Sylvanas Windrunner P.O.V-several hours later

I returned to reality some time later, my eyes blurry as I awoke in an unknown room. I allowed myself a few moments of dazed comfort before snapping into being fully conscious. Sitting up quickly, I took in my surroundings to try and figure out just where I was, and found myself somewhat…neutral, to put it best. Black and dark shades of red and green were around me, as if someone had taken to making a depressed version of Winter Veil for the paint style. The structure was made entirely of metal and stone, no doubt forged from the minerals of the region I was in.

The bed sheets that currently covered me were surprisingly soft, which seemed to contrast with the room entirely. I decided to stand and try and see where I was, though I was amazed I was still alive at the moment. My body seems to have been healed, which was very curious as I was certain I was done for once I came across that demonic figure. Perhaps a patrol from Thrallmar had found me and brought me to some sort of newly-founded haven?

A sudden thought struck me and I looked down at myself under the sheets. I found that my upper body had been clothed with a sort of silken shirt, similar to the bed sheets rubbing against my feet. My legs were covered down to my knees by a pair of dark pants that clung to me tightly. No doubt due to my body's unchanged and beautiful physique, courtesy of my being undead.

Well, at the very least, I'd not been taken advantage of. Though I'm not certain how many would think to try their luck with an undead elf. Assuming I'd let them live if they approached me so foolishly.

I decided to try my luck walking and rose from the bed, cold stone meeting my feet as I stood tall. Good, I haven't lost any of my strength in my body. That meant the blood was still working, maybe soon i could return to my people and together we could- I felt a pang of hurt at the thought of my people and quickly dismissed that line of planning and returned to the matter at hand scouting out my surroundings. Spying a window nearby that showed the outside world, I moved to it and peeked out, expecting to see orcs, trolls, maybe even fellow undead.

I was instead greeted with something that rarely anyone else has likely seen and lived the tale to tell. My window showed me a glimpse to what seemed a world that had been ravaged by fire and scorched till all was black. Everywhere I looked, there was nothing but black rock and metal, Fel flames whose green aura lit the sky and ground and created twisted shadows behind them. I looked below me and saw patrols of Fel Orcs roaming the grounds of what seemed a massive fortress; each armed to the teeth and prepared for intruders. Curious that I've not had any come to kill me yet. I could see blood elves as well, along with serpentine creatures that slid along like a snake, but had the upper body of a humanoid.

I was definitely nowhere near any settlement of the Horde, or of the Alliance for that matter. Just where in Outland had I been brought to, and by whom?

"If you're thinking about escaping, I wouldn't try going out the window." An all too familiar voice told me. It belonged to the same figure who had come across me back at the Portal, and who I had expected to end my life.

I turned around and saw him resting against the corner of the room, watching me from the shadows. I couldn't make out much of his features, and he didn't move forward as I moved away from the window towards him. "Unless of course, you feel daring enough to escape from the Black Citadel by yourself. By all means, if you feel foolish enough to try, then try. It would be great entertainment for me to enjoy as I watch you fail horribly."

I chose to ignore the barb and keep my cool. "My apologies, whoever you are, but I've no intention of being 'entertainment' for anyone, mortal or demon. I rather enjoy existing and I've not a wish to end that anytime soon. Though I'm sure whoever it was that healed me and redressed me got quite a show. My gratitude to whomever it was."

The figure straightened and circled around me, keeping to the shadows as he chuckled darkly. "Your reputation precedes you, Sylvanas, as does your witty tongue. I will be certain to tell my servant she did a grand job. Demon I might be, but I'm not without my honor. I'd as soon let my male guards…"enjoy" you as soon as I'd accept the Light as my savior." He stopped and seemed to consider something for a moment before speaking again. "This room seems too dark for my tastes." He raised a hand and flicked it at nearby torches and candles, uttering a word under his breath as light filled the room, doing away with the shadows and revealing my host for me to see.

I found myself looking at a long pale violet face with full lips, framed by black hair that had been pulled back into a ponytail. Some of my Rangers may have called him handsome, if they could get beyond the fact he had demonic wings that were folded behind him, as well as being of a much more massive size than most other men I've ever seen. The light cast some shadows across him, however, leaving the rest of his features hidden from view. I listened as he took another step and heard a soft "clop" instead of what would be a normal footfall. 'Hooves?' I kept my thoughts to myself. My attention was more drawn to the long strip of cloth that blocked his eyes from view.

"You can't see me?" I asked, somewhat confused as to why he would block his vision and seem so at ease. I've never heard of a demon who would willingly limit himself in such a manner.

He laughed, "Oh I can see you, Elf. I just can't see your physical form. I can, however see the aura that surrounds you." He seemed to give me a once over as he continued. "You walk with the aura of death, the specter of royalty and power travelling behind you in your wake. You command and others obey, and you expect no less…" he trailed off as he paused in front of me. "…And something else that I've yet to really recognize, as foreign as the arrow that had injured you before."

I flinched at the description he gave to me. It was as if his eyes would read me like he knew me as an old friend. Could he really see so much in one glimpse? Then a thought struck me. "What do you mean 'something you've yet to recognize'?"

He began to pace again, and I kept him in front of me as he moved, not wanting to leave myself unguarded. "My healers who treated you found that there was a foreign substance within your body, something that in all their long history, and indeed it is a long one that they could not identify. In their attempts to heal you, they found that you were already recovering at a faster pace than what they themselves could produce. In fact, upon attempting to use their healing spells on you, they found their magics repelled and with almost violent force…" He paused again and took a step toward me, and I felt suddenly the weight of his gaze. "…where did you obtain this new power from? Who gave it to you?"

I shook myself of his gaze and gave him one of my patented Banshee Queen glares. "And who are you to request such answers of me? You hold no authority over me, or control me. If I wished to, I could leave this place right now, and no one could stop me. I'll not be ordered around as if I was some underling!" If my words had any effect to intimidate him, he didn't show it. Instead, he merely laughed at my response.

"Fool, if you even tried to leave this place, you would be dead before you left that door." He tilted his head at the exit he spoke of. "Besides, should you not grant the one who saved you some grace in the form of conversation? I merely wish to understand more about this…"he gestured at me, "…substance, which is within you. It's unlike anything I've come across, and if I can use it, I would like to know where to find it."

I thought over his words before answering. "It was given to me, as well as to my fellow Rangers. The man who gave it to us, I know not his name or his standing. Only that he gave it to us…and then betrayed us…" I scowled as my memory flashed back to my escape to the Dark Portal from that man. "I know not how it was made, nor where it was obtained from." I finished, looking back up at him.

He watched me for a few moments, and the thought occurred to me that he was likely reading my aura again. Neither of us spoke for a few moments before he replied. "I can tell you speak the truth to me…though not all the truth. Answer me this: does the name 'Stormrage' mean anything to you?"

"Not in the slightest. Perhaps in passing, but not to my knowledge does anyone exist with that name." I answered. Before he spoke again, I asked him, "Are you keeping me here for this…'substance' only? Or is there some other purpose for my being here?"

He grinned, exposing two perfect rows of wolf-like pointed teeth and I shuddered instinctively. "Does my presence here disturb you, Sylvanas Windrunner? And here I would think you would better appreciate the presence of someone who has dealt with the same blessings and curses of life that it has dealt you?" he quipped at me.

I felt my cold exterior falter slightly at the implications I heard in his voice when he mentioned the 'Curses of life'. "You know my name?"

He spoke arrogantly, supremely to me. "I know more than just your name, Sylvanas. I know your history, from beginning to present. Your service as the Ranger-General of Silvermoon, elected to serve and protect your people, and valiantly so. Your struggle to defend yourself during the Second War, when the first Horde came to try and burn your land away. Then…came Arthas." He growled out his name, and much to my surprise, I found I agreed with his tone. There was no love lost between that of Arthas and those he betrayed and harmed.

Suddenly he lost the arrogant curl to his upper lip and his voice softened slightly. "I also know how you broke free of him, away from the role as subservient banshee. When I attempted to slay his master the Lich King, it led to Arthas' power over you and other undead to weaken and falter. I know how you endeavored to create an army against him, how you tried to take aid from the Alliance and how they rejected you and your sisters, leading you to join with the Horde. I know how you find yourself unique unlike any other creature out there, and at the same time becoming more and more like those you swore to destroy. You're a unique undead sorceress and a talented one at that. Even your Elven allies in the Horde reject you for fear of your altered and dark nature. An outcast from your own people even though you were allied with them against a common enemy, trying to find your purpose in the world." He finished softly, and seemed to draw his wings closer to him as I heard him mutter quietly, "…just like me…"

I stared at him in shock and found myself to be stunned at his words. Why would this analysis of my past affect me so? And from a demon, no less? He likely seeks no more than to manipulate me to his own ends! 'But his words ring true nonetheless, do they not?' a voice in the back of my mind told me. The silence that followed his words was palpable, and I decided enough was enough.

"I don't know what you are or what it is you seek…but whatever it is, you won't find it from me. All I seek now is to return to my world and reclaim my people as mine own, and let the living clash with their own problems. This world holds no meaning to me, and I only seek the best for mine own."

He sighed and turned around to where I assumed the door was, "I hope for your sake that you decide to be more…compliant, when morning comes. Understand that I will keep you safe from harm, but only if you're willing to work with me. Move against me, and I won't hesitate to strike you down without a second thought."

"What does it matter to you?" I asked harshly. "So what if you found me with some mysterious substance, it's not as if I can rip it from my own body to give it to you…not that I would, given the circumstances."

"It matters to me, fallen elf." he growled, the previous softness in his voice now gone, "because your mere presence has had a more powerful effect than what you seem to understand. When you entered the Dark Portal, the magics contained within the arrow that injured you, as well as the magics you yourself contain within you, reacted and caused an explosion akin to the level of power that once opened the Portal. Only now, the Portal has been closed, and will remain so until its stability has been restored. You caused it, Sylvanas, you and this power that resides within yourself. And until I better understand this power, you will not be going anywhere without my say so."

I blinked and stared at him in astonishment. If what this demon said was true, then odds were likely that the Warlock who had pursued me before was now long gone. I felt a slight pang of frustration as I had desired to seek my own vengeance on him, only to have it be snatched away from me. He opened the door to the room and made to step out when I blurted out, "Wait!"

He snarled and turned to face me, his face contorted with anger. His patience with me was likely running out, a thought that brought me slight humor. "What is it now, Elf?" he growled out.

"What is your name? I would think if we're to work together, it would be reasonable to know each other's names." I asked while I still had the courage. For a long moment I didn't think he was going to answer, but when he did, the texture of his voice had lost the animosity, and returned to the dark and smooth tone I heard when I first woke.

"Illidan. Illidan Stormrage." He replied simply before walking out, leaving me alone to my thoughts. I wandered back to the bed and sat upon it, my mind whirling as all the information I had gleamed from this encounter was processed.

I was trapped within Outlands, in the hands of a powerful demon that held reign over this whole region I was in. Escape was highly unlikely, as I was without weapons or support from anyone beyond these walls. The being who saved me seeks something that I possess that I do not even fully understand, nor am I able to exactly give or be rid of. Worst of all, I told myself, I was indebted to this being for sparing my life and saving me. It was certainly not done out of kindness or for my safety, but nonetheless, it was done. I had destroyed the means of returning back to Azeroth safely, and could now only wait to see what the next day brought.

With these jumbled thoughts running through my head, I chose to lie back onto the bed and felt myself return back to the realm of slumber, since reality brought me nothing but trouble in the forms of warlocks and demons.

Illidan Stormrage, POV.

I found I had wandered to one of the many rocky mountain tops that littered the edges of Shadowmoon Valley, a small private place where I sometimes went to think and get away from my subordinates and servants. My eyes skimmed the skies, and found amongst the various energies the pale green mist I knew that brought acid rain with it. I paid it no heed; such a substance did little to harm my form, compared to how it would have in the past. My mind drifted back to the encounter with the lady Windrunner, and found my mind was somewhat itchy with curiosity towards her. She was an enigma the likes of which I'd scarcely come across before, not since I awoke the naga all those ages ago.

'The undead Ranger General of the Forsaken, the Dark Queen…lain at my feet and treated to my mercy. The possibilities are endless in making this work to my advantage, now the only question is what to do and how to do it…' I meditated on the idea, considering the many options at my disposal. I could possibly use my powers to corrupt her nature further and bind her to my will…but that would be too akin to what that bastard Arthas attempted, and she broke free. She was as skilled at magic as few others who can compare to my level, meaning she would no doubt know if I was to make an attempt to control her.

Perhaps I could offer her power like my Demon Hunters wield, only in exchange for her loyalty and sworn alliance with her Forsaken? I shook my head at that as well, scattering a few loose stones from where my head lay. She'd as soon accept such a proposal as soon as the Alliance and the Horde would agree to stop fighting and get along with the other.

No, she was a dark and clever woman, no doubt experienced in dealing with figures like myself and turning them to pawns to serve her. And Illidan Stormrage served no being, living, undead, or demon.

So then what was to be done with my new prisoner? I knew her motivations and goals to be simple in concept, but large in scope. Return to Azeroth, to her Forsaken, and resume her role as the Banshee Queen once again. If she was to not return, the power structure of the Forsaken may collapse, weakening the Horde as a result. I entertained the idea of a weakened Horde being taken advantage of by a persistent Alliance, having lost one of their mainstay forces in the Eastern Kingdoms. I smirked. Keeping her here is indeed for my benefit in such a scenario.

I felt the drops of acid and water on my flesh and heard the sound of hissing as the acid tried to melt through my hardened skin. My clothes began slowly but surely to crumble under the onslaught of burning liquid, but with a mere thought, they reformed and were reinforced against the harsh elements.

I paid only minor heed to this, more focused on the undead enigma currently stationed in the guest quarters. She would not be my first prisoner to take residence within my Citadel. The bane of my past and my tormenter, Maiev Shadowsong, now turned into my plaything. She lay within the bowels of my fortress, no doubt plotting her escape or means of vengeance against me for crimes centuries upon centuries old. I held no care for what became of Maiev; if she were to pass suddenly from the living to the realm of the dead, it would cause me no trouble, save the expense of having to dispose of her body.

The thought of her past with me renewed my hatred of her, and I took a grim joy in knowing she no longer posed a threat to my reign. I felt the storm pass, the steady rain faded away as streams of steam issued from my body, healing me from the small damage dealt to me as I had brooded. My mind was decided in what to do with the Undead Ranger-General; now to see how she would react to being a ward to the Lord of Outland. I spread my wings and flew back to the Citadel, feeling all the part of leader that I am and know myself to be.

Sylvanas Windrunner, POV

Dream sequence start

I leaned down to remove an arrow from the carcass of another dead abomination. This one had gotten particularly close, but was stopped by a shot through his undead skull. I looked about the battlefield and saw many of my forces were spread out, maintaining a perimeter against the onslaught of Scourge that had attacked our base. Interwoven in-between the soldiers were my selected Dark Rangers, picking off straggling undead who sought to try and rush our line.

An ear-splitting roar tore through the sounds of conflict, and I craned my head towards the direction of Icecrown Citadel, witness to the approach of the Queen of the Frost Wyrms that Arthas controlled: Sindragosa, in all her fierce and terrifying glory. Arthas must've tired of our efforts and sought to end our offense in one quick blow. I knew my limits when it comes to a conflict between military forces. A force like Sindragosa was one that would no doubt turn the tide in Arthas' favor if we remained to fight. He held air superiority, and we had nothing to combat against it.

It was time for a tactical retreat, and with all due haste possible.

I took a deep breath and my voice echoed across the frozen tundra to my fellow Forsaken. "Soldiers, we must fall back! Rangers cover our escape and follow behind us. We must escape before the Frost Queen is upon us!" I sheathed my bow upon my back and summoned my undead steed, leading the way as the echo of Sindragosa's roar beckoned us onwards. Most of our forces managed to flee and make way for a system of caves hidden beyond Corp'rethar: the Horror Gate, out of sight from the Lich King's forces.

Surveying the men and women with me, I found a mixture of relief at finding safety, yet anger at our forced retreat. I could not blame them: I never issue a retreat in a battle, not unless we face a challenge like Sindragosa presented to us. I sighed and let the matter rest for now. I dug a small notch in the area I stood by, weary beyond belief at this damned game I found myself playing with that damned Arthas, I had an arrow with his name on it and I couldn't even get close to him, the coward. With every step of progress I made to dethroning him, he would counteract me and repel my attempts like a horse batting a fly.

"Things not going as well as you hoped?" A voice called to me from the shadows. Immediately, I had my bow in hand and string drawn with an arrow, aimed at chest level at a grey-cloaked man who stood in the shadows of the stalagmites that shined in the campfire lights that glowed behind me. Whoever it was, my aiming at them gave them no cause for concern. "Perhaps I can aid you to victory…"

End Dream Sequence

I jerked in my sleep and shot up, the rush of the battlefield running through me as I searched the room for intruders. My mind caught up with my instincts and I remembered my location, the guest quarters of Illidan Stormrage's Temple. The rush left me and I calmed myself, careful to keep the face of being the Dark Queen always present. I sighed and ran a hand through my soft hair before realizing that the very action gave me no sore reply or protest of movement. I looked down to my body and felt along my front and stomach, and found no bruises existent, no sores left to discolor my pale skin. The place where the arrow had pierced my skin was now only a small dark mark, the only remaining trace of what had happened.

'Even as an evil, manipulative bastard, that Warlock knew his alchemy. I feel almost like my days back in Quel'Thalas.' I mused before sensing a presence enter the room.

"Not a morning person I take it." I heard the deep voice of my host, Illidan, and looked up to see him standing near the foot of the bed. He still sported that arrogant grin of his, as if I was his new play-toy. To myself, I had to admit in a way I was, though the thought brought a foul taste to my mouth. While I had mused to myself, he had continued talking.

"This new healing ability of yours is proving to be most helpful, Sylvanas. Your aura is almost recovered wholly, no doubt meaning your body is almost back to 100%. It's an impressive feat, for certain. This new substance within you must certainly be the cause. Have you had any luck in maybe remembering anymore about it?" He mused, wandering about the room as he kept his covered eyes on me.

"What do you want?" I demanded of him. I had no time to play games with him. My people needed me, and I needed to find a way back home to Azeroth. My place was not here as a prisoner within a demon's citadel.

He laughed openly at me, and shook his head. "I suppose I can humor you and answer that question. Now what would the Lord of Outland want?" he paused in his pacing and put a hand to his chin as if in thought. Black nails tapped against his lips before he spoke again. "Let's see…an unstoppable army of soldiers at my disposal would be a good start. Full control over all of Outland as well. Hmm…have the entire Night Elf society renounce their charges against me and accept me into their world again. Oh, and of course, to have Tyrande declare me to be her mate. Yes, that would do it, I believe."

I stared at him, not sure whether to be shocked, appalled, or just annoyed at his words. If there was ever anyone else I found to be arrogant, this man was the one who took the crown for it! 'And he mentioned someone named Tyrande…could he mean the Night Elf leader in Darnassus?' I thought to myself.

"But I'll settle for you answering my questions, without need of any physical duress. Oh, and that you would dress yourself more comfortable than you are now." He wandered back over to me, and conjured up a new set of clothes before me. They looked to be a simple pair of leather pants, boots, and a blouse. While it was impressive he conjured it from nothingness, I scoffed at the display.

"And what questions would you have me answer you, Illidan? And for that matter, might I ask why you're giving me all these clothes and helping me? If you think to try and charm me, know that you're failing horribly." I replied, eyeing him for any suspicious moves. "You cannot even see my physical form, so why give me such things? Do you provide all your prisoners with such comfortable arrangements?"

He smirked at me and said, "Your wit is sharp as ever, I see. It's true, I can't see you. However, while I may not be able to, my guards can. I would think it only respectable that a host provide his guest with a way to be decent around his home, unless she desires all the males to simply take advantage of her. And as for your questions, they are not any that would provoke too much precious information out of you. Only what I need to know and nothing more."

"And under what obligation am I expected to answer to you? I could choose to remain here and leave you to your own ends." I looked away and to the outside world, which had remained mostly the same if only darker now. It was evening, with the stars being much more prominent in the night sky than when I had first glimpsed them.

He sighed and rubbed at his horns. "Because, Lady Sylvanas, have you forgotten about how I chose to spare you from death's grasp? How I brought you here, kept you safe, gave you clean clothes, and protected you from the harsh world that lies beyond these gates? You are in debt to me if not for anything else, then for the simple fact that I spared your life."

I turned to look back at him as he made his point to me. As much as I hated it, he was right. Early on in life, I was taught customs and traditions that still run through the world today, and life debts were a part of my lessons. In saving me from death, Illidan had invoked that right to request I answer to him and remain here, until the debt was fulfilled by his word or by me saving him. Since the latter was far more unlikely than the former, I was truly expected to answer to him.

I fumed, angry at that I was not only to do as he said, but also that I was wrong and he was right. To be corrected by a demon of all things…then again, he makes Varithmaras look like a pushover. I gave in and got up, changing swiftly into the new clothes he had given me. I did motion at him with my hands to turn away, and he did so. He may be blind to me, but I'll not allow anyone to see me change, blind or not.

I finished the final button and looked myself over. Tight pants that clung to me, along with boots made of a mix of leather and cloth for comfort and durability. The blouse was somewhat snug for my figure, something I patted myself on the back for, but stuck with me nonetheless. All in all, it was suitable, though nothing compared to the hunting and battle gear I had grown to wear back on Azeroth.

I turned to face him and saw he had already turned back to face me. He nodded approvingly, and walked towards the door. I started after him, keeping in step behind him. "You've not even told me where we are going, Illidan. Care to clue me in?" I asked as I followed him out.

"Why, it's quite simply, Sylvanas. I believe it's time you and I had a chat and what better way to have that chat, then over some dinner?" He replied, the smirk present on his voice.