Baine Bloodhoof had never seen anything like the orcs' savage efficiency. They had decimated the centaur who had been terrorizing the tauren. He'd stood with his father Cairne, their chieftain, and all the Tauren in gratitude. Now he found himself observing and working to discern what sort of people the orcs were. With them had come trolls as well, refugees from an island homeland that had been sinking into the sea, and it was apparent that all of them had come to Kalimdor from less than ideal circumstances.

There was little left in the Barrens for the tauren, the centaurs had driven away or hunted all the game, the land was dry and unsuited for farming. Green things did not grow as once before, and the land truly lived up to its name. They needed desperately to make their way to Mulgore, somewhere lush where they would flourish again.

As they sat around a fire, Thrall and Cairne shared their views and beliefs and unexpectedly the orcs had many commonalities with the tauren. They both revered the elements and connection to the world, sharing a shamanistic nature eased the way for forming a bond of friendship. Honor, too, was held in highest esteem, and fighting to protect their people, to carve out a life and build a home in this world.

Thrall and his orcs had agreed to travel with the tauren to keep their caravan safe from the other roving bands of centaurs that would seek to catch them vulnerable. In return, his father, Cairne, would tell them how to find the sought-after oracle in Stonetalon Peak. They would depart at sunrise and Baine was excited to be leaving the desolate Barrens.

There was a sudden commotion, several orcs had gotten to their feet and there was a high, panicked female voice that didn't sound orcish at all. Even Thrall turned to look, expecting perhaps something amusing, but he frowned at what his eyes met.

"What is it, Thrall?" Cairne asked, growing concerned as the orc Warchief rose to his feet.

"The elven woman…something is wrong…" He replied.

"Elven woman?" Baine said in surprise. He didn't think the night elves had much reason or desire to make their way into the Barrens.

"Yes…many of the orcs owe her their lives, she is gravely ill, but it isn't physical, she is a mage, a powerful one, but her power and strength were drained…I was not able myself to mend her." Thrall explained. "It seems it is worsening…is there anything you know of that could be done to save her?"

"Is one elf so important?" Cairne glanced at Baine as though to shrug.

"She is unwell because of saving several ships full of orcs, we owe her a great debt as well as our honor and respect." Thrall was completely serious.

"There may be a place. Baine…see to the elf, see what ails her and perhaps if there are any volunteers, she can be taken to the cave." Cairne ordered.

"Yes, father." He replied.

Baine rose to his feet and followed Thrall through the camp to where the elven woman lay unconscious in the dry grass, but she was no night elf and her hysterical companion was no elf at all. Crouched beside the elf, her head in his hand, was the orc who had earlier introduced himself as Varok Saurfang. He was an experienced warrior, as was evident by his age. So far, he had given no indication, subtle or otherwise to what he was thinking. He was calm, lacking the raging impulsiveness of younger warriors, but he was no less fearsome, in fact his stillness and calculating eyes perhaps made him that much more imposing. Saurfang was not an orc Baine would ever want to meet in combat, he'd have better luck against three young warriors. On the battlefield, Saurfang cut down enough centaur that they began trying to avoid him, to no avail; in the end, all he stood against met with his axe.

"Saurfang." Thrall said as they approached. "What is it?"

"It is worse, she will not wake." Saurfang told him, and gently put her down. He stood and glanced at Baine, who wondered how the care of the elf had fallen to one of the Warchief's most respected advisors. The orcs looked to Saurfang and saw the battle-hardened commander of armies and little else, in truth it was difficult to see more than that as he was self-contained with incredible control. It was not likely anyone else noticed that his concern for the elf was not obligation.

The woman attending Gylledra was unlike anyone Baine had seen before, she had an odd, ashen complexion, bright violet eyes with long hair that was a darker, iridescent hue of purple. Though what he noticed most were the modest black horns on the top of her head. Baine's questions multiplied.

"What is her name?" Baine asked.

"Gylledra." Saurfang answered before the nearly-hyperventilating female could. "That is Nasorya."

"I am Baine Bloodhoof; my father, the chieftain, sent me to help." He told her.

"What can you do?" Nasorya asked. "The thing she summoned to move the ships…it was shadow…belonging to the void." She explained. "Such a creature requires unthinkable amounts power to exist here even for a short while…this one in particular sought to harm her and did so by draining her of her power…"

"Shadow?" Baine's brow furrowed; did he really want to assist with making a practitioner of darkness stronger again? The havoc she could wreak was unimaginable if she was as powerful as Thrall suggested. The tauren had enough trouble as it was. But…she had nearly sacrificed herself to spare the lives of hundreds of people who weren't even her own kind. That stood for something and spoke more of her character than the type of magic she practiced.

"She used to wear a pendant, it was a powerful source of arcane and it fed the dependence Nightborne have, but it too was destroyed." Nasorya clarified further.

"The place my father mentioned, it might help; it is a sacred place we have used for healing before. Different powers and energies converge there."

"When can we leave?" Saurfang asked and gazed down at the unconscious elf. "The sooner she is well again, the better." There was something between them, Baine was sure of it.

"We can leave at dawn." Baine told him. "She is…special to you, is she not?" He regretted the question as it came out of his mouth, but curiosity had outweighed his tact for a moment. Nasorya looked up, wide eyed, her gaze flicking back and forth between the grizzled orc and Baine.

"We leave at dawn." Saurfang replied in a growl. Baine thought it was very fortunate that looks were not deadly, but Saurfang's ears seemed to deepen in color just a bit. With that, he stalked off again and Baine looked back down at Nasorya whose expression was drawn with worry.

"I really hope this place of yours will do the trick, though if it does not, then her…her death will be an honorable one. Though I am not sure I can carry on without her."

At dawn, Baine took two of his trusted warriors, Natane and Hoto, then gathered a handful of kodo that could be spared from the caravan. Saurfang had with him a group of twelve or so orcs. A small party carrying virtually no goods would likely go unnoticed on their trek, so Baine hoped. Thrall and the rest of the orcs would be guarding the tauren convoy back to Mulgore, a much more perilous journey that, if Baine was being perfectly honest, he'd much rather be on. But orders were orders.

Nasorya got situated on her saddled kodo and Saurfang sat astride his own with Gylledra limply draped across his lap, her head supported in the crook of his elbow. From that location, it would be a day and a half of constant travel before they arrived at the nameless cave-spring in Dustwallow Marsh; at that point there was no telling what might happen or how long it might take, or if it would be where Gylledra died. He hoped the latter would not be the case, the death of someone important would not help foster friendship.

The journey began quietly, no one spoke. If it was to be so silent the entire time, it would feel like a century, Baine thought. Natane headed up the group, followed by most of the orcs, then Saurfang, the remaining orcs and Nasorya, then Baine and Hoto bringing up the rear. He was a little surprised when Nasorya hung back to ride beside him. He had some speculation as to her origin, but would say nothing; she didn't make his list of questions any shorter.

"They're cut from the same cloth." She told him. He didn't have to ask who.

"Is that so?"

"I have known her a very long time, and though we are as close as sisters, I've never heard her laugh ring as it does with him." She watched wistfully ahead of them, where the subjects of the conversation plodded along.

"Does he actually laugh?" Baine snorted.

"You'd never know it by looking." She smiled sadly. "Something grew between them in a few weeks that never grew between us in thousands of years."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that she needs to live, so that she can finally live." Though it seemed cryptic, Nasorya's answer made a certain amount of sense.

"How did you happen upon the orcs?" Baine decided to take advantage of Nasorya's willingness to make conversation.

"By accident…they were heading to a port to take ships to come here and we were trying to figure out who would believe us when we brought warning of the Burning Legion coming again." The nonchalant way she said it did nothing to allay the sudden clench he felt in his gut. Demons, yet another problem they didn't need.

"I see."

"Gylledra has been fighting them almost her whole life, and even before that she took none of those years for herself. That's why nothing would please me more if she finds even the smallest bit of happiness for herself…even if it ends up inexplicably coming from a grumpy old orc."

Baine found that by opening the door to conversation with Nasorya, he had bitten off more than he could chew. He'd wanted a diversion but he promised himself he'd be more careful about the silent wishes he made in the future. It wasn't terrible, but she was just…so much. He was certain that he heard Saurfang chuckle to himself more than once at the tauren's misfortune.

Her war stories were interesting, though she didn't look much like a warrior, however her informational tirade on the mating habits of an obscure bird from a destroyed world that somehow flowed seamlessly into the kinds of soup she liked was a bit bewildering.

When they stopped for a short rest, Baine thanked the Earth Mother for the blessed silence that resulted when Nasorya went at once to see to Gylledra. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly but he suddenly looked in the direction of a snapping twig, grateful beyond words that it was only Saurfang approaching. The amusement on the old orc's face was unexpected and Baine arched one brow at him in question.

"How is the ride so far?" Saurfang asked.

"You could have warned me." He replied, giving a half smile.

"I could have." The glint in Saurfang's eyes as he chuckled gave away that there was far more to him than the lethality of his swinging axe.

.

They'd stopped for only a couple of hours, traveling even through the night and the sun had crested midday when they finally arrived. The area was heavily wooded and didn't look or feel particularly special or restorative in Saurfang's opinion. The marsh was unpleasant and dreary. Nasorya was finally quiet as they set up a small camp in the glade near the cave entrance. It wasn't long before Baine approached, but he wore no armor, no weapons, and no extra adornments.

"In the cave there can be no instruments of war." He told them. "Not so much as a whittling knife, it is a place without conflict, and must remain pure."

"What will happen? Is someone staying with her or is she left in there, like baking bread?" Saurfang was agitated, and uncomfortable with the thought of leaving Gylledra unprotected in some unknown situation.

"Someone will need to be with her, yes." The tauren nodded.

"I will do it…of course." Nasorya stepped forward. Saurfang nodded in agreement, it did make the most sense and for however long she was down in the cave with Gylledra, they would have their own peace above ground while they waited.

"It is decided, let us not waste any more time, I will carry her down, the passage opens to a large cave which is lit by the water itself. You must both be unclothed, and you will take her into the water for…as long as it will take." Baine explained to Nasorya.

"I understand." She quickly removed her few pieces of jewelry and Baine bent, gently lifting Gylledra, who barely seemed alive.

Saurfang followed them to the mouth of the cave where Natane guarded, a spear in her hand. Baine stepped in, but Nasorya halted, a strange expression on her face.

"What is it?" He asked as a strange feeling slithered into his gut.

"I…cannot."

"Why not? It is simple enough, it is to save her life!" He didn't understand how or why Nasorya would suddenly change her mind, he knew very well how important Gylledra was to her.

"No, I cannot enter…it is not a choice, I cannot move myself to step in…I am not…being allowed." She looked at him, shocked and upset. Maybe she is a demon…Saurfang thought to himself, despite knowing it wasn't possible. This place was supposed to be holy, sacred, for healing…what was she that the earth itself denied her entrance?

"It is not my place to remain with her…" Baine started. Natane set her spear aside.

"Shall I…?" She stepped forward but Saurfang put a hand up.

"No, I will do it, there is no one else here who knows her." He let out a long breath. "It should not be a stranger."

"You think you know her?" There was a little acid in Nasorya's voice.

"Better than the rest of those who are here, wouldn't you agree?" He gave her a level stare and she looked down, nodding, still beside herself with worry. Saurfang removed his armor until he wore only his dark, heavy leather leggings. He had no idea what to expect, and he wondered too if he would be barred from this pure place because of the taint of demon blood that he still bore. When he stepped across the threshold, nothing held him back and Baine placed Gylledra in his arms. She was so thin, frail even, as she wasted away.

"We will wait here, for as long as it takes." The tauren told him solemnly.

The passage was narrow, but still wide enough that the walls did not touch Saurfang's broad shoulders. The walk was long and felt as if it went on for much farther than it should have. There were no torches or lamps, but the stone itself had…not light…but energy, perhaps…and he could see the way ahead of him with no trouble.

Finally, it opened into an expansive chamber with walls of warm, brown sandstone, thick stalactites hung from the ceiling, stalagmites reaching upward beneath them. In some places they had joined to make towering pillars of stone…the architecture of nature itself. Unseen springs fed the pool and while there was no visible stream, or exit for the water, it was not at all stagnant. Its water was crystal clear and luminescent, its reflection shimmering on the walls and ceiling.

Saurfang pulled himself from his awe of the cave and knelt, carefully setting Gylledra down on the sand which covered the floor. He mulled Baine's instructions over in his head. No weapons, no conflict…no clothes…then into the water…and wait. Wait for what? Would she suddenly wake up with all her strength returned as though nothing had happened? What if she lost her memory? She'd be waking up to an old, naked orc…he grimaced at the thought. It would be bad enough even if she didn't lose her memory.

Making quick work of the task at hand, he removed his trousers before he knelt, silently apologizing to Gylledra for removing her clothes without permission. It was to save her life, not for pleasure. His thoughts halted on the word for just a moment, lingering on the memory of how she had felt, how she had tasted…that night on the ship…NO. He frowned and redirected his thoughts to the magnificence of the cave. While the forest had been unremarkable, the cave even felt different, powerful.

With her clothes all set neatly aside, Saurfang unbound Gylledra's hair, the strands cool and soft in his hand as the braid unraveled. He picked her up again, turning to the glimmering water; it was like a strange, cavern beach, he felt the sand between his toes as he stepped in. The water temperature felt perfect, he'd expected it to be cold so far down.

Saurfang waded in to just above his waist, keeping Gylledra's face above the surface as her hair fanned out in the water. She looked as though merely asleep, but her breath was concerningly shallow. Then, it was as if something was gently pulling her from his arms and while his first instinct was to resist, to keep her in his grasp, he knew that it was the force that existed in this place taking effect. Gylledra drifted a few feet away, mysteriously buoyant and he thought the light grew a little brighter.

Unsure of what he should do, he turned to get out of the water but found he could not…his will to continue the movement vanished and he was unable to move forward. There was no force, nothing touching him, he simply could not make himself move. He wondered if this was what happened to Nasorya at the entrance of the cave. It raised the question of why the woman who had spent thousands of years as Gylledra's friend and companion had been barred from this place and instead he was chosen…wasn't he? Was it even possible?

Yes.

The thought appeared in his mind, but it wasn't necessarily his. When he turned back toward Gylledra, taking a step in her direction, he was unhindered again. He'd been batting away his thoughts of her since the moment they had met. She'd been naked then too…he gave a small laugh to himself. Indeed, he found her beautiful, it was all he could do to tear his eyes from her since their first encounter by the icy cold creek. But it wasn't only that…Gylledra understood things about war, about what it does to a warrior over time, she knew how it felt; they had sat talking beside the fire and then spent countless hours on the hellish journey across the sea speaking of things he'd never thought he'd discuss with another soul. He knew there were many orcs who shared the same experiences he had, but it was never talked about, everything stayed buried beneath honor and strength. She had uncovered the closed off parts of him, and she didn't even know it.

On Draenor, Saurfang had had a mate, one whom he'd loved, but she had died more than twenty years before. He'd believed the part of himself that sought such companionship had died with her. He'd intended to die a warrior's death in glorious battle, so it was no bother that he was alone, and he had never sought another. But he didn't die…and now here he was…naked in a cave with an unconscious, half-dead elf that he was feeling…feelings about. Life was funny…cruel, but funny.

What did it matter what he felt, though? He had no business feeling things about anyone, and Gylledra had gone over eleven thousand years without having any such desire, impulse, or need…she certainly wouldn't start now…would she? That night on the ship, she'd spoken of being lovers, not of anything more. If that was all she wanted of him, he wasn't interested. Saurfang harrumphed and folded his arms, it was futile either way and a waste of energy to even bother paying any heed to the thought of…

"Ahgh!" He felt a sharp prod in the back and whirled around, of course finding nothing. He narrowed his eyes, looking around the cave. Had he just been scolded for his pessimism?

Yes.

There it was again! There was also an urge to let suspicion and paranoia send him into defensiveness, but instead he felt soothed and calm, wrapped in warmth, the image of a warm hearth and a toy horse whittled from wood…a kind voice…Saurfang blinked in surprise, the unexpected memories of being a small child ought to have left him with regret and grief for the world that once was…for the life that once was…but whatever was in the cave wouldn't let him. He could think only of the joy from those things. Distantly he wondered if perhaps it was some sort of message telling him to think more of the joyful things.

His eyes darted around, waiting for the yes but there was only silence. He felt slightly mad, but didn't care as he also felt warm and content…unfamiliar sensations these days. Orcs did not expect or seek contentment.

There was no sense of time in the cave; had he been there for minutes? Hours? Longer? Usually, Saurfang was acutely aware of the passage of time, but here it didn't seem to exist at all. He might have been concerned about that but…the thought entered his mind and moved along just as all the others had. Except Gylledra…the thoughts of her would not move along at all and they grew stronger and more potent with each passing moment.

The water…he realized they were surrounded by water and earth, powerful elements. Water had brought them together, it had ushered them, though violently, across the sea and now it was water that hopefully restore Gylledra's strength and power. He watched her as she floated in the water, the arcane markings on her face and body shone again in the light. They had been dull and almost faded since the night of the storm. Somehow, he hadn't even seen it happen, gone was the gaunt, sickly thinness. The voluptuous curves were back, just as he remembered them.

He was hurtled back to the starkness of reality, yanked from the cocoon of happy thoughts as a shockwave of power burst forth from the pool. Gylledra took a sudden, gasping breath, her eyes opening before she immediately slipped beneath the surface of the water. Saurfang lunged, grabbing her by the waist to pull her back up again, spluttering and thrashing. She was back!

.

Gylledra wiped at her face to get the water out of her eyes, breathing hard. Her heart was pounding, and it felt sure and firm, but also, she felt like herself. She was strong again, the arcane coursing through her more potent than ever. She was whole, cured of the arcane dependence. After a moment of brief disorientation, she became aware of her surroundings, particularly the broad, green…and bare…chest and shoulders in front of her face.

"Varok…" She looked up into the familiar amber gaze and he smiled, looking relieved.

"I was worried you might not remember when you came to." He told her.

"That would have been…startling." She smirked, aware of their nakedness. She had not seen him in any state of undress since they had met and took the opportunity to inspect him…at least what was above the water. "Though, considering our history, however brief, startling me naked in the water is rather typical under the circumstances, no?" She grew increasingly conscious of his hands against her skin. "Though…this time you're naked too." She murmured, but pushed the thought out of mind, looking around them. It was a cave, though obviously she had no idea where. Judging by the way the water felt and looked, it was likely a convergence of ley lines. Little else would have been powerful enough to restore her.

"Are you…better?" Varok asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Yes…my strength and my power have returned." Gylledra replied, and he released her. The sand under her feet was soft and warm and she caught his hands, halting him. Her memory was back as well, more of their inebriated evening, and all the pieces of the storm…particularly what had happened as she'd begun her fall into darkness. "You have saved me twice now."

"After what you did for the orcs, of course I…" He began.

"That's what you want me to think?" She watched his face, unreadable as ever, though it seemed he was putting a good deal of effort in to remain that way. "On the ship, you opened your mind and bared everything that makes you who you are and something in that called me from the pit I was being pulled into. Such a thing cannot be done as an obligatory debt of honor, Varok." She moved closer, letting her hands lie on his chest, the smattering of hair coarse and soft at the same time beneath her fingers. But he took her hands, lifting them away gently.

"I cannot be your lover, Gylledra." He breathed.

"I do not want just a lover." She replied. The thought of him using her for mere physical gratification was painful, but if he felt nothing, he would not have been able to do what he did. "I know what I said may have made it seem like that was all I…" He kissed her, cutting off whatever she had been about to say, and pulled her against him, lifting her up. Gylledra put her arms around his neck, fully accepting his embrace. She felt his tongue stroke hers and she reciprocated, her body on fire with the need to be closer to him pumping through her veins. But the kiss was brief as he pulled back and pressed his face against her neck. The only sounds were their breath and the water around them. She stroked his hair, closing her eyes. Part of her wondered how in a few short weeks it had come to this, she had lived a very long time and met countless people, but none made her feel as she did now. She could feel the warmth of his breath and managed to stifle a groan as she felt his lips lightly press against her throat. One hand slid down to the small of her back and Gylledra's tentative grasp of her self-control was nearly lost altogether.

"I was sure you were lost." He told her. Pressed against him, she could feel the thrum of his deep voice in his chest, it hummed through her and Varok pulled back enough to look her in the eye. She shook her head.

"You weren't worried about me." She told him, a smile pulling up one side of her mouth. "You were just terrified of being stuck with Nas following the orcs around forever." He threw his head back and laughed, the sound of it echoing through the cave. Gylledra had never heard him laugh quite like that and she thought that the sound of it was something beautiful…but too rare and pressed her forehead to his. Varok exhaled a shuddering breath, holding her a little tighter.

She felt as though liquid fire had saturated every fiber of her being, pooling deep down, where an ache bloomed. His eyes looked somehow darker when he pulled back again and Gylledra realized how fast her heart was beating; she wanted him. There was no questioning whether or not the feeling was mutual, he was male, and therefore provided a convenient physical indicator, which at that moment was pressed firmly between them. She kissed him then, slow and languid making that ache even worse. It was the sort of kiss she imagined could only be a prelude to something else. He was getting carried away, she could feel it, but he pulled back.

"You must stop." Varok whispered. "Before I cannot." Gylledra bit her lower lip, debating on whether or not it seemed he truly wished to stop. "This is not how it is done."

"In a cave, you mean?" She asked, grinning. He watched her eyes, giving a sly smile then pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"We should get back to the others." He told her, his mouth close to her ear so that the heat of his breath sent a chill down her spine. His gaze seemed somehow darkened when he pulled back and the chill turned to fire. "They should know that you are well again." She nodded, simultaneously relieved and disappointed; he was right though, and reluctantly, he released her, exhaling sharply and closing his eyes as she slipped back into the water, sliding against him before her feet touched the bottom.

"I imagine Nas is beside herself…" She turned away from him, a little frustrated knot suddenly in her stomach as a number of feelings made their way through her. What had she really expected? This disconcerted, confusing amalgamation she felt now was precisely why she'd never given emotional entanglements any thought before. Her sole purpose was to warn, prepare, and try to protect this world from the Legion, yet she'd begun thinking of herself…of her own pleasure when she had no right…

"Gylledra." Varok reached for her arm, turning her to look at him again as she fought to keep the internal war she raged against herself off of her face. "It is not that I…" He paused, searching for words. "You've only just gotten well…mere moments ago." He wasn't wrong, obviously, and it was plain enough by his face and other indicators that it would have been only too easy to get swept away. The discomfort in her gut eased some. She did still feel out of sorts, with no idea what was going on or where they were…or how they'd gotten there. He was wise…and considerate; thinking of her and of what was right. Gylledra was in no state to be making rash decisions and while such a thing might not seem a very big decision to some, it was to her…and to Varok. She smiled up at him though, as he gave her shoulder a squeeze.

"I understand…you're right…and I have a lot of questions about…this." She gestured to the cave around them as he moved past her toward the edge of the pool.

"I will answer what little I can, I suppose." He told her. As he stood in the sand, dripping water, his back to her. Her questions had evaporated as he'd emerged from the water, and she could only stare.

Gylledra had seen plenty of naked men and women before, but she'd never felt anything beyond a passing acknowledgment of aesthetic beauty. She couldn't really say for sure what made Varok so different, only that he was and that to look at him in his entirety seemed to stunt her ability to form thoughts or words. He was the very embodiment of strength, the power in his muscled limbs was apparent. His shoulders were broad and her eyes trailed down his back to where his waist narrowed, strong thighs and legs… The ache at her core seemed to intensify and with his offer for answers being met with silence instead of questions, Varok turned around, which did nothing to help her snap out of her distraction. Gylledra closed her mouth, but unabashedly admired every inch of him, a little intimidated perhaps by one region in particular. He arched one brow at her, a smirk on his lips, but said nothing.

"Don't look so smug. You're not the first naked male I've ever seen." She strode out of the water then, feigning indifference. "Just…probably the first I've wanted to." She muttered quietly, but he heard her and gave a snort of amusement. "You've seen me plenty." She gave him a devious sort of look and he shrugged. With a small gesture of her hand, they were both immediately dry. There was nothing to dry off with otherwise or she wouldn't have used magic for such a simple task; though, she also wasn't sure her self-control or his resolve would hold out if they had to stand around undressed for much longer. "So, what is this place?" Gylledra asked as she braided her hair again. She could feel his eyes on her.

"The chieftain's son Baine brought us here, it was the only place they knew of that might help you." He told her, pulling his bottoms on again. She started dressing. "There is not much else I know about it, truly."

"Has Nas stopped referring to the tauren as those bipedal bovines?"

"I hope so, she's been up there with them this whole time."

They made their way through the winding passage and Gylledra had time to think about what had happened on the ship in the storm. It had been foolish to summon Etzanel and partly she wanted to blame the residual intoxication that had addled her brain that night. It had nearly cost her life, and had she not been taken to this powerful place of magic where nature and a number of leylines all converged, she would not have made it.

"Varok." She reached out and took his hand, stopping him before they went around the final bend of the passage. He turned toward her, closing his hand over hers. "You have done so much for me…more even than you probably know. You didn't need to be kind to me, you could have cut my head off and been done with it…I just want you to know how grateful I am…"

"It has been an honor, Gylledra, one which I hope continues." Without releasing her hand, he led her around the turn and into the bright daylight that awaited.