Chapter 9 – Shattrath

Finally, Ocel made good on his word and an audience with the naaru had been granted. Sarah was travel to Shattrath and speak with A'dal.

Erik had demanded he go along with Drew, Ocel and Sarah; he could not be deterred, no matter what. He had grown very fond of Sarah, and the lad, Drew. He felt quite paternal about them both.

They all agreed to leave from Erik's cottage so not to draw attention. Ocel and Khadgar arrived together. There was a definite tension in the air between Khadgar and Sarah. She merely offered a curt nod of her head in greeting to the Archmage and sharply turned away. The corners of his mouth twitched in a bittersweet smile, before he grunted, ran his fingers through his hair and looked skyward.

Ocel emitted an exasperated huff on witnessing the acerbic salutation between the two. There was an obvious pain behind her eyes and he gathered it was from her having been despatched from Azeroth by his friend almost two years earlier. Having bore witness to Khadgar's continued inner conflict during that time, he could interpret his emotions easily enough. Khadgar he could handle, but Sarah - he wasn't sure. He just hoped the two could at least iron out any differences they had so this expedition would go smoothly.

Khadgar conjured the portal which would take them to Outland, and their destination Shattrath City. The outcome of this meeting would decide what their next move, if any, was going to be. He had to admit, he was curious how it would go. Khadgar and the naaru had formed a deep mutual respect. He had offered his aid on many missions, and been impressively influential in his efforts to aid the Sha'tar, with whom the naaru were strongly affiliated with.

They arrived at the Terrace of Light, the middle level of a three-tier city. Sarah and Drew could not help but smile as they passed the banks with their built-in auction houses. The draenei guards on their eleks, elephant-like mounts, watched wordlessly at everyone walking by going about their business. A flight master who offered passengers a lift to various locations throughout Outland stood proudly beside his gryphons, waiting for the next customer to approach.

Raising their eyes to the top tier, Sarah and Drew marvelled at the red and gold banners of the Scryers. Mainly it was the home base in the city for members of the Horde, although Alliance soldiers could affiliate with them also, it just meant that they would not be trusted by the opposing Aldor. It was founded by a blood elf called Voren'thal, when he and his regiment were sent by their regent, Prince Kael'thas Sunstrider to lay waste to the city. On crossing the bridge however, instead of attacking, Voren'thal laid down his weapons and asked to speak with the naaru, saying he had had a vision in which he saw the naaru were the only hope for his peoples' survival. He swore fealty to the naaru from that day onwards. That defection had resulted in the largest loss to Prince Kael'thas forces.

On the opposite side, lay Aldor's Rise. This was home to a particular faction of draenei, mainly those who opposed the Scryers. Again, either Horde or Alliance could offer their allegiance at the cost of the opposing faction distrusting them. The Aldor, an ancient order of priests who revered the naaru, had been initially lead by the Prophet Velen. He was an eredar who hailed from the planet Argus and had escaped the planet with many loyal followers after the fallen titan Sargeras corrupted two other eredars, namely Kil'jaeden, Velen's one time best friend, and Archimonde. The faction was now lead by High Priestess Ishanah.

The Lower City spread below and its myriad races, trades and colours filled Sarah and Drew with awe. All races of Azeroth from orcs to elves, even goblins to ethereals, mingled in the Lower City, spouting various wares and services from blacksmithing to tailoring and cooking to first aid. Amongst them were the arakkoa. These were an ancient race of bird-like humanoids, native to Draenor. Their brightly rainbow coloured feathered bodies, whilst mesmorising, were oddly unnerving when they shuffled around. Their hooked beaks, clawed hands, and crest of feathers on their heads added to their menace especially when they clacked and chittered in their communications. Still, you could earn their favour if you were willing to help them with some undercover work, so-to-speak.

You could not escape the magic of the entire city when you were actually walking, breathing and feeling it. Although she was here on a mission of great importance, Sarah had to ingest it all, it was too incredible not to.

Khadgar lightly placed a hand on her arm to guide her into the central location of the Terrace. She shied away from his touch and walked in ahead of him, knowing exactly where she was going. The small but telling reflex did not go unnoticed, Ocel glanced at both Sarah and Khadgar, but neither paid him heed.

Used to the sight within, Khadgar and Ocel took their place near where the naaru A'dal hovered majestically. The other three visitors however, stood back, open mouthed at the sheer beauty of the being in front of them. It was not made of sharp geometrical lines as depicted in the game, but a soft shimmering sequence of light and shadow, like gossamer or angel hair, utterly beautiful, completely breath-taking. Its radiance was heavenly. Sarah approached, suddenly feeling incredibly humbled. She had never seen anything so...perfect. The sounds were amazingly familiar, the delicate, heavenly wind-chimes keeping pace with the shimmering of the celestial being.

Sarah glanced back at Drew and Erik. She did not have a clue how to begin, or if she should wait for A'dal to speak first. In response they shrugged their shoulders in unison. She turned to Ocel, who seemed to be communicating, somehow, with the naaru and therefore did not notice Sarah's plea for direction. Khadgar did however, but she turned away when she saw him looking at her. The Archmage sighed quietly and turned back to A'dal.

Minutes passed and still she knew not what to do. Glancing across she watched Ocel. Then she remembered. They communicated telepathically. Her heart sank. It was not a gift she possessed. It was probably going to require either Ocel, or Khadgar to translate, so-to-speak.

When they turned and indicated she, Drew and Erik follow, she was stunned.

She ran up beside Ocel. "Do I not get to speak?"

"No. Not yet."

"Well, how does A'dal know what I am here for?"

"The naaru are beyond wise, Sarah..."

"Yes, but I need to tell them..."

"I have done that for you." He moved forward.

She tugged at his sleeve. "How do I know you have told them what I need them to hear?"

"It's called trust!" He moved off again. "I will see you all later," he said with a dismissive wave.

Sarah was at a loss. She looked at Drew and Eric. They were equally bemused. She sighed deeply, and turned to face Khadgar. Slowly she raised her eyes to his. She half expected mockery or at least mirth as she had no alternative to speak to him at last. But there was neither. Instead, he looked upon her tenderly. It was an expression which she was instantly at war with, but bit down the urge to bark at him. "What am I missing?" she said flatly.

"Patience," he replied softly. "A'dal does not simply start up conversation with a ..."

"Outsider?" she finished for him with a note of bitterness.

"I was going to say, a young woman, who is unfamiliar with the ways of the naaru."

"Oh." She chastised herself for being too quick to bite after all. "Well, how long do I have to wait?"

"Until they deliberate."

"And how long will that be?"

"It may be today, tomorrow or a few days from now."

Sarah shuffled from side to side. ""They are aware that the Burning Legion is knocking seven bells out of Azeroth aren't they?" Her voice aired her irritation.

At that, Khadgar did afford a small smile. "Yes, they are aware."

She lowered her eyes. Of course they are, what was I thinking. A tiny laugh escaped her.

"It's good to hear your laughter again."

And there it was again. The agony of wanting to touch him, hold him. The burn at the back of her throat and in her chest, flared once more. She hated this. It was the most painful thing to bear. But bear it she must, for although she wished it weren't the case, she would need his help in this matter. Still, sometimes the agony was just too great.

She turned and joined Erik and Drew. Together they left the Terrace and ventured to the Lower City. Khadgar, with a heavy heart, let her go without protest.

They all met again later that day, convening in The World's End Tavern. Ocel confirmed A'dal and the other naaru had not yet called upon them. He'd suggested they all eat and make the best of their time in the city. He had arranged overnight accommodation for them all on Aldor's Rise as it would be unlikely a decision would be made that day.

They sat round a table secreted in an alcove of The World's End tavern. It was a place for various sundry travellers and merchants passing through the city. Colourful and relaxed although prone to the occasional bar fight once in a while, it still served what was considered the best food in the city. They ordered a selection of foods, skullfish soup, blackened basilisk, poached bluefish, talbuk steak, spicy crawdad, and finished off with some delicious chocolate cake, all washed down with ale and wine.

The meal had been amicable enough, although three party members had all noticed the occasional uneasy glances between Khadgar and Sarah. The evening was not without its laughter however, as Drew and Sarah listened to some amusing stories of Erik and Ocel. Ocel's ones of course quite often included Khadgar and some of the pranks they used to get up to, usually practical jokes on each other. It still warmed Sarah when she heard tales of the Archmage being less serious and up to no good, playing silly tricks. She smiled fondly at the tales.

She was however, feeling weary and asked her companions to excuse her. They bade her goodnight and she rose from her seat. At that precise moment, a stool flew past their table. All of them instinctively ducked as a ruckus from their left broke out. They all turned to watch as an ogre started to beat the living daylights out of a human warrior. What had fuelled the fight no-one knew, but the entertainment factor of the two mismatched opponents aroused great enthusiasm amongst the gamblers in the inn. Odds were being shouted across the room and cheers and boos were being voiced in ever increasing numbers.

Khadgar, whilst mildly amused by the brawling two, was mainly concerned for Sarah's safety. She on the other hand was perfectly capable of looking after herself, and conveyed so in the look she shot him when he tried to reach out to her. Drew, Erik and Ocel were laughing at the spectacle, oohing and ahhing as the warrior was tossed through the air, crashing into a table in the centre of the room. Crockery and cutlery spewed into mid air, smashing and tinkling on the floor nearby. The warrior flailed and rolled to get back up, slipping on the spilled stew from the table with the added inconvenience of his plate armour weighing him down. Once he was vertical, he charged full pelt at the waiting ogre, who stood grinning, beckoning his challenger with a stubby forefinger and a mug of ale in his other hand. He drained its contents and attempted to slam the tankard on the warrior's head as he was about to make contact, but the warrior seen it coming and ducked under arm then ploughed into the the ogre's belly. The huge beast staggered from the impact, beating his arms trying to stay upright. More cheers escalated at the turn of the tables. They soon changed to groans and boos however when the warrior lost his footing, and therefore his momentum failed at driving the hulk further back. As the warrior fell to the ground, the ogre steadied and his face darkened.

Sarah stared open-mouthed as the warrior once more rose to the challenge but was instantly catapulted back across the room with a hefty uppercut from the ogre. The warrior appeared to be down this time and the ogre turned back towards his seat in the far left corner of the room. Spectators drew a sharp intake of breath as unbelievably, the warrior got up once more and charged again at his opponent. This time, without even looking, the ogre snapped out his arm and his huge fist impacted the warrior fully in the face.

This time, he remained down.

With a huge disgruntled sigh, the ogre picked the warrior up, put him over his shoulder, lumbered over to the entrance and unceremoniously threw him outside in the dirt, then returned to his corner in the room.

The patrons calmed and exchanged monies, congratulatory back slaps and went about their business of enjoying a quiet drink.

"Well, then," Sarah said, making sure there was no more inanimate objects about to fly across her path to the doorway. "I bid you goodnight again." Her companions, still recovering from the hilarity of the bar fight, nodded goodnight to her and she made her way to the exit.

Within a moment Khadgar was at her side. "Allow me to escort you?" he asked. When he saw she was going to protest, he simply said, "Please. Let us try to at least be on friendly terms, Sarah. I know this is hard for you..." He inwardly winced at his own words, but knew of no other way to convey how he empathised with her.

She looked straight at him. "You have no idea how hard this is for me Khadgar, absolutely none at all. But, I agree, we must try and get along, at least until this is over."

That was as much as he could hope for, he supposed. It was arrogant of him to think she would easily accept him in her life at all now. Still, it stung when she made it clear that there would an end. Nevertheless, he had a duty, she had her life. A life he had tried to ensure would be a happy one. The only way he could see to do that was to send her back through the rift. Willing to suffer endless days and nights remembering the softness of her skin, her scent, her touch, he had tried to ensure her life would be enriched, with perhaps someone new. She was young, beautiful and deserved someone who could love her fully, in every sense of the word. The thought of her hating him for not being able to be that man she wanted, needed, was too much to comprehend, and so he had her sent home. He had no right to even feel vexation about her distant manner or her abruptness. Yet, he did. Acutely.

They stepped over the still unconscious warrior and made their way to Aldor Rise. When she did speak, it was all business. It was better than the silence. "You understand what it is I want you to do when we find Illidan, don't you?"

"If, we find him, you mean."

"No, I mean exactly what I say. When we find him." Her eyes had a determined fury burning in them.

He sighed and took a deep breath. "Then yes, I understand. You want me to teleport him from within the Vault to Mardum. Have you considered however, it will depend how far in he is from where we enter the portal?"

"Why would that make a difference?"

"Because, I may not be able to do it in one teleportation. I have to be near the area I draw him to. So it could require many attempts."

She paused. After some thought, she spoke again. "We will have some warlocks and other mages with us, yes?"

"Most likely."

"Why can you not all converge powers to create a tunnel of sorts?"

He furrowed his brow.

She carried on enthusiastically. "We would have to send scouts to locate him inside first. Once they report back, we can then post a warlock or mage at feasible intervals, obviously they may need some protection by some of our melee wielders. Once you are all in line, the portals and demonic gateways should be used to draw him through to Mardum."

Khadgar thought about it. It was bold, and it could work. In theory. "We do not know exactly what we will face there, Sarah. While it is quite a good plan, we will be met by fierce resistance, we will need our spell-weavers to aid us. They cannot all stand waiting to open the way for Illidan."

"That's where we will have an advantage. The demon hunters. They, no doubt will consume some of the demon's energies as they bring them down, which will make them even more formidable in dealing killing blows to the remaining scum that inhabit that place."

He had to admit her enthusiasm was impressive, as was her strategy. "You have really been thinking this through, haven't you?"

"Yes. We must have Lord Illidan back. We need him."

"We? Or you?" It was uttered before he had a chance to stop himself. Instantly, he regretted it but not before he made matters worse. Déjà vu intervened and he saw her hand coming up to slap him. He caught her by the wrist. "Your days for doing that Sarah, are over."

The strangest of sounds came from her lips, like a cross between her breath hitching and the sound of a wounded animal. She tugged her wrist from his grasp. He noticed her struggling to keep her breath even. Then, her response, although ragged, was icy cold. "You really don't have to remind me that things are over, Khadgar. You made that perfectly clear with the choice you made. So, I suggest as you only expend energy on your work these days, just focus on what you know - your duty to Azeroth, and do not dare to assume where my feelings lie. "

They had reached the inn and she smartly entered making her way to the rooms. She had firmly closed her door before he reached her. His room was across from hers. Quietly he entered and closed the door.

He lay for a while, trying to recover from their parting words. He knew full well she was not interested in the Betrayer in a romantic way. It had been a petty remark he'd made. But, then to go on and say what he did - and her reaction. He played the moments over and over in his mind.

The terrible truth was, he still loved her, and denying it did not diminish the fact. He also had to remember, that she was hurt, and his off-the-cuff remarks only hurt her more and created another rift. One he would not be able to close so easily.

All the conflicting emotions were a heavy burden, and it was proving insurmountably difficult to keep them in check. Complete abstainment from carnal desires were nonetheless paramount for the position he now held. He had to remember that. He closed his eyes, imploring sleep to take him.

A small click stirred him from his slumber. He just caught the sliver of light from the doorway as his door closed softly. Sleepily, he raised himself up on his elbows. A shape stood at the bottom of his bed, but the dark combined with the gossamer veil prevented him from seeing clearly. Her voice, tinged with sorrow, whispered. "I'm sorry Khadgar. I was so cruel. Forgive me." She raised the sheet at the bottom of the bed and slid under. Alert now, he moved further up the bed.

"Sarah, please. I cannot do this." But oh, how he wanted to. His heart was pounding. He could just make out her shape under the sheet, moving up over his legs. She halted. His breath escaped him as she kissed his manhood, enticing him to fulfil his desire. He fought to keep his body's response at bay, but he was rapidly losing the fight. She moved on upwards, her head now leveling with his chest. He could feel the sweet warmth of her most secret place press gently against him.

"Sarah... No!" he gasped, his eyes closing as he felt her taking him. He tensed as she gently rode him and he collapsed into the pillows, his entire body flushed, responding. She felt so good. Except for her nails, clawing at his ribs. Extraordinarily, long nails. His eyes opened as she raised her head from the sheet. He stared at her fel coloured sockets, bound by rune cloth.

"No!" he pulled away, trying to push her off. Her soft laughter echoing in his head. "No!"

His eyes snapped open. There was no-one there. It had been merely a dream. A nightmare. His body was slick with sweat, his chest still heaving. Slowly, his breathing lapsed to a more sedate rhythm.

He knew then, his torment would never ease.