moonshadows | Second report

“Miss Mommy,” Ember said quietly, fingers tracing the whorl of one arcane tattoo on Illidan’s bicep.

Illidan sat up and cuddled the girl to his chest. “I miss your mommy, too.”

One tiny finger poked his chest, then her own. “Why?”

“Why are you with me instead of her?”

Solemnly, she nodded.

“Little Ember, your mother loves you very much. But she’s very important to lots of people, and she has a lot she has to do – like me and the blood elves, and the naga.” He waited while the girl nodded her understanding. “Raising you and your brother by herself, as well as doing all of that, is very difficult – especially since you have a demon inside you who doesn’t play nice.” He kissed her forehead while she scowled. “Your mother didn’t know how to help you, so she asked me.”

“No Daddy?”

Illidan bit his tongue until he was sure he could keep his tone even. “Your father has responsibilities of his own, and they mean that he has to spend a lot of time away from your mother.”

“Love Mommy?” she asked plaintively.

“Yes.” Illidan hugged her tighter. “Your father loves your mother very much. But he was away and couldn’t help her with you. Your mother asked me to take you so that you could get all the help you need to fight back the demon.”

One little hand spread across a small portion of his chest. “Love Mommy?” she asked again, her tone hesitant.

Pain flooded him. “Yes,” he whispered. “I love your mother very much. Your father is my brother, and I love him, too, even though we don’t get along very well.”

Ember was silent for a long minute, her little face serious. “Love Ember?”

“Little Ember, precious child,” he said, voice shaking, “I love you as though you were my own.”

Just like that, the child’s face lit up with joy and she snuggled against him. “Love Illidan,” she said, contented and satisfied, and dropped easily into sleep.

The half-demon did not sleep. He lay back down carefully, eyes shifted to see magic, and he watched the child who had been entrusted to him, tracing the ebb and flow of her energy against Archimonde’s. If she needed to die to rid the world of the demon within her, could he do it? Would he be able to spill her blood, end her innocent little life? He imagined her looking up at him, trusting the instincts that told her he would not harm her, trusting him the way no one ever had. Could he betray that trust? If she knew that she had to die to keep the demon from harming the world, would she cry? His arms tightened around her.

If she had to die, would the madness claim him at last?

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Your daughter commands enough of her own mind to use simple sentences, Illidan wrote, watching Ember nap cuddled up to his pillow. She is able to grasp and express surprisingly complex ideas. I am concerned that her continued separation from you, as well as from my brother, is hindering her ability to develop bonds of affection with her parents. I reassure her that you both love her very much, but words mean little to a child that young when compared to actions. I have begun my magical examination of her body; next month I hope to report my findings. I hope all is going well for you, Tyrande, and that you are able to take the time to visit us – or to allow your daughter to visit. She misses you.

He re-read the report, signed it, and sealed it. Seconds later, it was winging its way to the High Priestess.