was right,” she said slowly, “he was right. I appreciate that you’re concerned for me, but buzz off. I’ll take my chances with the violent jerk.”

“If you harm her…” Malfurion left the threat hanging.

“You’ll what, Furion?” Illidan chuckled darkly. “What is there that you think you can do to me?”

“Just remember my offer,” the druid half-pleaded.

With one last dark look at Illidan, Malfurion returned to stormcrow shape and flew off. Illidan darted forward and snatched up the troll before flying off in the opposite direction, holding her bridal-style while she clung to his neck and shrieked curses in his ear.

They flew for several minutes before landing on a rocky outcropping. Illidan kept his arms around her as he set her down, and after seeing the sheer drop, she pressed herself close against his body. They stayed like that for a minute, then he shifted his hands to her shoulders.

“In many of the old stories,” he said without preamble, “the spirit or half-spirit has wings.”

“Well, I think it’s pretty clear that I don’t,” Zul’vii snapped, mind filled with images of him hurling her off the edge to her doom.

“You didn’t have healing powers until your mother died,” the half-demon said calmly. “I think, now that you have bonded, they will manifest.”

“If you throw me off that cliff, I will drag myself back from the land of the dead and throttle you with my entrails.”

“Very creative, but that will not be necessary.”

Illidan’s hands jerked, spinning the half-troll around so that she faced the sheer drop, then clamped firmly just under her arms. A heft, a lunge, and then they were gliding over the tangle of twisted trees and broken rocks that made up the landscape, far below them. Zul’vii held rigidly still, still afraid he would drop her, her skin crawling.

“If I am wrong,” Illidan shouted, the wind whipping his words away, “I will catch you.”

He let go.

Zul’vii screamed as the ground plummeted towards her, trying by sheer force of will to slow her fall, feeling as though all of her innards were re-arranging themselves, scuffling to not be the ones closest to the piercing, crushing landscape. She tried closing her eyes, but the wind tore them open until in desperation, she clapped both hands over them and kept shrieking. The sound resonated in her entire body, felt rather than heard, and settled into a steady rhythm much like the beat of Illidan’s huge wings. A minute passed, and terror faded into the effort of maintaining that shrieking pattern. Then Zul’vii realized that the wind was not tearing her screams away, and that she was not screaming.

She opened her eyes.

The broken tangle of rocks and trees was still very far away, and it was not getting any closer. That shock caused a hitch in the resonant thrumming, and she jerked her head up, then to the side. Wispy tendrils of golden light stretched out from somewhere behind her, waving slowly in time with that thrumming. The same on her other side. When she returned her gaze to the front, she found that Illidan was hovering before her.

“I was right,” he said, satisfaction dripping from his fangs. “Excellent. Can you control them?”

“I’ll kill you for this!” Zul’vii shrieked, flailing for his face, fingers crooked into claws.

Her first attempts to reach him fell short, but she inched her way closer until he jerked his head back to avoid her. Then, infuriatingly, he was suddenly a few feet further back. Screaming incoherently, she lunged at him and closed the distance. Again he retreated, and she had the satisfaction of the smug draining from his smirking face as she was right there in front of him. This time, he closed his wings and dropped, only to open them again and begin gliding off.

“YOU WON’T GET AWAY FROM ME THAT EASILY!” Zul’vii shouted, furling her glowing tendrils and shooting after him.

She chased him across the sky, up and down, curves and loops, until he dropped neatly into the center of the Illidari camp and she landed as well, fully intending to launch herself at him and pound his face into the ground. Her knees betrayed her, however, and she stumbled right into his arms as they buckled.

“Food for my troll,” he shouted calmly, lifting her back to her feet. “You will eat, and then you will rest,” he told her firmly.

“I…will…kill…you…” she panted, wanting to claw at him but realizing that she was wrung out.

“Perhaps, but not today. I suspect that manifesting your wings is putting a strain on your energy; try retracting them.”

She scowled, wishing she had the breath to demand he tell her how to do that. Instead, she focused on the thrumming and tried to pull it back into her heart. When it faded into her heartbeat, she felt as though she’d already had a quick nap. Certainly she had enough energy to slap Illidan, and she did just that, although he only smirked at her and scooped her back into his arms. Muttering threats and insults under her breath and scowling fiercely at him, she found herself carried back to their tent and deposited on her bedroll. Two naga appeared shortly with a tray of food and a jug of water, both of which Illidan took and set beside her.

“Eat,” he ordered. “Rest. Do both until you have the strength to throttle me in my sleep. Tomorrow, you overgrown lightning bug, we shall see if you can manifest your wings without my…help.”

Laughing at her expression, he strolled out of the tent.