Chapter 2: Unravelling Evil

Disclaimer: The characters and settings created by Blizzard Entertainment Inc in this story are owned by their creators. I do not claim them as mine in any way, shape or form. I am not receiving monetary profit from this story and no copyright infringement is intended.

Notes: I split up chapter one. This section starts the same, but ends differently. Enjoy!

Kael'thas woke up in his office, his head on the desk. Someone shook him awake. Kael'thas came up too fast and nearly hurt the side of his face when he did so, as it was sticking to the wood grain.

A blindfold and two giant black horns faced him.

"Oh gods—"

"It's only me, Illidan. Where is Jandred?"

"His name is, or was, Jarlothin Sa'ull Mageblade, I believe. First son of Lord Byron Mageblade, a step-brother to my wife. Well, all of them are Whiteblades now, since Outland. And part of the royal family."

Kael'thas sat there for a moment, waking up and also working it over again in his memory. The full family history was recorded in a document, somewhere in his office. How many times had it been revised at royal christenings, with a new name, a new of Sunstrider scribed in, but the primary names hovering above Saturna's Whiteblade family line always hung there in old, black ink. Always the same. But only one of those names belonged to a man he had not met. Kael'thas assumed he never would.

"And he'll be called Jandred Whiteblade again, once I get through with him. His time slaving away under you of all people, is over." He stared up at Illidan, turned and leaned on that side of his desk, "'Lord Illidan,' this and 'Lord Illidan,' that. And you allowed him to tattoo the stupidest thing on his arm. Just reckless! You must have really enjoyed yourself. Another one of your sick little games. And of course, all demon hunters are tortured first, in order to become skilled at their killing, on your behalf—"

"His training."

"I WAS THERE!" Kael'thas exhaled, got control over his voice. "I hand-picked the Sunfury I sent over to you, to twist into your sick creations. Or had you forgotten? I don't see how you could." Kael'thas began to shove Illidan, so he could stand up.

"Jandred is one of my best. He is stronger than Aqui'nalya."

"Jandred is my family and his bond with you has, as of tonight, been broken. I did it myself while we were on the phoenix. That old demon magic, decades old. I can snap that like a twig. Why did you think I'd let you keep a member of the Thalassian royal family as some gamepiece?"

"I came to get him back." When Illidan was truly unsettled, he was curt. Direct. Kael'thas noted that he wasn't getting any of his fanciful lies.

"Through my summoning spell? I thought you might try that, so I hid Jandred to keep you away." Kael'thas and Illidan now faced off, glared at one another, "…and this time, you cannot threaten to destroy my kingdom if you don't get your way, Illidan. I became your warlock long ago. I own you."

Illidan paced around the room.

Kael'thas felt he made his point. He was still tired, so sank back down in his large, leather chair. He half-leaned over the oak desk, folded his fingers together. "So, in other news… Long time, no see. But before we do all that—I really was in Felwood tonight, right?"

"Yes. I only used the dream magic to pull you hither and thither. You sleep-walked at some point because I wasn't done talking to you. And I wasn't going to do it in the bedroom."

Kael'thas let his change of subject be a dart Illidan's way, "What happened to your wife? I got the letter saying you were married. Another crazy Night Elf priestess. So, you know… not that I've heard you're still poking around Tyrande regardless. How's that going?"

Illidan turned around slowly, "Going? It went. And it went badly. The same way I hear your own marriage is going. Nothing but arguments. And those hopeless, sweaty phoenix pajamas don't entice a thing, do they?"

Kael'thas moved them onto another subject, "Illidan, how is it that your dream magic can actually haul people around to different places these days? Even your own warlock master?"

Illidan crossed his large, violet-colored arms. "You got away from me once, when I thought I had enslaved you, Kael'thas. Maybe I'm trying to find a way to return the favor."

"Years of begging me to enslave you in Outland, make you feel safe—"

"You refused to do it."

"I finally did it, though. Only to overpower you and kill you."

"That was fun to come to terms with, my own best friend." He paced the other way, looking at famous portraits of who-knows on the ornate walls of Kael'thas' office. They weren't family photos. "Kael'thas Sunstrider was one of my closest allies, I had thought. Even after the Black Temple, even after you sold me out to the Legion in Tempest Keep. I never learned, did I? So desperate to have family, or whatever felt like it, back by my side. I had to cut your head off and sew it back on with Naga magic to make you halfway act like my brother. What we did back then almost sounds comical, so many years later."

Kael'thas squinted, felt the stitches around his neck, "Now you want to be free."

"Naturally." Illidan turned around again, fast, "If anyone catches us here together, there will be hell to pay. Darnassus and Silvermoon could not stand to think we were still in league with one another. Again!"

Kael'thas picked up a gold pen, tapped it idly on his desk. Over the years, he'd dealt with plenty of rebellious demon sorts trying to ignore his warlock magic and go wherever they wanted instead. But he wasn't done with Illidan yet.

"I'll send you back, Illidan, when I feel like it. What are you really up to in Felwood? In Azeroth? Do you know, the entire planet has been searching for you, for years. Two planets. I was definitely not looking. I never wanted to find you again. I ruled my kingdom, I raised my kids, I worked things out with my wife... But then, you snap your fingers and suddenly I'm on planet Illidan, all-Illidan, all the time, with our soul link back and working again and me doing your bidding again—what the hell was that?!"

"I already explained to you. Those satyrs, the demons—they are remnants of Vashj's forces. I am trying to stop Azshara—"

"An easy thing to lie about when it's a story you've already told, countless times. It can't be any more true, now. This is just like the Skull of Gul'dan! You're trying to get more power, you're hooked on something out there, I know it. Same Illidan. Same lame, evil plan. And this time, it's not about saving the world. Those demons we fought over in Felwood were bad, but nothing the Horde or the Alliance, even working separately, couldn't handle. I'm sure that's why Malfurion and Tyrande refused send you any backup."

"I am trying to right the wrongs of the past."

"No one can do that, Illidan!" Kael'thas' voice echoed again in that now pale blue, dawnlit office. He reverted, again, to sharp whispers, "You just can't do that. I can't do it, either. No one can. Getting forgiveness, that's a fool's game. Stop lying to me and just tell me."

"Are we talking about your wife? What I did to her? Is that why I'm being trapped in here, in this cage?" He gestured angrily around the room with his big, dark claws.

Kael'thas got up from his desk. "Don't. Don't you even do that. How dare you complain that this is your fate. You've earned it."

Silence, between them. Illidan tried to look away, but there was nowhere else for him to look, and no one else that he could look at instead. Kael'thas glared, waited for Illidan to feel that.

Illidan spoke with strange authority, "If after all these years, I am back on Azeroth and you still want to kill me, then you had better do it now."

"Try my luck and do it, you mean."

"You know what I mean, Kael'thas. I have been given a chance, by my brother and Tyrande—"

"Funny that you never refer to her as your sister-in-law."

"…to atone for my sins, and have a place in this world. That is what I am doing in Felwood. Naturally, they expect me to take it on as a challenge."

"Some kind of community service? And I suppose they're not sparing you any soldiers after you reaped dozens of lives down at Moon Guard Stronghold. All in the name of fighting back the Legion."

"I can't go through what we did, what felt like a lifetime ago. I think," He inhaled, filled his large chest with new breath, "You and I should have our fate-making fight, right now. Settle it. Because this dance with you has always been agony. I know that at the Black Temple I used you, badly—"

"You sure did."

"But you also used me! And it horrifies me how I was, the state I was in. Indulging in fel magic and ruination even while I was trying to be the greatest weapon in that realm, I and my demon hunters. And it all collapsed on me." He stepped away from Kael'thas on his cloven hooves, "And what I did to her... It can never be forgiven. Nor is there any apology or atonement I can make. I deserve so much less than what I have now with any…"

Woman. He could not say it. Nor could Kael'thas finish the sentence for him.

"I have been an evil man, Kael'thas. I have only one more chance. And I cannot waste that chance, constantly looking over my shoulder for you to attack, exact your vengeance—even if it is justified retribution—while I am hard at work in Felwood. I simply can't." He looked tired now. "So then. Let us fight. Let us finish this. Either that, or…" Begging forgiveness was futile, he'd already said so himself, "Then at least let me go, and let me live."

Kael'thas considered it. The logic in having their deadly confrontation outright. Perhaps after all these years, even with their soul link, his warlock dominion over Illidan in questionable condition, he might just succeed. In time, Illidan would be reborn in the Twisting Nether, as were all creatures anchored in rich demon magic. And so then, he would kill him again, and again, wouldn't he? A never-ending duel. Maybe if he was an orc, he'd find that appealing, pass it down to his children to follow up when he died, and his children's children.

But, even Orcs were smarter than that. These days.

"Kael'thas, please consider life now. My life. A life where I try and fix what I can, use my time in this realm to protect the world, save lives. Stop villains from ever doing what I did."

Kael'thas hated considering his next option, this other thing he knew that he could do. "No, shut up. Just… Sit."

There wasn't really a chair big enough. They both sat on the floor. Kael'thas found it interesting, that Illidan felt compelled to obey some of Kael'thas' old warlock commands, but could resist other impulses. He'd have to fully investigate that before too long.

After gazing at the rich pattern on the carpet for a time, trying to distract himself from the conversation he had to have with his longtime enemy, Kael'thas found the words.

"In a thousand lifetimes, if that is what you have, you deserve to die for what you did. That is my perspective. Maybe, somewhere in the Shadowlands I suppose, or a realm where people have that long to dwell on things and think it all over, a sort of timeout from life... A place where they can't hurt anyone or do any more harm, and everyone is in agreement that atonement is the thing, the only way to shed those violent, prideful sins… Perhaps then, there would be enough time to repent, for someone like you.

Kael'thas paused, thinking, "But that is scarcely within my imagining. Like a law of spiritual, otherworldly physics or magic that I can barely perceive. Someone will have to invent that, in order for me to see it. And then, I would have to trust in that sort of process. That my family, and all my loved ones would be forever healed from your wrongs, safe from you."

Kael'thas furrowed his brow, he wasn't explaining himself very well. Illidan waited, unusually patient-looking, for a horned monster-man covered in blazing fel runes.

Kael'thas covered his mouth, then played with rings on two fingers that he even wore to bed, "The thing is, I have killed you already. A thousand times. In a thousand lifetimes, or nearly." He looked at Illidan, to emphasize that he meant it. This was no metaphor.

"May I ask how? How in the hell did you actually manage to do such a thing-"

"Vashj."

Kael'thas watched Illidan's jaw tighten.

"Mistress of some of the darkest magics, ever known. Belonging to the Old Gods and worse. And she wielded the fel pretty adroitly for someone only just exposed to it while she served under you in Outland, I thought. One of the last, true, living sorceresses. Handmaiden to Azshara herself.

"Back when I was horrified at the revelation, that Belorim was as you'd told me many times... That he was not my son. When I first learned that it was no mind game of yours, no manipulation, but the actual truth." Kael'thas slowed down. It didn't look as if he would go on. But then, he managed to, "I decided to make a betrayal of my own, an extremely painful one that I will always regret. And that is how you got him back—did you never wonder that?" Kael'thas drew a knee up, leaned his elbow on it. "Even you should have realized having a son that I once thought was mine should never be so easy."

"Vashj brought him to Tyrande and me…"

"And you never thought to yourself, 'What the fuck kind of timeline is this, that I'm getting everything I've ever wanted?' How Vashj meddled with the timelines, and neither of us fought it. We are such evil men, aren't we, Illidan? And now we're both alive, here, nearly forgiven for our crimes in Outland. Both of us so mean and entitled, we didn't do a thing about it until that new, perfect-for-us world actually started to fall apart. Only then, did you and I go after Vashj.

"And then she was slain, and everyone lived happily ever after. But we didn't really think back on how it was accomplished in the first place. Well, you didn't question it much. You were so focused on maybe getting Tyrande back, permanently this time. And I didn't have to. I didn't want or need to think of how Vashj had pulled it off. I knew very well how it was done."

Illidan sank back, beginning to look disgusted on his end.

"The boy was the key. The one person who shouldn't exist in all the futures Vashj and I discussed. She and I, we sat down at a table, as decent as anything. And we talked over how to re-make events such that…" he swallowed, "I could have my Saturna back, unscarred. And you out of my life—but she said you had to exist, too many events revolved around you. Also, you can be sure I asked for Quel'thalas to be restored back to before Arthas came, but. The Naga bitch had her own ideas. Her own reasons."

Illidan blinked, shook his head and horns, "The old gods, her true masters, like for the world to be crippled and in disarray."

"I also sensed that much power, to just re-make whatever she wanted, that it was beyond her. If you're putting back Quel'thalas, then why not snap your fingers and put back Azshara's empire as it was, or have the Legion win and the stop the world from being sundered? Not possible.

"But the boy was the key. Your son, Belorim. In some timelines, he didn't exist, she said."

Illidan uncrossed his dark arms, "Is that true of most children? I suppose so."

"Anything around him was flexible. Events, possibilities. All she had to do was take him down to Nazjatar while the time-altering spell was cast. That is what she assured me."

"And you were a fool to trust her, Kael'thas."

Kael'thas put his knee down. He leaned forward. "It worked! She did it maybe a thousand times, Illidan, but then it worked. My hatred for an innocent child that I was grieving for, that was supposed to be mine, not the son of my enemy, it had wrought something else. Something new. Better. I think I was lucky. It's rare that hatred reaps a reward." He sat there, frozen, sounding so cruel and looking the madman. "But I found mine. Rare, one in a thousand lifetimes. I was able to dump the boy off with you after that, and go back to my life. I found this one re-write of history to be more than acceptable."

Illidan fidgeted, not liking this at all.

"…Because in this altered timeline, you never assaulted my Saturna. You never…" he could barely make the words, "touched her in that way. You lost the nerve, or you couldn't—"

Illidan covered his face, then turned angry eyes on Kael'thas.

Kael'thas sneered back, "I don't care what happened, but you never went so far. You never forced her. You terrified her, certainly. But then you left her alone. To cry all night and hate me for what almost happened, just barely!"

Kael'thas uncurled himself, sat up confidently. "So you see? I had enjoyed tormenting you since Vashj re-made the world. I enjoyed it so very much. A memory deterioration spell, of a sort, helped Saturna to forget the rest of that one night. But what would help you? And why should I?"

"You left me the same?"

Kael'thas nodded, "You're still vile. I hate you that much. I'd gladly leave you to live with a sin you never committed. At least not all the way. I am fine with that."

Illidan showed fangs, "How are you and I still the same, unaltered?"

"I am, you're not. I had to shield myself to ensure that Vashj didn't screw me over. Trust me, I can manage the magic for a… paracausal storm passing through, if I know one is going to happen. Sure, then. Why not? But I didn't see why you should share my storm shelter."

"But in order for me to believe something about myself that never occurred? You gave me a memory of… of assaulting your wife?"

"She was safe, what did I care about you? You deserved it and you needed to stay away from my family."

Illidan's jaw went slack. "I don't understand the depths of your cruelty in this… How was Vashj herself left unaltered? How was Belorim?"

"I already told you that they went down beneath Nazjatar. We saw the chamber she used to alter time magic, or is your memory affected by what we did to you? Is it? Haha! Or are you just aging, at long last!"

Illidan grasped the sides of his horned head.

"I guess you have your brother to blame for aging, if that's the problem. He's the one who sacrificed Nordrassil and left the Night Elves exposed to aging, disease and all that!"

"Enough!" Illidan got to his feet. "Who is the greater villain here? I don't understand any of this!"

"Oh, Illidan. This has been my own personal game for a long time now—"

"You have created an alternate timeline of some sort? Only Bronze dragons or… I don't know who's supposed to do it, but the people on the inside, the people living on the planet itself, the players in the play, they can't DO that!"

"Well, I found a way." Kael'thas stood with Illidan, grinned. Then, he shrugged, "I guess if you want forgiveness for something you never did, at least not in this life, I suppose that's not even mine to give."

"I didn't… violate Saturna like that?"

"She still killed you, about a day later, for trying."

"But I didn't?"

"Somehow, in this timeline, you behaved like a better man than you were. Though I know for a fact, another lifetime of experience, that you are sure as hell capable of it!"

"I chose not to. I overcame the… the cruel impulse. To utterly crush her." Illidan leaned on the thing nearest him, Kael'thas' desk. And he turned his back.

Kael'thas walked around and faced him. He didn't care about the grief, the shame plain on Illidan's face.

"You don't deserve to feel relief." Kael'thas told him, "The man who did destroy the woman I loved, he was destroyed in turn, about a thousand times. Each and every time we had that result, for you, for the three of us in Outland, Vashj obliterated you and that cruel world you created. I asked her to! I hear your deaths were creative and exceptional, if she could manage it." Illidan cowered anew, trembling claws covered his face, "One ending for you had your body laid out on the Black Temple roof, the place raided and some adventurers in something like clown suits looting your lifeless corpse—"

"Be quiet, Kael'thas!"

"And Warden Maiev helped finish you off, too. She sure enjoyed seeing that. She even imprisoned your demon hunters."

"She never could! I sent them away, after the sargerite keystone!"

"They came back just in time to enjoy seeing your demise, that was Vashj's doing as well. And Maiev was somehow clever enough to turn the fel magic, in their blood, against them, imprison them all in these giant fel crystals—"

"Stop torturing me!"

Kael'thas had a careful seat at the edge of his desk instead, faced Illidan.

"I guess that you forgot. I am a warlock. I enjoy torturing demons. And people. Whatever you are these days." He did seem to enjoy watching Illidan finally cry. He savored it. "What are you thinking now, Illidan? In what delicious, exceptional way are you suffering?"

Illidan admitted, after a wracking sob, "I don't know whether to hate myself so much more now or—or to thank Elune! I had prayed. Secretly, pathetically. In the darkest moments of my life, I begged for it all to be taken away. Somehow, I don't know how. I knew it was impossible." His wings wilted, and he huddled under his scaley arms, too. The man completely crumpled.

Kael'thas told him, "Maybe I was Elune, all along. And you should worship me like a god! A god, for showing you so much mercy! If that's how you choose to see it." He paced around to the other side of him, hissed in his ear, "I still think you're pathetic!"

Illidan was now beyond words.

"So! Nothing changes between us. I will never forgive you for what I know you're capable of, even if you happened not to do it in this timeline." Kael'thas folded arms up into his dark sleeves, or tried to. He noticed then that he was wearing pajamas, not his usual red and gold robes. "Sometimes, I think about how the Bronze dragonflight must be coming after me. But I don't care. I got what I wanted. Even if they kill off this timeline Vashj and I—that I created, then I couldn't give a shit. Let it burn, then. We only have so much time in this life, anyway. But what I did with my time is, I saved my family." He glowered down at Illidan, "And don't you dare say that I saved you. As for that duel you wanted… Well. I suppose we don't need that."

Illidan still hid his face, but he no longer trembled. He seemed to breathe more evenly.

"Why don't I give you a moment, Illidan? It's in neither of our best interests for you to be found here, me tormenting you and you sobbing. I'm sure you'll go away on your own, in time."

"Kael'thas!"

Kael'thas stayed by the door, his hand on the ornate knob.

Then, Illidan couldn't say what he'd needed to yell Kael'thas' name so urgently about.

"Illidan, in my time… I have been called a compassionate warlock. Even merciful. You are still to stay away from my family, to never speak her name, and never, ever, go anywhere near her, nor attempt to remind her—don't tell her. Don't tell her or anyone in my circle about what you did. The crime you committed, only in another life. Because that man is dead. I killed him a thousand times already."

Illidan's jaw trembled, "But you, how did you…" his voice was shaking, "There would have been two of you? Am I wrong? If you hid away while Vashj changed the world?"

"Oh, Illidan. You don't have worry about a second Kael'thas Sunstrider sneaking around, wishing you ill. That was easy enough for me to resolve."

"But how?"

Kaell'thas' smile was dark, "As much as I hated you for what happened that day, in another life, long ago… I hated myself for letting that happen to Saturna." He leaned his head back, exhaled deep. The ebon strands of his hair beneath the blonde hanging over his shoulders, down his back.

Illidan tilted his head, unwilling to really hear or believe what was implied.

"Kael'thas, what have you done?"

Kael'thas' eerie smile stretched, sharpened. But his eyes were wet, "Something you would never, ever do. Because you are not a warlock. And you do not understand how good it feels, how… cleansing it can be, to torture your enemy to death. And then swear on that too familiar, smoldering corpse, to never, ever go so far astray again." He opened the door, managed to sound cheerful, though he could not at all be, "Once it's all done, you feel as if you almost have a new soul." Kael'thas stood in the open doorway, eyes dull, dead. "That Kael'thas is forever gone."

The door had to close and click for Illidan to realize what had just happened to him, and to Kael'thas. And that it was truly real. Their actual life together.

He had pulled Kael'thas through his dreams, in order to get help in Felwood. Kael'thas had pulled him through a thousand different lifetimes in order to fix something that had happened back at the Black Temple. Atone for at least one, horrible sin they shared together.

Fucking crazy warlock.

Author's note: I first wrote My Life for My Prince almost 20 years ago. Today, I would never write a story where a villain that did what Illidan did to Saturna, was later walking around and being treated like a normal character that you can laugh with, watch grow, and so on. You can't really set up a story like that. It's too horrible. I've matured as a writer since then, and I wanted the story to reflect this.

I am also going to retcon Saturna's age from around 19 at the start of the story, to still younger than the other Blood Knights, but in her twenties. I think that's far more appropriate. Originally, I had wanted her to match Jaina Proudmoore's age in Warcraft lore, from the time she first met Arthas and Kael'thas.

Thank you for reading all these years, if you have been. I really appreciate it. I use my fanfiction to practice writing and teach myself what to do, and what not to do. I've learned so many lessons from this experience.