When Gwen arrived back with Ocel, Illidan was still buried away in Khadgar's study. The occasional shout of euphoria came from the closed room which had Sarah running to the door every time and listening. Illidan, sensing her presence, announced he was still working and had not uncovered all the magic in the symbols yet.  He needed peace to concentrate. He shooed her away.

She returned to her two female visitors, and after feeding and changing Ocel, tried very hard to keep her attention from straying along the hall to the study. Gwen spoke about how sad she was that Drew and the "young 'uns" as she referred to Bernie, Mick and Mel, had to all go back home and that she would miss Drew. Sarah smiled wistfully.  Seemed not only Erik had "adopted" her friend, but so had his partner. Erik had been withdrawn this morning, Gwen said, and she had thought it was because the Earthlings had decided to leave, so he had went hunting to occupy his mind. Sarah felt a twinge of sadness for Erik.  He so doted on Drew.

Gwen then went on to say how amazing Arcaena looked, that she still had not gotten over the surprise of the "new Arcaena" and "regenerated Illidan"  when they had visited the cottage the day before.  Arcaena enjoyed then re-telling the story about their transformation and the look on Kayn's face as well as all the other demon hunters.  She had quite a way of telling a story did Arcaena, turning what would have likely have been a very traumatic evolution into something extremely amusing.

Sarah's attention had drifted between the two women's conversation and the door to Khadgar's study. She apologised for being such a dreadful hostess, but the women just waved a dismissive hand and carried on chatting.  Eventually, they stood up, announcing they would go shopping for clothes. It would be exciting for Arcaena to try on things which were for a normal elf.  It had been a long time indeed since she had done that. They asked Sarah if she would like to join them, but she declined making the excuse that as Ocel was now sleeping, she did not want to disturb him. Both women knew fine that was not the reason, but allowed her the excuse.

Arcaena announced through the door to the study that she was leaving with Gwen and would see Illidan later.  She was answered by a grunt. She simply smiled, shaking her head, and then gave Sarah a hug. "He will uncover whatever is in that book," she said. "And you will have your words of love returned unscathed. Do not worry so, Sarah. We are indebted to you and will only do what is right by both you and Khadgar."

Sarah hugged her friend tightly. "I know, and I do appreciate it. You are my friends however, and as such you do not owe me anything, ever." Their embrace  tightened for a moment and then Sarah hugged Gwen.

     "Ah'll come by again in the mornin' if that's a'right, to take Ocel oot again." Gwen said.

     "Of course, Gwen. Thank you so much."

     "Ach, it's a pleasure lass and indeed an honour." And with that, the two women left to embark on their shopping spree.

Sarah hung about the study door. She was desperate to know what was going on, but didn't dare turn the handle. She somehow knew Illidan would not take kindly to her barging in. Still, her curiosity could not be curbed. "Can I get you anything?" she asked. A grunt was all she got in response. "Something to drink perhaps? You must be thirsty," she tried.

Music: SONG OF THE SEAHORSE performed by Miriam Stockley

https://youtu.be/-1nWsRU3ojw

The door swung open, abruptly. His amber eyes blazed brightly as he towered over her. She tried to peer past his enormous frame. Her eyes widened as she saw holographic runes floating in the air near the desk. "No thank you," he simply said, before firmly shutting the door again. She stumbled back, momentarily stunned.   

Ocel's cries duly alerted her to her son's needs. She moved through to the nursery and lifted him from his crib. "Hush now," she said softly. "Everything is fine." He continued to cry, but once she sat in the rocking chair and offered him his sustenance, he soon quietened and suckled contentedly, his tiny hands kneading the fabric of her top.  Gently rocking him, she looked out over the rooftops to the harbour and her mind crossed over the sea to a place of dreams and memories.

She compartmentalized her mind, images of Khadgar on the right, when he was happy, joyful. On the left, images of their chortling son, as his eyes took in the wonders of the world.  In the centre she journeyed back through the times they had spent together, reliving the pages within the journal. 

She could see clearly the old apartment in Dalaran and their dramatic flurry through the streets as he'd pursued her, each hurtling insults and accusations.  She smiled, and a small laugh tripped from her lips as she recalled shouting at the onlookers.  Then the joy she felt the moment they expressed how they truly felt about each other once safely indoors.   

She remembered his eyes as he approached her slowly, reaching out sliding an arm around her waist, his other hand touching her cheek, her heart beating madly.  All their angst melting away in the throes of their first kiss.  She closed her eyes, suspending that moment in time; the smell his cologne, the feel of his arm around her waist as he pulled her to him; the texture of his hair, the taste of his lips.  She sighed. An ache which would never again be sated simmered in her core. Never had she felt for anyone the way she did for him. She smiled wistfully. Yet, she had never even considered him in any romantic light prior to meeting him in the flesh.

Opening her eyes, the Dalaran memory faded.  Next to return to her mind was her worry as she'd feared for him being on the Broken Isles having saved King Varian and then aiding in the release and rescue of the demon hunters.  Her overwhelming relief as she saw him stride into the court and introduce the Illidari was relived again.  She lingered on the man as he stood in front of the king, battle weary, yet demonstrating an inner strength, quietly powerful.  

Her lips smiled again as she saw a flicker of shyness cross his face when she took his hand and led him through to her chambers.  Closing her eyes, she remembered the candles offering their warm, soft glow as he loved her for the first time. She heard the quiet hiss of the candles extinguished from the splashes of bathwater. Sighs and moans of pleasure echoed in her mind and her vision forwarded to when she returned to Azeroth.

Smirking, she remembered Erik's rescue attempt from The Golden Keg.  A drunken Drew slung over his shoulder receiving knock after knock as his head bashed off chairs and against other patrons.  Her breath escaped her when she was pressed up against Khadgar, desperately trying to keep her identity hidden.  She sighed as she once more caught his scent, her longing for his closeness bordering on agony.  

Momentarily she revisited the day he came to the cottage, once he had received word of her crusade to save Illidan.  An imaginary hand dismissed the image - it was not wanted, and the picture of a waterfall in Azsuna opened before her eyes. Through the waters torrent she saw them, she felt their passion, the heat of their desire.  

Her announcement that she was pregnant was equally unforgettable. How his face lit up. Then it clouded over as he thought she was returning to Earth.  He pleaded she stay, promising to be a good father and loving partner.  How she loved him...

He fussed over her during her pregnancy, giving in to every craving she had.  She saw the look of pride on his face as they would walk in the public gardens of an evening, enjoying a late summer breeze.  And then once Ocel was born, she watched in awe as his face, filled with love, smiled endlessly when he looked at his son.

She was brought back to the present as the breeze chilled her nipple. Ocel had slipped into another sleep. She stroked his cheek. "You do like a snooze, little man," she said.  "Maybe that's best for now, right enough."  Arranging her top, she covered herself again, fastening the little buttons, then lifted Ocel gently against her shoulder, rubbing his back.  

A quite little burp puffed out from his lips, his fingers flexing and closing into little soft fists again.  She decided she would wait until he woke again to change him, he seemed fine for the time being.

  Music: THE MYSTIC'S DREAM - Loreena McKennitt 

https://youtu.be/QFAfWH_CKVw

She stood watching her son as he slept, noting all the tiny movements of his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth, his eyes under his lids as dreams carried him through a land of fantasy. 

    "Sarah!"

She spun round, startled by the unexpected sound of Illidan's voice.  There was an urgency in his tone. His eyes glowed like burning embers and his nostrils flared slightly.  He looked almost maniacal.  A hint of traditional night elf tattoos glistened, they ebbed and flowed on his chest and shoulders as he breathed deeply.   "What is it?" she whispered. Her heart was suddenly, inexplicably pounding.

He held out his hand. "Come."

Without question, she clasped his hand and he led her through to the study. Once inside he closed the door and moved to the centre of the room.  The journal was on a podium, opened, just to the right of where he stood.  He jutted his chin towards the window. "Open the drapes and the window," he said. 

     "Why?" she asked,  never taking her eyes from him.  His amber orbs flashed to the journal then fixated to an empty space in front of him.  She crossed the room to do as he asked.  "Illidan?" 

He blinked, lightly shaking his head as if waking from a dream. "You will see," he answered, his brow pinched. "Now, move back over there." He pointed towards the door while his eyes focused once more on the empty space which seemed to fascinate him.

Again she obediently followed his instruction. "You've deciphered the book?" she asked nervously.

     "Yes! It was easier than I thought." His voice, though trembling with excitement, was also abrupt.

She could not help but feel his enthusiasm, but she was equally wary. "What is it then, this ... Thalassian secret?"

Slowly, he turned to look at her, his eyes glowing, almost pulsing.   She caught a glimpse of his fangs as his lips curled up.   His chest was heaving, his breathing deep, controlled. "Watch and you will find out," he said. "You must not interrupt though. No matter what. This is powerful magic."

She nodded, her eyes wide.  She trembled, wondering what this secret was, half dreading and half eager to find out.

He started to mumble an incantation which she could not understand.  His voice was low, deep, hypnotic.  His hands wove shapes in the air.  A globe appeared, perfectly still, glowing.  Azeroth? Sarah wondered, too far back to make out the detail.  

Illidan dropped to the ground in a kneel, then she watched as his fingers flexed and curled.  Thin azure blue tendrils snaked out from his fingertips.  The wisps floated, danced and spun before dropping back to the ground. There they started to etch symbols on the wooden boards. 

Illidan's chanting gradually picked up tempo. He drew his hands around in a circle, turning on the ball of his foot. The azure tendrils followed closely, runic symbols branding the floor.  Soft black wisps, miniature phantoms from the scorching, rose and disappeared around the night elf.  A mixture of orange blossom and smoky wood permeated the air like incense.  

He rose slowly, his hands still weaving invisible shapes, the incantation steady, robust. His body glistened in a thin film of perspiration, the shimmering azure of the symbols dancing upon his skin. His eyes rolled back into their sockets, then flicked forward again, even brighter than before. 

Sarah stared, trying not to blink for fear she missed anything.  Her attention, however, was soon drawn to the window.  A strange sound was nearing somewhere outside. "Illidan..." her voice quivered.  The sound from outside unnerved her.

The night elf merely glanced in her direction and drew a finger to his lips to stop her from uttering anything more.  His chanting continued.  

The globe which he had created started to spin slowly.  The runes carved into the floor also began to move, revolving on an invisible axis, rolling in a circular motion like a large disc balancing on the point of a giant needle.  Their azure light rose creating holographic images, transparent, vibrating pillars of light.  They encompassed Illidan and the globe. 

Still more holograms appeared. Clock faces, a myriad of different numerals, their hands turning anti-clockwise danced before her.  She was mesmerised as she watched them ripple, fold and unfold around the globe, interweaving, through it, under and over.  All blended with the runes then separated out again before repeating the performance.  

The noise from the balcony came again.  Her eyes turned back in the direction of the window to catch the billowing voiles fluttering inward, a strong breeze having suddenly arisen.  

Yet another sound drew her attention back inside. Books on the shelves were shuddering, scrolls and rolled up sketches tumbled to the floor.  She felt the floor vibrate, a deep throbbing starting to build, travelling up her legs through her torso, reaching her extremities.  

Her eyes fixed on Illidan, pleading for reassurance the room was not going to collapse around them.  He merely smiled and shook his head.  She assumed that was his way of letting her know there was no need to panic.  But, panic she did.

Her eyes shifted to the desk where she had dutifully replaced everything she had pushed off in fury days before. She had placed things neatly, but the tremors on the ground made all the documents shift and slide, the ink pots clatter and quills roll to the floor.

Casting her eyes back to Illidan she saw him turn to face the window.  His hands were like upturned claws, pulling some invisible thing towards him, slowly, carefully.  His incantation now had an intensity to it, a singular focus. 

She started to move a little closer to him, her eyes flitting between him and the window. Something was struggling on the balcony. She flinched as the sound of whatever was outside conveyed agitation, panic.

With an unexpected flourish of his arms and turning to the centre of the room once more, Illidan introduced whatever it was that had been outside to the runic circle.  It landed with a dull, brutal thud. Sarah screamed, then quickly covered her mouth for fear she broke Illidan's concentration.

Her eyes bulged as an unidentifiable black mass squirmed and grew in the middle of the magic symbols.  The cries that came from it were unbearable.  The creature, if that indeed was what it was, was obviously in pain. The runes spun round faster, growing brighter, their magical thrum intensifying as they moved, blending with the tortured cries of their prisoner. 

At that point she saw Illidan move away, back to the journal, his chanting unbroken as he turned the pages, searching for whatever text he required. The sheen on his skin was shimmering even more; the conjuration was exacting much effort from him.

He moved back to the runic circle again, his eyes almost like flames as he focused on the incarcerated creature. His hands continued their command of the runes, clock faces and globe. All were whirling around at an unfathomable speed, now creating the effect of a shimmering azure wall.

Sarah could not help but feel pity for whatever Illidan had trapped within the circle, its anguished cries obviously voicing its pain and fear. 

Inching nearer she tried to see what was held within the confines of the runic barrier.  Its tormented cries upset her more by the second. She looked desperately at the night elf, tears welling in her eyes, pleading with him to stop the torture.  Why would he want her to witness this barbaric act? He did not acknowledge her, he merely kept focused on the magic barrier and its occupant.

A roar from within the circle had Sarah clamping her hands over her ears. She openly wept. Unable to bear any more she grabbed Illidan's arm. He shrugged her off. He looked like a madman, driven by some hidden purpose. He appeared almost intoxicated by his chanting, the sounds punctuated with an alarming zeal.  She called out his name but still, his attention bore down on the suffering creature behind the wall. She tried again to tug his arm. 

His voice now adopted a feral tone, guttural.  The eyes he turned towards her were so terrifying, fierce, she backed away, stumbling.  Her hands automatically splayed out for support as her bottom hit the floor.  She winced as a judder shot up her spine.

Music: ENOCH by Audiomachine

https://youtu.be/qqsCpDSt3zY

Purposefully, Illidan strode over to the corner of the room, still maintaining the fevered chanting. His hand clasped tightly around Atiesh, Khadgar's Guardian staff.

Sarah shook her head in disbelief. "No!" she shouted. "You must not use that!" Ignoring her, he moved back to the edge of the runic wall. He slammed Atiesh on the ground once, twice, three times. Azure beams shot forth from the carved ravens' eyes atop the staff, bearing down on the black mass that continued to writhe and thrash on the floor.

     "No!" Sarah screamed again, reaching out in protest.

Illidan slammed Atiesh again. The creature cried out, the sound hurting Sarah's ears.  She dared to crawl nearer,  desperately trying to see what made that sound. Again the staff slammed on the floor.  

The runes, clock faces and globe spun at an impossible speed. The thrumming sound they made was starting to hurt her ears and their brightness was burning her eyes. 

Then with startling suddenness everything ... vanished!  Silence. The azure runes, globe, clock faces - gone. Everything dispersed - except the moaning, black mass on the floor.

Sarah threw a hateful glare at Illidan. What manner of man was he to torture a beast so. He simply stared back, exhaustion in his eyes, his chest heaving, perspiration trickling over his face, chest and abdomen. There was no remorse in those amber eyes. 

She snatched Atiesh from his hands and placed it beside herself on the floor.  He did not protest.

Tears still tracing down her cheeks, her eyes fixated on the black mass.  It was still alive going by the trembling form and the strained breathing. Tentatively, she reached towards it.  The creature was wounded, and so being would likely attack her in a bid to defend itself if indeed it had the energy.  

It shifted, straightening from the foetal position it must have pulled into during the attack.  Sarah shrank back, whimpering. She waited a few moments, then dared to move forward again. It moaned. With her hand shaking, she lightly touched what she assumed was its head. Another moan, louder, and it jolted straighter again.

Sarah gasped as she realised what the black mass actually was. Hundreds of feathers fell from the shape and formed a soft pile on the floor around it. She stared at them as they shifted and settled repeatedly from the slightest of draughts. Her eyes moved back to the figure which had shed them. 

There, trembling, sweating, and obviously in considerable pain, was a human.  One with familiar steel-coloured eyes. 

     "Sarah," he croaked, reaching out before he lost consciousness. His hand hit the floor, disturbing some of the feathers.

Sarah clasped her hand to her mouth. Her eyes, wide, disbelieving, she stared up at Illidan. "No!" she breathed. "This cannot be!" 

 A small smirk appeared at the corners of Illidan's mouth.  He nodded. "Oh, but it is, Sarah."