The voice was constantly in Illidan's head, whispering what at first were unthinkable things. Yes, he was jealous of his brother, but the sorcerer could never see himself causing Malfurion any harm. That would have been like cutting off his own left arm.
And yet…he could not help finding such thoughts also a slightly bit comforting, a way in which his misery over losing Tyrande could be somewhat assuaged. Deep down, Illidan still harbored some slight hope that she would see things differently, that the priestess would realize how superior he was to his brother.
The foul mist that had spread all the way from Zin-Azshari did nothing to lighten his mood. As he strode up to Lord Ravencrest, he saw that the bearded noble looked none too pleased, either. Despite their renewed progress, now not only were Malfurion and Krasus gone, but Rhonin had yet to return from the mission upon which he had insisted on going. Illidan was certain that the night elves could survive without the other spellcasters, but he at least would have preferred the human to return. Rhonin was the only one capable of teaching him anything concerning his craft.
Going down on one knee before his master, Illidan bowed his head. 'My lord.'
'Rise, sorcerer. I summon you to prepare yourself and the others for departure.'
'But Master Rhonin-'
'Has but minutes ago returned and reported. What he tells me urges our immediate march. We must crush the demons and take the capital as soon as possible.'
That Illidan had not sensed the wizard's return surprised the younger night elf. As he stood, he said, 'We shall be ready to ride.'
The sorcerer turned to depart, but Ravencrest shook his head. 'That isn't the only reason I've summoned you, lad. It's to tell you what the wizard discovered, and it is for your ears only.'
Illidan's chest swelled with pride. 'I will tell no one, not even the Moon Guard.'
'Not until I tell you to do so, yes, lad. Hear what Master Rhonin discovered and digest it well…if you can.'
Then, the master of Black Rook Hold related the horrific tale of what had happened to Rhonin's party. The sorcerer listened first with disbelief, then astonishment. He did not, however, react with the disgust, the dread, with which Lord Ravencrest did. Instead, for the first time, Illidan found himself admiring the audacity of the demons.
'I didn't think such possible!' he said once the noble had finished. 'What command they have of their spellwork!'
'Yes,' returned Ravencrest, not noting Illidan's morbid fascination. 'Too dark and lethal a command. We now face a greater threat than even I believed. How abominable a thing to consider, even by them!'
Illidan did not see the matter in the same light. The demon's spellcasters allowed no limits to their imagination. They worked to create whatever their abilities allowed, the better to gain their ultimate goal. While the goal itself was not to be admired, the efforts of the warlocks surely were.
'I wish that we could capture one of the Eredar,' he murmured. The sorcerer imagined conversing with the demon, learning how its manner of spellcasting differed from his own.
'Capture one? Don't be silly, lad! I expect them to be slain on sight, especially now! Every dead warlock means less chance for a repeat of this horror that Master Rhonin and the others confronted!'
Quickly smothering any hint of his esteem for the warlocks, Malfurion's brother quickly nodded. 'O-of course, my lord! That remains one of our highest priorities!'
'I should hope so. That's all, sorcerer.'
Illidan bowed, then immediately retreated. His mind was awhirl with thoughts concerning what he had just learned. To raise the dead! What other fantastic feats could the Eredar perform? Even the two wizards had never hinted of such abilities, or surely they would have seen the good sense in calling up the battlefield casualties of both sides to use against the Burning Legion!
Lord Ravencrest was making a terrible mistake. How better to defeat an enemy than to learn their strengths and add them to your own arsenal? With such skills added to those which he had already picked up, Illidan believed he would be nearly capable of crushing the demons by himself.
Surely then Tyrande would see that he was the superior choice.
'If only I could learn from them…' he whispered.
Almost as soon as he said it, Illidan glanced around anxiously, certain that there was someone nearby who had heard. However, the sorcerer found his immediate surroundings empty, the nearest soldier many yards away.
More confident again, Illidan marched off to rejoin the Moon Guard. He had much thinking to do. Much thinking.
The shadow moved away from Illidan's retreating back, skirting the tent of Lord Desdel Stareye. Even with his hooves, the figure walked silently across the harsh ground. Guards making their rounds somehow missed seeing him despite being very near at some points. Only those he chose to hear or see him ever did so.
Xavius leered, quite pleased with his efforts. The satyr had not only served his glorious master, but set well into motion his own vengeance. He had marked the druid's brother immediately, and now the process of corruption had begun. The questions, the desires, were there, and Illidan Stormrage himself would now fan the flames. It was only a matter of time.
The satyr slipped out of the camp to where the others awaited him. Even Archimonde did not realize everything Xavius plotted, for the former night elf answered now to Sargeras alone. Neither Archimonde nor Mannoroth had any sway over him.
Yes, Xavius thought, if all went as planned, when Sargeras entered the world, it would be he who stood at the right hand of the demon lord…and Archimonde and Mannoroth who would be forced to kneel before him.
Pain woke Krasus, pain that wracked every fiber of his being. Even trying to breathe hurt so very much.
'Hush, hush,' twittered a feminine voice. 'You are not yet fit to rise.'
He tried opening his eyes, but that also proved too much of a strain. 'Wh-who…'
'Sleep, sleep…' Her voice was pure music, but had in it something that told the stricken wizard that she was more than a human or a night elf.
Krasus fought against the suggestion, but his strength abandoned him and he drifted off. Dreams of flight filled his slumber. He was a dragon again, but this time he had a proud plumage like a great bird. The mage thought little of this, simply thrilled to be aloft once more.
The dream went on and on, never ceasing to tantalize him. When someone shook Krasus and finally tore him from it, he almost cursed the intruder.
'Krasus! It's Malfurion! Awaken!'
The dragon mage grudgingly returned to consciousness. 'I…I am with you, druid.'
'Praise Elune! I thought you would sleep forever.'
Now that he was awake, Krasus realized that the night elf had quite possibly done him a tremendous favor. 'I believe I was supposed to sleep…at least until our host returned.' The slim spellcaster looked around at their surroundings. 'And perhaps I am still sleeping.'
The room around them, while spacious, was of such odd construction that Krasus had to inspect it. It was formed from many, many branches, vines, and other material packed together with dirt and more. The room was rounded at the ceiling, and the only entrance appeared to be a hole far to his right. He looked down and noticed that his own bedding was of similar material, made soft by a draping of fresh leaves artfully woven together. On a small table made from the stump of a tree, a bowl carved from an impossibly-huge nut held water, which he assumed was for him.
Sipping from it, the dragon mage continued his inspection. His eyes narrowed as he realized that what he had taken for an inner wall was, in point of fact, a passage. The curve of the room and the way the walls had been created made it almost impossible to see the corridor without standing directly in front of it.
'It goes for a very long distance,' Malfurion offered. 'I found another, much larger chamber, and from that I went on to two more. Then I ran across more corridors and decided I had better return to you.'
'A wise thing.' Krasus frowned. His sharp ears had picked up a sound from without that he had finally been able to identify. Birds. Not just one type, however; the wizard heard at least a dozen different calls, some of them
