She woke up to the sound of hard footsteps on wood as the wood squealed under the weight. The sound shot through her mind, and she raised her head to check out what the noise was. She instantly regretted it, as the haze of her mind tried to make sense of what was going on. She opened her eyes and snapped them shut, the light burned. She immediately felt anger in her veins. Why did she feel so ill? Why did the light burn?

"Oh good, you're up," Galen said, bringing her a water flask. She shushed him angrily, and he lowered his voice. "Drink this water, it will help. I also raided Angelina's private stash for one of these," he held up a small purple vial. The mage opened an eye as she huddled herself in a corner. "Drink it." He popped the vial open, and handed it to her. With shaky hands, she touched the bottle and took it from him. Quickly tossing back the liquid like she did the night before, she savored the affect it had on her burning throat. It was so soothing, she let out a short moan of relief. Her anger dissipated into annoyance.

"Water next," the warrior said, handing her a flask. "Why did you get so drunk?"

"No questions! Too loud. Too much pain." She said, as she started to down the water.

"Hey, easy with that-" The warning came too late, as her eyes flew open, and she scrambled to her feet and ran out of the room. Galen almost wanted to chuckle, for he knew the feeling all too well. He followed her slowly, just to hear the tail end of her retching into the sea.

"I told you to sip it," he came up the stairs to stand beside her.

"Why don't you do something productive? Like on the other side of the ship." The mage demanded in annoyance.

Her face blanched as she pulled her hair back in a ponytail with her hand. Being out in the light was killing her, but she didn't want to empty her dinner all over the room they were staying in. He looked down at her with his golden eyes, a side of his lips turned up in a smirk. When he didn't answer her, she looked up through her caramel bangs to see his smug expression. She scoffed, but then she braced herself for another wave of nausea.

"Sweet Sunwell," she grimaced with the taste of bile.

"I suspect that was your first drink last night."

"I've had wine before, but not that brown stuff."

"Caraway burnwine." Galen sighed, remembering his experiences with the drink. "Did you at least sleep well?" He asked.

"I assume you mean was I visited by him last night? No. Thank the Light, he didn't show up." She wished she were on land so she could find a small mint plant to chew on.

"Well, I also was wondering if you slept well." He shrugged his massive shoulders. She wondered what caused the change in attitude, and why she wasn't being scolded for drinking too much the night before, and being treated more like a prisoner when she first met him.

"Just go away and let me be miserable in peace." She shot, her cranky mood was beginning to boil over into anger again. She didn't have the energy for that. Nor did she have the energy to try and understand why her captor was playing nice. The rocking of the boat should have upset her more, but it actually seemed to help a little.

"I was only trying to help," Galen protested. The mage brought a slender hand up to stop him, while the other was massaging her temple.

"Don't do me any favors."

"Why not? You begged me for one last night." He taunted, and he saw her eyes narrow at him.

"I did not."

"Oh, but you did. You begged me not to leave the room while you fell asleep."

"I have no memory of this," she glared at him and gritted her teeth.

"The request didn't just stop there, you wanted me to sit by and watch you all night. You even held my shoulder until you fell asleep." Galen felt the power and need to express his dominance over her, especially now. Why the urge was so important, he didn't know. However, he got the effect he wanted, as he saw the mage's cheeks begin to flush.

"I-I would never do such a thing," she turned her head away from him, trying to hide her embarrassment. Pieces of her memory started to come back to her, and she did remember the last thing she saw before sleep came to her. Her last memory was the image of her small hand gripping on to the night elf's shoulder while he sat with his back to the wall.

"You trusted me enough last night to watch over you while you slept," he gave her a smug half smile, while he lowered his head to hers. Her eyes darted to him, while she kept her head slightly turned away. His expression gnawed at her, giving rise to feelings of inferiority and humiliation. How could she even trust a night elf that had just kidnapped her from home less than a week ago?

"Just leave me alone," she curled her upper lip in disgust at him, and slipped away from his close proximity to retreat back down into the room. The night elf felt his control slipping, and he wasn't about to let that happen.

"Don't walk away from me," the warrior grabbed her arm and tried to pull her back.

Marcail pivoted on the ball of her foot, pulled her other arm back, and then brought it across the warrior's face in a loud slap. Galen was so stunned that she actually just used physical force on him that he released her. A fuming Marcail shot him a deathly look, and spun back around to go back to the room. The warrior gripped his jawbone and moved it back and forth. For a mage, she had some power hidden in that tiny form. He watched her as she descended the stairs, and then heard a loud slam of a door. A loud, outrageous feminine laugh came from behind him. He didn't even have to look over his shoulder to find out who it was, for he knew that laugh all to well.

"My, my," Captain Angelina's boots clicked on the wooden deck as she came to stand next to him, "you certainly have a way with women."

"She's impossible." The night elf said through gritted teeth. "she knows nothing of respect."

"I'll admit, the tension between you two," she gave a low whistle. "It's enough to get me aroused."

"Really, Angelina?" The night elf glowered at her over his shoulder. "Is that all you think about?"

"Sometimes," she smirked, "you would know."

"Why are you even here right now?"

"It's my ship, I can go wherever I want." She tossed her ebony hair.

"What do you want?" He sighed, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the beginning of his eyebrows.

"Nothing, really," she said, her brown eyes playful as she looked to the side. "I was just wondering where you were planning on your relationship going."

"What's it to you?"

"You've brought yourself a very fine looking girl. I'll even admit, the dress you gave her never looked so fine on me. But more importantly, she's got some personality behind those looks."

"Again, what's it to you?"

"She would be good to tame the beast inside you," she raised an eyebrow.

"Talking her up doesn't benefit you at all."

"Galen, we didn't work out." She said, her face going serious. "I need the sea, you need... something else entirely. I'm not going to try to work my way back into your life like that. Get over yourself." She rolled her eyes. "Have I ever lied to you before?"

"No."

"Why would I start now?" Angelina's lips pursed. "Look at her, she's real and true! You could keep her in Teldrassil and she would fall for you, easily. You just need to remember your charm, because barking orders at her is getting you nowhere."

"What in Shining Elune-" he narrowed his gaze more. "Are you taking sides?"

"I'm certainly not going to support you lying to yourself," she shrugged. "And your roaming days aren't desirable anymore. You said those words to me once, what's holding you back?"

"Why don't you go hoist the sails or shoot someone? Go do something pirate-like and let me get back to my life."

"You need to soften up if you want to woo that girl."

"What if I don't want to woo her?"

"Then you have become more blind than I would ever imagine." She frowned, and started to turn away. "I would get used to eating alone if I were you." She added before she stalked off.

This didn't make any sense to the night elf. Elune, the whole conversation made no sense to him. Angelina was a good friend, and remarkably good in bed. But she was also one of the most honest people he had ever known. But why was she trying to play matchmaker and talk up the mage to him? The mage was a captive, nothing else. Sure, the elf was attractive, and he deathly desired her to make love to, but he wasn't really interested in anything else. Was he? Looking back to Angelina, who had reported back to her post, he gazed back to the entrance into the lower decks. Pride would keep him from trying to talk to the mage, and if she wanted to make her hostage situation easier on herself, she would come and seek him out.

.

Marcail's head pounded, as she curled up on the bed and sighed out her pain. Breathing deeply, like how she did in meditation always seemed to help when she was feeling bad. She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing. She imagined herself sinking deeper into the bed, down through the wooden boat, deep into the sea to the very bottom in the sand. She imagined herself sleeping under the sea, safe from prying eyes and ransoms. And especially safe from the ravishing glances Galen gave her. She pictured the fish swimming around her, and the kelp swaying with the currents of the cool water. There, she would sleep for a thousand years, only emerging once the mess was gone.

She sighed, feeling much calmer, and her headache had dulled to a mild drumming instead of the intense throttling pain from before. If she could only calm her stomach, now. She wished she hadn't emptied her stomach from the medicine that Galen had given her. It did soothe her throat a little to have it. She reached for the water flask and was extremely careful to only sip on it. She did not want to repeat her mistake.

She sighed again, as she thought of her mother. Usually, when she was sick, her mother put her to bed immediately, and no amount of excuses could convince her otherwise. Even her studies at the Academy were put on hold. Her mother made it very clear that health came before success, but Una wasn't careless with her daughter's studies. She always managed to secure the books that she needed while she was in bed. Marcail smiled with the remembrance of her mother with a stack of books in both hands, and teacups and a teapot were balanced on top. There, her mother would help her study, while giving her endless amounts of hot tea and broth to make her feel better. To keep her fevers down, Una used frost magic to cool her hands and place them on her daughter's burning face.

She was a good mother, and Marcail fought back a sob of how much she longed for her to be there. To have quiet naps while her mother was embroidering or reading in the chair next to her bed. To have the soothing voice wake her while she mixed herbal concoctions into hot chocolate for her. Marcail imagined she was in her room in Silvermoon, and her mother was there, telling her in a soft voice of the day she was born and how happy her parents were to welcome a baby girl into the world. Marcail drifted off to sleep, reminding herself that she really was home, and this was all a dream.

.

When Marcail felt herself waking, she was wondering where the sound of lapping waves had gone. She could usually hear that in the background. She perked her elvish ears, but still heard nothing. She felt something was amiss when she realized that she wasn't being rocked by the boat anymore, either. Her eyes snapped open and she immediately sat up and screamed, her hands flying to her face to cover her eyes. No, this couldn't be happening. This wasn't happening to her right now!

She was back in Outland, but now she was somewhere in the middle of the baking heat of Hellfire Peninsula. What on earth had happened? Was she dreaming? She dropped her hands to pinch her arm. Yes, she definitely felt that. She started to stand, and then she looked around her. Behind her, there was a path leading up a tall hill, where a tall tower of blood elven architecture stood proudly, gleaming in the sun with it's alabaster stone walls and golden accents. She felt it clashed horribly with the cracked, red land and helboars lurking nearby. No blood elf should ever feel safe so close to the corruption of the Burning Legion.

She stepped forward, wondering if it were safe to approach the tower. She had a nagging sensation to follow the pathway up to the tower. She pinched herself again, just to be sure. She still felt the pinch. She started walking up the sandy path that lead to the tower. She was getting closer, when she realized that her dress wasn't falling from her shoulder. Looking down, she saw that she was in her red robes with a white sash that she usually wore in Outland, back when she used to fight there. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and she felt a tingling sensation all over her skin. What in the Light was going on?

Once she was at the tower, she placed her hand on the wall, feeling the coolness on her skin. Somehow, the tower was cool compared to the heat of the land. She entered in, and looked around. Only a tall, spiral staircase that wrapped around the tower was inside. She lifted her skirt lightly, as she began to climb the stairs. She put one hand on the wall, and her eyes locked on the top of the tower. She couldn't see anything but the roof. She climbed the staircase, and when she reached the top, she was winded. She emerged from the stairs to walk on the alabaster floor. The roof was covered by the frame of a golden gazebo, with large wings on opposite sides of the structure.

"Hello, cousin," the most chilling voice she had ever heard in her life came from behind her. She twirled around, coming face to face with Kael'Thas. She tried to slow her racing pulse, pounding in her ears and her knees began to shake. She tried to appear cooler than the last time they met, and prayed that she had enough magic to resist him.

"Hello Kael'Thas," she replied, her voice sounding much more aloof than she was.

"You're not screaming, yet. Do you no longer fear me?" A smug grin appeared on his face.

"How are you doing this?" She demanded, burying her fists in her robes and grasping the material in her grip.

"Come now," wicked amusement danced in his eyes, while he began to circle her. "If I gave all my tricks away, you would try to stop me. Would you not?"

"I will stop you," she glared. A bark of laughter escaped the Prince of the Blood Elves.

"As long as you are without your magic, you can't do a thing."

"Why?" She turned to face him, jutting her small chin at him. He stopped pacing around her.

"Because you allowed yourself to get captured."

"No, I mean, why are you coming after me? Why do you prefer to single me out?" A malicious grin played on his features.

"Ah, that is the question of the year. Why Marcail? Would she rather me find some other prey?"

"No!" She shouted, not wanting another party to be harmed in the web of deceit Kael'Thas was making.

"How do you know I haven't done so already?" He raised an eyebrow, but still had his smirk on his face. Marcail's eyes widened in fear, and a chuckle escaped him. "Alas, you can put your mind at ease. My plans currently only involve you."

"And just what are those plans? Do you intend to torture me until the end of my days with your visits? Living through me to kill and suck the mana from every living being in Azeroth? To become more powerful than any mage who ever lived?"

"That sounds like fun, I like the way you think," his eyes narrowed and his gaze changed into something that sent another wave of fear through her body.

"What do you want with me?" She gritted out through clenched teeth.

"What I was promised, from your family so long ago." His smile dropped, as he glared. Marcail stared at him in confusion. "Oh, how wonderful," the sinister smirk returned. "They never told you, did they?"

"That web of lies you're weaving will not trap me, traitor," she gave him a warning glare. She felt her knees beginning to shake harder. She brushed past him, going to the edge of the golden gazebo, clutching to a pillar for support.

"Why would I lie, when the truth is much more satisfying?" He followed her to where she was, her back to him and staring out into the land. "I will take what is rightfully mine, that I promise you, Marcail." She shuddered at the threat in his voice, as she leaned into the gold pillar for more support.

"Shall I begin the tale? It had been planned from the moment you were born. My father, King Anasterian Sunstrider, had been searching for a powerful match for me to wed. If you remember your history well, he had a lot on his mind back then." Marcail slowly nodded, remembering the Second War and how the high elves had sided with the Old Alliance, somewhat reluctantly, and how that came to burn the forests of Quel'Danas. "Imagine his surprise when a daughter born into one of the last pureblood mage families and distant cousins came to him."

"No," she shook her head.

"Yes. Your parents had my father take a look at you. The magic that flowed within you even as an infant could be felt just by standing near you, it was as if you were born from the Sunwell. Magic radiated from you. I was still a boy, but I remember the look that he gave you, and I'll never forget it."

"Stop," she turned around to face him. Anger and hurt flashed in her eyes.

"We were to wed when you became of age. Father told me of this before his final battle with Arthas." The muscles in his jaw tightened noticeably. "After that, I knew my responsibility as prince, and you were still but a child. So I followed my father's lead, caring for our people in trying to find a power source to replace the Sunwell. Arthas, that damned monster. My soul cried out in joy when I felt his power vanish."

"Your searching ultimately led to a never ending thirst for power. The Scryers were correct, your selfish ways were destroying our people." She snapped, and was immediately met with a hard slap across her face.

"I moved mountains for our people," he snarled, pointing his finger at her and lowering his face to hers. The glare of vengeance and rage were so shattering that Marcail felt the corruption nibbling at her soul, like a potent acid trying to get through a barrier. "I will kill anyone and anything that brings harm to our people." The female put a hand to her cheek and rubbed it, shocked, but still fearful of striking back.

"As for our connection, we were magically linked when our betrothal was set," he sighed, turning away from her. She watched his shoulders sink. Her soft heart immediately felt his pain. However, Kael'Thas did turn to the Burning Legion, but he was trying to do it for the right reasons. At least at first he was.

"Is that why you get into my head so easily?" She asked, carefully.

"It is one of the many advantages."

"If we were betrothed, why did I never meet you when you were... alive?"

"My father arranged the match," he shrugged, his back still to her. "And I had much to do after his death."

"That's not an excuse. If we were to be wed, then you would have come to see me." She searched for possible reasons for his abandonment. Then, suddenly, with her mage intellect, she found the reason. "You fell in love with someone else." Her eyes widened. When he didn't respond, she knew she had to be right.

"Then why can't you go and bother her and leave me alone?" She demanded.

"I can't reach her. Her magic has grown much stronger than I thought." He still didn't look at her.

"If you love her, than what can you possibly want from me? Is this for honor? I release you from this betrothal!" Finally he whipped around, coming face to face with her. She stepped back, almost tripping and falling back. Panic set as she realized how close she was to the ledge.

"I want you to retrieve every last strand of your magic from that kal'dorei!" He growled. Fear sunk deep in the pit in her stomach. She felt that it had settled there, never to leave her again. He grasped her arms, and she winced. "And never trust him. He is allied with the people who let Quel'Danas burn. As soon as you feel you can trust him is exactly when he will betray you." He gave her another smirk, and began to turn away.

Suddenly, a feeling of power coursed through her veins. It was like her magic had been restored, but it was different. It definitely was her own magic she felt, but amplified, and even more pure. It swelled around her, and the air temperature around her dropped rapidly. She felt the power at her fingertips, aching to be released. Kael'Thas must have felt the change, looking up at her with a mix of surprise and anger.

"Get. Out." She ordered, launching a potent frostbolt into his chest. He was taken off guard at first, kneeling slightly and clutching his wound.

"I'm only gonna say this once. Stay out of my mind!" She hollered, shooting another powerful frostbolt. This time, he was at his feet in an instant, absorbing her attack with an arcane barrier of his own. She channeled another frostbolt, and her faithful water elemental surged to her side, instantly assisting her. She activated deep freeze, giving her an even greater advance in ripping Kael'Thas from her mind. She kept wailing on him, until he broke free of her icy bonds, and shot her with his arcane missiles. The ice barrier she put up did little to stop the pain. The arcane energy shocked through her body. But she gritted her teeth, refusing to give up.

Suddenly, he was gone. She knew he hadn't left her mind, she could sense the corrupted magic. She was shocked by an arcane barrage to her back. Pain wrecked her body, but she turned to see he had blinked down to the ground. Casting a slow fall spell, she shot him with another frostbolt, and her elemental was already on the ground, continuing the attack. Once her feet touched the ground, she blasted him with a cone of cold. But he had disappeared.

"You might think you have won the battle, cousin, but I will be back. I will have my vengeance." A whisper echoed throughout the valley, followed by menacing laughter. It taunted her, and she suddenly saw shadows of him playing all about the valley. She clenched her teeth, eyes darting to every movement, trying to seek him out. She started the cast of a frostbolt, having it at the ready when she found him. She cried out in frustration, suddenly spreading her arms in an arc, and the powerful frostbolt exploded. She channeled a deep blizzard throughout the land, seeking out anything but his mirror images. For the real Kael'Thas. The red land was being covered in white, as she channeled her energy further, pushing her limits.

"Marcail," a soft voice beckoned her. The voice brought comfort into her heart. She slowed her attack, as her ears twitched at the sound.

"Marcail, wake up." It begged her. She looked over her shoulder, expecting to see more shadows and tricks.

"Please, open your eyes."