Disclaimer. I can has Blizzard plzkthx? Or how about just World of Warcraft? No? Okays...
I type up every chapter in a different font. Keeps things interesting.
Redemption: Chapter 4
*****
-One month later-
Ilidan's wings fell off one rather morbid morning, and he had to blink to the ground, starting his search for a new home. The runic tattoos faded a few days later, leaving him looking like a rather tall night elf. With a blindfold. And no night elves were mages anymore.
Just like none had ever been a shaman.
His chest constricted as Aila flitted through his mind. Her scent had long dissipated from his cloak, but he still pulled it around his shoulders a bit tighter.
So far, he'd managed to make a cave in Nagrand into a temporary home, but he suspected that it would eventually become permanent. He really had nowhere else to go.
In a small stroke of luck, he happened across Hemet Nesingwary, and the crazy dwarf was more than happy to outfit the strange night elf with a spare bed roll, explaining with an amused smile that many young adventurers tried to buy their way into his favor with presents such as that. So if the night elf needed anything else, he had only to ask.
Thus began a happy business relationship, with Illidan selling Nesingwary's unwanted supplies and using the profit to buy ammunition and spare parts for the expedition, keeping a small cut for himself, squirreling it away to save for some quality mage robes.
And in all his years playing politics with the highborne, he never felt as full and rewarded as he did selling tent frames and blankets for a dwarf who didn't even know his name.
This left him to wonder -- if he had been born a normal night elf, where would he be now? Happily settled with his lifemate? Would he have had children? Maybe he would be a merchant.
Maybe the night elves would still live on Mount Hyjal.
That depressing thought was interrupted by a young male tauren pawing at the bed rolls.
"How much are these?" To Illidan's shock, the tauren -- who was clearly not a druid -- spoke Darnassian rather well.
He quoted the price and the tauren bought two of them, throwing in an extra gold, telling the night elf to take some time off for himself. Then he bowed and left, smiling all the way down the path.
Illidan smiled, too, grateful to see another being enjoying life so much.
*****
To Aila's immense relief, Brody refused to judge her, even though she called herself a fool for coming to Outland before she was ready. Instead, he shared in her pain, cradling her in his arms as she cried.
But to her immense surprise, he scolded her for leaving Illidan without a word like that. His actions clearly didn't square with those of the demonic persuasion, and shouldn't she tell A'dal about this? So it was with nervous anticipation that she approached the naaru once more, opening her mind and showing him Illidan's actions. And with the mental connection bathing her in soothing, comforting light, she saw for the first time how unreasonable she had been.
Do not fear, child. Not even some of the wisest followers of the LIght would have held up as well as you did.
She sighed and nodded, thanking A'dal for his acceptance. He gave her his blessing, encouraging her to travel through Outland, as that had been her original intent when she stepped through the portal.
Brody loved the idea. He always enjoyed exploring, and within the hour he had given his sleeping bag to a grateful refugee and his tent to a large family that needed the space. He explained to Aila that part of the thrill of travel was helping the local merchants -- and if it was something the two of them would use, might as well wait to carry it until it was needed.
So it was off to Garadar in Nagrand, a home away from home for both of them. Aila visited Halaa on one of its peaceful days, enchanted by its secluded nature. They both swam to the Throne of the Elements, eager to assist the Furies in any possible way. Gordawg, the Fury of Earth, solemnly gave them their tasks, sending them out through Nagrand to ease the suffering of the earth elementals.
The smile never left Brody's face. The tauren conveniently happened upon a night elf selling bed rolls for a very reasonable price, and returned to their camp with one for each of them.
But they slept fitfully, the tormented cries of Nagrand's spirits trailing through their minds in ways no other class could experience or understand.
*****
Illidan woke early in the morning, securing his bag of coins about his waist and beginning the trek to Telaar. Today he would buy mage robes, and in his mind he prepared some kind of story to ease the suspicions of the tailors.
And he happily found a gnome mage advertising her wares. He explained to her that he had finally heeded the call of the nether and been promptly disowned by his family and friends, and these coins were all he had to his name, and he'd be much obliged if she would craft for him a set of mage robes. He realized, with a small smile, that his story seemed more truth than lie.
"Oh, it's no trouble at all," she cooed -- or tried to, it was more of a squeak. She made for him one of the finest robes he'd ever worn, and with the spare netherweave cloth made him gloves as well. Free of charge for those, she insisted, as he added a few coins to their agreed price. He bowed and thanked her, and she smiled, happy to help a free-spirited mage on his journey.
He picked up the case of bullets from the ammunition vendor, handing him his due coins, and began the trip to Nesingwary's safari outpost.
A burst of bright red hair flitted through his peripheral vision and he dropped to his knees, catching her scent on the wind.
Aila.
The realization hit him like a blow to the head -- she was in Nagrand. She was close.
*****
Deft fingers picked over the rubble of the slain earth spirit, picking up a Mote of Earth, but finding nothing that would interest Gordawg.
Brody smiled at the young elf as she stood, but it faded as he saw the distant look in her eyes. She was probably thinking of home -- and she should return home, she wasn't ready for this world at all, she needed to finish her training.
He didn't mind carrying her through all their battles and errands. She was a sister to him. But she had bitten off way more than she could chew, and he worried about her.
She said a quick prayer to the spirits for the one they had just killed. And as Brody put his arm around her shoulders, she had to consciously steel herself against tensing.
Aila knew he could tell. He pulled her closer and wrapped her in his arms, holding her there for several minutes until he spoke.
"Aila, is there something that happened to you that you never told me?"
She hadn't told him everything the blood elves had done, only that they had kidnapped her and drained her before they tossed her to the fel orcs. And her chest burned -- she hated keeping secrets but she couldn't bring herself to speak of it, it hurt too much. And he could sense her pain, she was sure of it, but she just couldn't say it out loud.
The spirits curled around her, comforting her, encouraging her to talk, to share her pain, to release her burdens, but she kept her mouth tightly shut.
Brody felt it, too, and as he stroked her hair a sob escaped her lips, strangled and pained. Then the tears flowed.
*****
Illidan really couldn't deny it -- nature was calling out to him, and the call was much stronger than he remembered. He also couldn't deny that his mage powers grew weaker with every passing day, threatening to leave him helpless in this harsh land. It didn't help that his vision seemed to be failing him as well.
Logically he should return to Azeroth and train in something new. His sense of self-preservation tore him in two directions: stay here, lose powers, get killed, or go home, piss off the night elves by breaking the agreement he made when he was banished, get killed.
Not many options for him.
His thoughts slipped to a red-haired elf, and he rolled over on his bed, willing his mind to rest on something, anything else.
So it focused on Tyrande.
Illidan threw a rock at the wall of the cave. Traitorous mind!
But to his vast surprise, the thought of her no longer roused the longing ache in his heart. No, now he recalled her with a fond smile and a certain amount of brotherly affection.
Was he going crazy?
No, he had been crazy for about the last ten thousand years. Now he was sane -- and he realized just how foolish he had been.
His thoughts flitted to Malfurion. He plucked at their link, the special connection they shared, wondering if he would get a reply. But after a long hour waiting, the link still remained silent.
He had heard that his twin was lost in the Emerald Dream, too far gone to wake on his own. His heart twisted, a pang of sympathy for Tyrande. What must it be like to know your beloved teetered on the brink of being lost forever?
Rather like finding Aila nearly dead in the small wooden house?
Illidan roared and shattered a rock against the cave. Why couldn't he get the damned girl out of his mind?
He needed to leave this place. Sure, returning to Azeroth would spell almost certain death for him, but at least he could apologize to Tyrande and have her pass that on to his brother if he ever woke.
*****
Aila pranced around in her fox form, crawling all over Brody as he slept, rousing him from his dream.
"Aila, stop!" he laughed as she licked his face.
Soon, a fluffy wolf pinned her to the ground. She yelped and scampered out of the tent, leading a playful chase over the wide grasslands. They rolled in the dusty roads, climbed trees, stalked grasshoppers. For the first time since leaving Azeroth, Aila felt pure joy.
The young tauren, unable to keep up with the foxy bundle of energy, shifted out of his ghost wolf form and leaned against a rock, laughing. The translucent fox did the same, resting on her friend's arm. They sat like that for several hours, reminiscing about life back on Azeroth. Brody shyly admitted to having rather strong feelings for one of the tauren druids he'd met in Zangarmarsh. Aila smiled.
"How about you, Aila? Any young elves catch your eye?"
Well, her sole experience with blood elves resulted in her abuse, and the only night elf she spent any time with was Illidan, and he didn't count since he was ancient and she wasn't even sure if he was still considered a demon.
"No, not really."
She sighed, resting her chin on her knees.
The prickling sensation on the back of her neck pulled her out of her introspection. Brody felt it, too, tilting his head and listening for the spirits. Aila tried, but heard only soft, scared whispers.
"Something's wrong," Brody cried, hardly able to keep his voice from faltering.
The roar behind them confirmed it.
Durn -- the demon stood at least as tall as the tallest building Aila had ever seen -- closed in on them, snarling hungrily.
"Run!" she screamed.
