The entire world felt like it was swaying back and forth, the motion akin to a ship that was unable to endure the high tide of the ocean on a rough, stormy night. When Eliana's eyes fluttered open, she realized that she hadn't been imagining things—the world was indeed moving from side to side. To be more accurate, she was the one who was moving. Her head felt heavier than her neck could support, and it lolled to the side, making her vertigo significantly worse.
A warm hand pressed gently against her forehead, causing her head to fall back onto someone's shoulder. The comforting scent of pines, tinged with the slight sting of metal, told her that it was Illidan who sat behind her. As her vision gradually cleared and the midnight sky above them greeted her, the memory of what remained of her childhood home returned. She let out a shaky breath as tears pooled in her eyes, and Illidan's profile drifted into view.
"You're awake," he murmured.
She rolled her head slightly to the right, and met his glowing amber eyes. "How long was I unconscious for?"
"A couple of hours. When Cytheas and I failed to wake you, we decided to continue on towards the camp with the hope that we could make you more comfortable there." He looked straight ahead again, hesitating for a brief second before he added, "I was worried you wouldn't wake up until we arrived."
She sat up and realized they were riding on Kal'shalla, not Illidan's borrowed saber. After a cursory glance at their surroundings, she didn't see Cytheas anywhere. They were surrounded by nothing else but the ever-expansive forest. Even now, after everything that had happened, the sight still brought her peace. However, the unnatural absence of the sounds of nature extended to their location, and Eliana's concern for their situation grew; what could be so abominable and destructive that it could reach this far, in such a short amount of time?
Confused, she asked, "Where is Cytheas?"
"He rode ahead to meet with Ravencrest, and to prepare a place for you at the encampment. It's been quite some time since he left, and I imagine they're probably there already."
She didn't know what to say in response, and lowered her head as she fanned her fingers out, spreading them through the coarse strands of Kal'shalla's fur. Depression wasn't something she was prone to, but after everything that had happened, she felt more disheartened than she usually did. It was difficult to find the positives in her situation.
Her mount's reins were held tightly in Illidan's hands, and she just now noticed that his immense arms were wrapped around her, keeping her upright. Twisting around, she looked up at him and questioned, "Have you been holding onto me the entire time?"
"Well, it was either that or let you fall off," he chuckled. "Is that what you would have preferred?"
"No, I—" She faced forward again. "I was just surprised, that's all."
He hummed in response and they continued onward; the only sound that permeated the silence was the scuffing of Kal'shalla's paws against the dirt. A few minutes later, Eliana piped up and offered, "We can stop, if you'd like to trade places. You must be stiff from riding in the same position all this time, and I'm all right now."
She heard the leather of his jerkin creak ever-so-slightly as he leaned forward. His rich, potent scent filled her senses again, and she felt his lips brush against the length of her ear, eliciting a shiver from her at the unexpected contact.
"I'm fine, Eliana, but thank you," he whispered. After straightening, he finished with, "Besides, we're almost there. Do you see the slight glow coming from just through those trees?"
She followed the direction of his finger and stared up ahead, starting in surprise when she spotted the faint illumination he'd spoken of. When she nodded, he explained, "That should be the camp, according to Cytheas' directions. We were going to spend the day there if you hadn't woken, but now the plan might be changing. Will you be all right if we pick up the pace?"
Again, she nodded, and he shifted in the saddle so that his arms were tighter around her waist. With a quick flick of his wrists, they were speeding through the woods towards the light. As they neared, the faint sounds of soldiers milling about could be heard—the clanking of their armor, of raucous conversations—and she straightened in anticipation. Though she was no soldier, she didn't wish to enter their camp looking like a damsel in distress, like she was depending on Illidan's presence to stand on her own two feet.
Priestess of Elune she may be, but she was no damsel.
The second they flew out of the treeline and into the clearing, the bustle ceased, and multiple pairs of luminescent eyes landed on them. Instead of waiting for Illidan to dismount and help her out of the saddle, Eliana swung her leg over and slid to the ground, grasping the pommel of Kal'shalla's saddle for support when she swayed ever so slightly.
Hastily, Illidan leapt off of the saddle and stood beside her, placing his hand over hers. "Don't rush yourself, Eliana. You've barely recovered, and I would've helped you had you waited but a second."
"I know. I just..." She trailed off and looked up at him, imploring him to let her do this on her own with nothing more than her eyes. They didn't know each other well enough for her to know with certainty that he'd understand, but she knew he was perceptive enough to at least catch the gist of what she was asking.
After holding her gaze for a moment, much to her relief, he nodded imperceptibly before letting go of her hand. As he busied himself untying their packs from the saddle, she took a few deep breaths before straightening and turning around.
By this point, the majority of the soldiers had returned to whatever they'd been doing when the two of them had arrived. The encampment was ill-lit; there were only a few lanterns posted in the dirt, scattered throughout the entire clearing. It explained the dim glow they'd seen farther back on the path. She scanned the camp, looking for Cytheas, but when she didn't see him anywhere, she sucked in a concerned breath.
With their bags slung over his shoulders, Illidan sidled up to her. Her face must've been easily read, because one glance in her direction had him saying, "He's here, Eliana. Probably in Ravencrest's tent, if I had to wager a guess. Come on."
She followed him down the main path of the encampment with her head held high and arms swinging confidently at her side. Eventually, curiosity got the best of her, and she watched the soldiers at their work, polishing their sets of armor and various weapons. This was a side of war that she'd never seen before: the bleak preparations, the pall in the air, the reality of it; the dark expressions on each elf's face—dread, fear.
Elune required her priestesses to be well-versed in the art of war, but not in the mindset of it. They knew how to dance with their blades or their bows, how to strike in the most lethal positions in the most graceful of ways. What they didn't know was how to hate the enemy with undying passion, or the absolute fear that crippled these soldiers. They'd seen things she had never even thought of in her worst nightmares.
She'd never wanted to know how that felt, and yet, here they were, in an encampment on the brink of a war that had snuck up on them.
How had it come to this?
Up ahead, an elaborately decorated, deep plum, velvet tent stood before them. It was easy to surmise that that was Lord Ravencrest's tent, and her previous confusion at how Illidan had known where to go when he hadn't yet been here dissipated. Anyone with eyes could have found their destination.
They came to a stop in front of the tent, and in low tones, Illidan spoke to one of the sentries posted outside. The soldier promptly disappeared into the tent. A few seconds later, he popped his head back out and beckoned to Illidan, who grasped Eliana's hand and gently pulled her forward, holding up the tent flap for her as she passed under.
Her footsteps were muffled by the opulent rug that rested over the ground, and once she was all the way inside, she straightened, clutching the folds of her thin skirt. The interior of the tent was brighter than the rest of the camp due to the blazing flames of multiple candles that were strewn about the space. The warm light from the candles gave the tent a cozy feeling—so cozy, she had to remind herself that it was a commander's tent, even though it looked more like a noble's living space. It wasn't exactly the type of environment one should associate with coziness, or a true sense of welcoming. It was a place of strategy, of war.
Behind the massive table in front of her stood the commander himself in all of his glory. He was just as ornately dressed as the last time she'd seen him, and she found herself wondering whether he truly lived up to his reputation. When he spotted Illidan, he nodded in greeting and Illidan respectfully inclined his head.
Cytheas was standing to the side of the commander, his gaze focused on the map that was spread out across the table. The soldier who had announced their arrival left the tent, and when Eliana's gaze followed him out, she saw another male standing off to the far end of the tent. At first, she pegged him for one of their own, but the brightness of his hair prompted her to look again, and she realized that he wasn't entirely all that similar.
His features were softer, though he was nearly as tall as Cytheas and Illidan. Unlike their own pointed, elongated ears, his were rounded at the top. The features of his face were similarly shaped—softer, less harsh than the features of a Night Elf. His stature was also wider, almost stocky in comparison to the lean strength of an Elf.
What made him stand apart from the others in the room was the color of his skin and his hair. Most Night Elves' skin tones varied in shades of purple, though paler shades of blue and pink weren't uncommon. Hair could be anywhere in the spectrum from a deep violet, to the rich navy of Tyrande and Cytheas, to the snowy white of her own strands. Yet this stranger had an almost peach-colored tone to his skin, with fiery, blazing red hair.
It was extremely peculiar, to say the least.
When their eyes met, he answered her questioning gaze with a wry smile. After a slight bow, he stated, "A pleasure, Priestess. My name is Rhonin."
Unsure of what protocol this situation called for, Eliana hesitantly offered a return curtsy. "The pleasure is mine, Sir Rhonin. I am Eliana."
He let out a nervous-sounding chuckle and waved his hands in the air in dismissal. "I'm no sir. Just Rhonin is fine."
The sound of their conversation prompted Cytheas to look up, and when he saw Eliana standing beside Illidan, he came out from behind the table. "Eliana! You look better."
"I am better," she reassured him. "I was just—with everything going on, I was a bit overwhelmed. I'm fine now."
Cytheas moved to the other side of her, opposite from Illidan, and gently placed his hand under her elbow. "I thought you'd still be unconscious, so I requested a private tent from Lord Ravencrest. Do you want to lay down for a bit?"
She opened her mouth to protest, but Lord Ravencrest interrupted her. "We will stay camped here until sundown tomorrow, so I suggest that you take this opportunity to rest, young priestess."
There was something in his tone that sounded the slightest bit condescending, and she tilted her chin up defiantly as she replied in an acerbic tone, "I feel perfectly fine, Lord Ravencrest, but I thank you for your hospitality."
As if he was surprised by her gall, Ravencrest shifted in place and peered down his nose at her. Before either of them could say anything else, Cytheas grasped her upper arm and pushed her lightly towards the exit. "I'll show you where your tent is, just in case you wish to take Lord Ravencrest's advice at a later time, hm?"
Under her breath, she indignantly muttered, "I am not tired."
"Eliana, it does not matter whether you are or aren't," he replied, equally as quiet. "You can't speak back to my superior officer that way. Not after I've asked him for a personal favor in order to let you stay here at the encampment."
They were just pushing through the tent flap when Lord Ravencrest called out to them. "Illidan, I wish to speak with you for a moment. Do you mind staying behind?"
The three of them paused in the opening, and Illidan met Eliana's gaze briefly before turning around and nodding to the commander. "Of course not, my lord." He faced her again and softly said, "I'll come find you once I'm done."
She nodded in response, and Cytheas led her out of the tent. Once they were outside, she pulled her arm from his grip. "I can walk just fine, Cyth."
"I'm sorry, I know you can. It's all about appearances here." He hung a left and walked away from Lord Ravencrest's massive, opulent tent, and led her past a few smaller, less ostentatious ones.
"It's about appearances for me too, you know. I'm not someone who needs to be coddled, and I don't want to seem like I am," she replied defensively.
"Why does it matter? You'll likely never see any of these soldiers again," he said over his shoulder.
"Because if I'm to fight with you and your peers, I need them to believe in my abilities—that I don't need to be watched every second of the fight."
He whirled around, his eyes stern. "Do you honestly plan on fighting with us, Eli?"
Surprised, she stared at him in silence. A few seconds passed before she stated, "Of course I do. That's why I came with you."
"Yes, I know that's what you said at the Temple, but this is war, Eliana. This is serious. It isn't like when we spar, or even like when you were training. Elves will die, and many of the ones you see here will never see their families again."
Anger welled up in her at his tone of voice. He was speaking to her like a child, and doing exactly what she hadn't wanted the other soldiers to do. The difference in situation was that this was Cytheas, her oldest and dearest friend. He was supposed to believe in her, believe that she could do whatever she put her mind to, and yet he was speaking down to her as if she didn't understand the concept of war. She may have never experienced it firsthand, but she knew what it meant. She knew that it meant death and destruction, and horrific things she'd yet to see.
She was not a child.
"I would like to go to my tent now," she muttered, lowering her gaze to the floor.
"Are you feeling unwell again?" He stepped forward and touched her forehead with the back of his hand.
Though his concern for her was touching, she was still far too irritated with him to appreciate the gesture. "I'm simply tired. I'd like to lay down," she lied, pretending that she felt the way everyone assumed she should feel.
"I thought as much. Follow me," he instructed, before grasping her hand in his and leading her down the path again.
Apparently, they'd been close to their destination when their conversation veered off, and it was only a few steps later that Cytheas came to a stop in front of a rather small tent. It rested slightly farther away from the rest of the encampment, and Eliana was surprised at how close the treeline was.
"For privacy," Cytheas explained, when he noticed her staring at their surroundings.
She offered nothing more than a nod to his explanation. It made sense, considering she was likely the only female in the entire camp. If Cytheas was worried about privacy, it made her question whether he had legitimate reason to. Mildly concerned, she looked at him and asked, "Should I be worried?"
"About the other soldiers bothering you? No. I've already arranged to have someone posted outside your tent all night. If it isn't me, it'll likely be Jarod."
"Oh, Jarod is here?" Even though she knew he wasn't going to pop out of the forest on cue, she still glanced over Cytheas' shoulder, looking for a familiar face.
"Yes, but he's over on the other side of the camp, with the rest of the troops. We're sharing tents, otherwise I would've moved mine closer," he said with a slight smile.
Her previous ire had lessened somewhat, so she returned his smile with a tiny one of her own. "Thank you, Cyth, for setting this all up for me. I—though I feel fine, it would be nice to have some private time to just...process what has happened."
"That's what I was thinking you would want to do, though I was relieved to see you up and about, walking on your own."
"I fainted, I didn't break an ankle," she replied.
He rolled his eyes in response. "I know, but you were unconscious for quite awhile." A few shouts came from the camp behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder for a second before facing her again. "I have to go check in with the rest of them. Will you be all right for a few hours on your own?"
"Yes, I think so."
"I'll make sure to tell Jarod to head over here as soon as he can. I should be back around sunrise."
"I'll be fine, Cytheas. If you can't return, I can handle myself."
Briefly, he cradled her cheek. "I know you can. Don't do anything stupid until I get back, hm?"
She waved her hand at him before crossing her arms. "I won't. Now go!"
He backpedaled, keeping his eyes on her until he reached the bend in the path. Once he'd turned around and disappeared behind the multitude of tents, she lifted the flap of her own tent and headed inside.
It was sparsely decorated, though someone had clearly taken the time to hunt down finer quality furnishings than she imagined the rest of the soldiers received. A thin, woven rug lined the floor of the tent, and instead of a standard cot, a few crates had been put together to make the base for a bed. A mattress big enough for one elf to lay down comfortably rested atop the crates, and a pelt that looked surprisingly soft had been lain over it. One fluffy pillow lay semi-hidden underneath the coverlet, and she meandered over to the bed to poke it, surprised to find how plush it really was.
Beside the bed stood another crate with nothing more than a lit candle resting on top of it. On the other end of the tent, next to the entrance, was a pedestal. Someone had placed a pitcher of water and an empty bowl on it, and she walked back across the space, thinking that washing her face sounded heavenly right about now.
One glance around the tent reminded her that Illidan had taken their packs from Kal'shalla, and she hadn't grabbed hers when she and Cytheas had left Lord Ravencrest's tent. Her change of clothes and toiletries were in the pack, and she groaned at the realization that freshening up would have to wait.
With a sigh, she returned to the bed and sank down onto it. She'd only been sitting there for a minute or two before she felt her eyelids droop, and the brief thought that laying down for but a moment wouldn't hurt flitted across her mind.
Before she knew it, she was fast asleep.
The gradual lightening of the sky woke Eliana, hours later, and she blinked at the uncomfortable brightness that was seeping into her tent. She'd assumed that the fabric had been thick enough to block out the light, but apparently, that wasn't the case. With a groan, she sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes before planting her feet on the ground.
After slipping her feet into her sandals, she headed outside. The camp was eerily quiet, what with all of the soldiers fast asleep for the day. It was a stark contrast to how it had been when they'd arrived earlier, and she crossed her arms over her chest, feeling oddly vulnerable without auditory reassurance that she wasn't alone.
Neither Jarod nor Cytheas were anywhere to be found outside of her tent. Feeling a slight sense of panic, Eliana paced back and forth for a bit before shaking her head at her own ridiculousness. If they weren't here, she'd simply have to go and find them. After all, she was the one who kept insisting that she wasn't useless, right?
Perhaps they stepped into the forest for a break—to relieve themselves, or something. Males do that, don't they?
Determined, she stalked past her tent and into the trees, telling herself she wouldn't go far if she didn't spot them. As she walked, she kept her gaze on the path ahead, but let her thoughts wander. She was still a bit drowsy from waking up, and the warm sunlight didn't help things, either. Her thoughts drifted from her father, to Tyrande and Malfurion back in Suramar. Finally, they settled on Illidan and the kiss they'd shared at the Temple.
Absentmindedly, she lifted her fingers to her lips and touched them, marveling at the fact that it had actually happened. Never would she have thought that her greatest dreams would come true, and yet, they had. She was a Priestess of Elune, like her mother before her, and she and Illidan had shared a kiss. It sounded juvenile to be happy about such things, but she couldn't deny the elation she felt.
However, it was mitigated by the knowledge that her people were going to war with a force that was equal parts dangerous and horrific. She'd yet to see these demonic creatures, but both Cytheas and Illidan seemed to be convinced of their existence. If it hadn't been for the utter terror and immense pain that she had felt coming from her fellow sisters at the capital when they'd perished, she'd have been inclined to doubt them.
Minutes later, and more than a few feet into the forest, she came to a halt on the path. If she hadn't seen either Cytheas or Jarod by now, it was likelier that they were back in the camp rather than all the way out here. She turned around to head back when she collided into a hard chest and stumbled backwards.
Since her thoughts had recently been on more morbid topics, she felt a surge of panic overtake her. She whirled around, intending on running away from what she thought was a demon. It grabbed her arms, and she flailed in its grasp, gasping for air in her panic.
"Eliana! Eliana, it's me!"
She paused and glanced back over her shoulder at the supposed demon, jumping in surprise when she realized it was actually Illidan.
"Illidan? What are you doing out here?"
Finally, he released her arms and stepped back. "I saw you heading into the forest and followed you. I called out to you a few times, but you didn't appear to hear me. I was...worried about you being out here by yourself."
"Why is everyone so worried about me being alone?" she asked, crossing her arms as she let out an exasperated sigh.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Well, for one, we are in a camp filled with soldiers that I'm sure would appreciate a Priestess of Elune's presence in more ways than one. Two, we are at war and only a few miles from Zin-Azshari. The forest could be filled with creatures that we've yet to find. It isn't the smartest idea, heading out here alone." A beat passed before he added, "Oh, and third, you've just found out your father is missing. I can't imagine you're in the best mindset right now."
"I'm not overcome with grief, if that's what you're saying. I'm not some feeble female who is crippled by her emotions, and therefore, cannot function."
Seemingly confused by her heated response, he furrowed his eyebrows. "I never said that you were. Anyone would be affected by such a discovery, Eliana, female or otherwise."
Feeling suddenly drained, she let out a long sigh before replying, "I'm sorry. I don't know why I keep snapping at everyone. Cytheas tried to ask me if I was all right earlier, and I practically bit his head off."
"Much has happened in the past two days. You just need time for everything to settle," he said with a shrug.
"Perhaps that's true. He did suggest I take some time alone to relax, to think, but it's difficult. It's...too quiet out here."
"It is, isn't it?" he murmured, glancing upwards at the trees.
She followed his gaze, squinting at the sunlight that filtered down through the canopy of leaves above them. After staring upwards for a few seconds, her eyes met his once more. "What are you doing out here in the middle of the day?"
"I was on watch. I left to grab your pack, and when I came back, I saw you disappearing into the trees."
"On watch...for me? Did Cytheas ask you to?"
Illidan nodded, before reaching his hand out to her. "How about we finish this conversation back at your tent? I feel a bit unsettled standing out here in the open."
A flash of nerves ran through her at his offer, but she still slid her hand into his. He interlaced their fingers before leading her back the way they'd come. She rested her other hand on his forearm as they walked, reveling in the warmth of his touch. Underneath her palm, his muscles were taut with caution, and the realization that he was prepared to protect her from the enemy—who could appear at any moment—hit her. She'd been truly foolish to venture into the woods without any real protection; she had no weapons on her, and was wearing nothing but her thin initiate dress and flimsy sandals.
Her gratitude humbled her, and she tightened her fingers around his. He glanced down at her, a silent question in his eyes, but she shook her head in response. A few minutes passed in silence, and it wasn't until they could see her tent through the treeline that she piped up. "Illidan...may I ask you a question?"
"You mean besides the one you've just asked?"
She rolled her eyes at his quip, and replied, "Yes, besides that one."
By then, they were standing just outside her tent, and he reached out to lift the flap for her to enter. She smiled at the fact that it was the second time he'd done so, and ducked under his arm. Once he was also inside, he let the flap drop. It was still incredibly bright inside, and since the sun was at its apex, it was also rather humid.
Luckily, her dress was thin, so it didn't bother her too much. Illidan, however, was still wearing his leather jerkin and pants, and had to be uncomfortable in the heat. She gestured to him with a grimace, and asked, "Isn't there a change of clothing for you somewhere in the camp?"
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" he asked, looking down at himself.
"Nothing. It just seems like you'd be rather warm in it."
He waved his hand dismissively, before crossing his arms. "I assume that isn't what you wanted to ask me."
She chuckled nervously before shaking her head. After sitting down on the bed, she gazed up at him, inspecting his features as she tried to find the nerve to ask him why he'd kissed her. Was it merely because he'd been swept up in the moment? Or was it something deeper, something more along the lines of how she felt?
He matched the intensity of her stare, and somewhere in the few seconds that they gazed into each other's eyes, the atmosphere in the tent shifted towards something more intimate. It felt like the air between them was charged with unseen energy—the same chemistry that had surrounded them when they'd kissed at the Temple. Eliana shifted on the bed, breaking eye contact to stare down at her fingers, though it didn't lessen the tension in the air one bit.
"Why did you kiss me?" she blurted out before she could change her mind, still staring at her hands.
Too afraid to look back up at him, she continued studying the lines in her fingers. His initial response was a long, drawn-out sigh, and she cringed ever-so-slightly at his apparent exasperation. He probably thought she was a child who knew nothing about the world and how it worked.
She did, though, and that was partially the reason she had to know why he'd done it. She had to know whether she had reason to let her heart hope that perhaps, just maybe, he cared about her, too.
When a few more seconds passed and he still hadn't spoken, she finally looked up at him. He still had his arms crossed over his wide chest, and was staring down his nose at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Biding time, she followed the lines of his face, of his straight, prominent nose, the strong angle of his jawline.
Finally, after what felt like eons, he replied, "I don't know."
Eliana's heart sank and her gaze fell, focusing on a nondescript spot on his jerkin instead of his face. "I see."
Another sigh left him, though this one was short and sounded more frustrated. "You misunderstand me. I do not regret kissing you. I simply...at the time, I wasn't thinking about what it meant, or what would follow. I did it because it is what I wanted to do—and what I sensed you wanted—in that moment. I know that may not be what you want to hear—"
She held up her hand, interrupting him. In an stiff voice, she said, "You answered my question. Thank you for that."
He crossed the room swiftly, coming to a halt just in front of her. She leaned back, craning her neck to peer up at him. After studying her intently for a second, he kneeled in front of her, putting him at eye-level. "You're not hearing what I'm saying. I did it because I wanted to, Eliana."
That previously tiny spark of hope in her heart flared, and she blinked at him in slight confusion. "What are you...you're right. I don't quite follow."
In a motion so slow, she'd almost guess that he was feeling hesitant, he reached up and cradled her cheek with his hand. "I care about you. It's taken me some time to see that clearly, but I do."
Briefly, she allowed herself to revel in the moment and nuzzled his hand. Then, she pulled away, and he let his hand fall. "But you love Tyrande. You've never hidden that fact from me, or anyone else."
"I do love her, and I have for quite some time. I...think that I always will. But I care about you as well, Eliana. I know that isn't the perfect answer, nor is it likely the one you wanted to hear, but I won't lie to you."
"I suppose I should be happy about that," she whispered.
Again, he cradled her cheek, this time running his thumb along the high ridge of her cheekbone. The same heated tension from earlier returned, and she sucked in a shaky breath as she tried to calm her nerves. Despite the fact that he'd said little, Illidan always had a way of changing in the energy in the room with one touch, or one look. As he gazed into her eyes and absentmindedly traced the line of her jaw, her lips parted in eager anticipation.
His eyes flickered down to her mouth, and he swept his thumb up from her chin before dragging it across her lower lip. Nervous, she moved to lick her lips, not even thinking about the fact that his finger was right there. As a result, her tongue grazed the tip of his thumb, and his eyes darkened with lust.
Before her mind could catch up with her actions, his lips were pressed against hers. His arms wound around her waist and he leaned her back on the bed, deepening the kiss as they moved. When his tongue slid along the length of hers, the muscles in her lower abdomen tightened and she let out a breathy moan that was quickly devoured by him.
Sometime in the space of the few minutes they'd been lost in each other, he'd ended up bracing himself above her, his arms now on either side of her head. They broke apart for air, and he gazed down at her with far more intensity in his eyes than the first time they'd kissed. Lost in the moment, she reached up and placed her hand against his cheek, basking in his presence, in his touch.
"I cannot deny that I care about you," he murmured.
"Just as I cannot deny the way I feel for you, even if you do love someone else." Her eyes darted away before returning to his once more, and he pressed a finger to her lips.
"Let's not talk about that right now. Not when it's just you and I."
Overcome with a sense of bravery she knew she didn't truly have, she snaked her arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. This one was much shorter than the one before, and she could sense he was holding back. After pulling away, she stared up at him in confusion.
He placed a chaste kiss to her lips before explaining, "It's nearly sundown. You should try to get some more rest before we continue on to Zin-Azshari."
She let out a conceding sigh; he was still so close to her that her breath ruffled an errant lock of hair that had fallen out of his ponytail. "I cannot fall back asleep when it is so bright outside."
"Luckily for you, I can help with that." He slid off of her and back to the ground, before rising to his feet. He curled his hand into a tight fist, and after a pale silver aura surrounded it, he waved his hand. The tent fell dark, illuminated once again by only the sole candle on the crate beside the bed.
"What…" Eliana trailed off, sitting up on the bed in awe.
"Magic is useful in more situations than just battle," Illidan offered with a shrug.
"Where were you when I was trying to fall asleep earlier," she jested, smiling at his clear talent for the arcane arts.
He mirrored her expression before offhandedly gesturing to the exit. "I'll keep watch outside and let you know once we're preparing to leave."
She crossed her legs and remained on the bed. "Thank you, Illidan."
After a parting nod, he lifted the flap and left the tent. She could hear the grass rustling as he sat down, presumably right beside the opening. Now that the tent wasn't humid and blindingly bright, she laid down to try and get some real rest before they needed to head out. Illidan was right: if they were going into a potential battlezone, she needed to be as alert and prepared as possible.
With the tent now a comfortable sleeping environment, Eliana let her eyes drift shut. Not long after, she was fast asleep, with the knowledge that Illidan was right outside, protecting her in her vulnerability at the forefront of her dreams.
Once the moon rose, the camp burst to life. The voices of the soldiers permeated the forest, and when it reached Eliana's tent, she opened her eyes with a start. She'd barely sat up in bed when Illidan popped his head into the tent.
"Oh, you're already awake," he noted.
"Barely. I take it everyone's getting ready to leave?" she asked in a hoarse voice as she rubbed her eyes.
He slid into the tent with her pack in his hand. After depositing it on the ground, he nodded and crossed his arms. "Yes. Once you've finished getting ready, I need to start taking down your tent."
"I will hurry. I'll come out and help you once I'm finished."
He nodded and walked back outside. Once the flap had fallen shut, she slid off of the bed and rummaged through her pack, pulling out her leather leggings and her own jerkin. Most of the priestesses wore elaborate armor sets that left their abdomen and legs bare, but Eliana preferred more coverage. Since she used a set of daggers and not a bow, she was often slinking through the underbrush, and it didn't make sense to expose herself to more elements than necessary.
Quickly, she dressed and pulled on her boots before heading to the water basin to wash her face. It took her a few seconds to re-braid her hair, and she tossed it over her shoulder once she was finished securing the ends. After clipping her weapons belt around her hips, she sheathed the daggers she'd brought from the Temple. They'd been a gift from Cytheas when they'd first started sparring together, and despite the fact that they were smaller than she'd usually prefer, they allowed for quicker movements. That, and she sharpened them on a nightly basis. They were more ready for the frontlines of a battlefield than she was.
She slung her pack over her shoulder and stepped outside, nearly colliding with Illidan who'd been pacing back and forth impatiently. He mumbled an apology before heading back inside and dragging out the furniture. Once everything was out of the tent, he pulled out the first of the stakes that secured the tent in place. She watched him for a few seconds before bending down to help him.
Before long, they had a pile of stakes and a neatly folded canvas tent. They piled the sparse furnishings beside the tent, and it was then that Cytheas came stomping down the path. When he spotted the two of them standing side by side, admiring their quick handiwork, he froze in place.
"Illidan? What are you doing out here?" he questioned as he sidled up to them.
"Helping Eliana, obviously," Illidan sniped.
Appearing to be confused, Cytheas watched Illidan gather the tent in his arms with cinched eyebrows. "Where is Jarod?"
With a noncommittal shrug, Illidan disappeared down the path and back into the main camp. Cytheas scoffed at the other male's attitude before facing Eliana.
"Did Jarod not keep watch last night?" he asked again.
She mirrored his expression and drew her eyebrows together, equally as confused. "Jarod? No, Illidan said that you'd asked him to."
Cytheas rolled his eyes before angrily shaking his head. "Of course. I am sure he did just that." After grabbing one of the crates from the pile, he stalked down the path, muttering under his breath.
What in the world is wrong with the two of them?
With a frustrated grunt, she too lifted a crate and followed after him. Everyone was piling bits and pieces of furniture by a large wagon, so she and Cytheas deposited their crates there. They turned around and he gestured to the herd of sabercats beyond the slowly depleting line of tents.
"If you want to saddle up, I'll meet you over there in a few minutes. Illidan and I are riding at the front with Lord Ravencrest, so I need to show you where you'll be in the lineup."
"I won't be with you?" Eliana asked before pressing her mouth into a thin line. Even though she knew what was going to come out of his mouth the second she asked, she still wanted to hear him verbally confirm it.
"No, you won't," he said as he shook his head fervently. "You'll be riding in the middle of the unit, where it's safest."
She opened her mouth to argue when Illidan and Lord Ravencrest appeared from around the bend. Illidan shook his head imperceptibly at her, warning her not to argue with Cytheas, and after sharing a heated look with him, she closed her mouth with a snap. Fed up with being treated like a fragile female, she whirled around and headed for the sabers.
"Males," she muttered under her breath.
With jerky movements, she secured her pack to Kal'shalla's saddle. After letting out a huff, she pulled herself up and situated herself behind the pommel. Once she was settled, she led them to the middle of the herd, nodding a silent greeting to the soldiers who were to flank her. They respectfully touched their hearts in acknowledgement of her status, before tightening their ranks and scooting their mounts closer.
It seemed like ages before the entire camp was packed up, and the many soldiers were all mounted and ready to leave. Eliana stewed the entire time, and her anger didn't dissipate until Lord Ravencrest raised his arm and shouted, "Move out!"
Like one cohesive being, the entire battalion shifted forward and soon enough, they were racing towards Zin-Azshari. Up at the front of the herd, Eliana spotted Illidan's ebony ponytail swinging back and forth. Right beside him rode the flame-haired stranger, and to Ravencrest's left rode Cytheas. Even though she couldn't ride with them, at least they were in her sights. Knowing they were still close by reassured her immensely, and she gripped her reins tighter as they approached the capital.
As the forest flew by on either side of them, Eliana's eyes turned towards the sky. The comforting normalcy of midnight blue gradually transitioned to an eerie, unnatural green, and Eliana gazed upward in abject horror.
"What in Elune's name?" she whispered. The soldiers beside her overheard her, and they followed her eyes upward. When they too noticed the change, they briefly touched their foreheads and then their hearts in quick prayer.
From the front lines, Lord Ravencrest called for a halt just before they crested over the hill. She was too far back to hear what they were saying, but she could tell he was discussing something with Cytheas and Rhonin. None of them looked particularly happy, and when Illidan pointed straight ahead, right at the capitol, they all faced forward again.
A faint rumble shook the ground, and Eliana and the soldiers around her glanced down before looking at each other in confusion. She couldn't see past the wide-reaching ranks of the soldiers ahead of her, but she didn't have to in order to know that whatever was coming was not good. As the vibration intensified, she looked ahead in fear, wishing more than anything that she could at least see what the enemy looked like so she knew what to expect.
Cytheas turned around and appeared to be frantically searching for her. When their eyes met, he gestured to the edge of the forest frantically, panic causing his motions to be more erratic. She raised her hand in confusion, trying to tell him that she didn't understand. A guttural, terrifying roar pierced the air, and she hunkered down in her saddle, covering her ears. The initial roar was followed by the sound of multiple screeches, and it resonated through the forest around them.
By the time she'd recovered, though still crippled by fear, Cytheas had turned back around to face the oncoming threat. He'd pulled his longsword from the sheath at his side, and both Illidan and the red-haired stranger had their hands raised, enveloped with the glowing aura of arcane energy.
Seconds later, the first demon Eliana had ever seen in her life came over the peak of the hill. Its leathery wings spanned across the sky, illuminated from behind by the perverse, emerald glow coming from their beloved capital. Horns sharper than she'd ever seen arced skyward, and it had skin deeper than crimson—a sinister, twisted shade of red unlike any other. It clenched its fists and let out another roar, and as if on command, strange creatures on all fours with undulating tentacle-like appendages darted out and attacked the Night Elven ranks.
The first screams of death and pain filled the air, and Eliana felt the ripples of agony spread through the air. Closing her eyes which had welled with tears, she tried to stem the panic that threatened to overtake her. After she took a few deep breaths, she grasped the hilts of her daggers as she opened them again. Clenching her jaw, she unsheathed them and held them at the ready as the soldiers beside her raced off to answer the calls of battle.
Whether or not she was ready, war was here.
A/N:
First things first, many thanks to Arenoptara and angelacm for beta-reading for me. This chapter wasn't necessarily the longest or the most plot-heavy, but for some reason, I'm really proud of the finished product. I hope you guys enjoyed it as well!
As always, many thanks to my reviewers and/or new favorites and follows. Namely, Bohmzawe, Terikel, skyblueocean, potatoguest, JPElles, and angelacm for binge-reading three chapters! I loved reading all of your guys' thoughts, so keep 'em coming!
Obviously as we see at the end of the chapter, the more battle-heavy, action-packed portion of the story has arrived! We're nearly at the end of the first book in the trilogy, so I'm really excited to start exploring Illidan's gradual transformation to the character we all know and love. Again, many thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved or followed! See you guys next time :)
EDIT 4/7/16: For anyone who has read this chapter recently and/or is waiting for an update, all of my stories have been placed on semi-hiatus until the end of the semester, which is the first week of May. I'm going to continue working on upcoming chapters for all three of my WIPs, but with how busy I'm going to be in the coming weeks with finals and remaining assignments, I hesitate to commit to getting an update out on time. Realistically speaking, my free-time is few and far between lately, and I don't want everyone to worry about lack of updates. I've not forgotten about the story, I promise! Until then, I appreciate everyone who is still reading and cares about this story as much as I do :)