THE ILLIARDI'S HEROINE {WORLD OF WARCRAFT}

Eclipse

Sitting before me was an elf of great stature, I could feel the heat coming off of his body from the entrance of the cave. The old man who was by my side disappeared suddenly, and I felt trapped. I couldn't see nor feel where I was going, all I had to guide me was the cobblestones that went in a straight path. I walked blindly in his direction until a growl filled my ears. I froze in place.

"Down, Julodis." A rasp, snarl-like voice echoed and the growling halted. "Melithar Nighthelm... I've been expecting your arrival, been quite patient of it, too."

I nodded. If I wasn't feeling cornered, I would have made a snarky comment. Something along the lines of: "yes, eight hundred years worth of waiting to be exact", but I figured that was inappropriate.

I vaguely remembered what Lord Illidan looked like, all I know is that he was triple my size with giant wings, glowing green tattoos and wore great, swirling horns. I stood with my head low and my hands stiff at my sides. It wasn't awkward since I couldn't look at his face.

"How do you feel?" He asked in a grumble. "Dazed, confused, I imagine. Though it was centuries ago, I remember the first time I woke up in this new body. I was afraid at first, but I grew to accept it."

"I feel..." I felt a clot in my throat, thinking of myself made the voices stronger. "Power."

"Power?" His chuckle was frightening. He reached his long claw to my chin and raised it high to look into his eyes. I scanned what was in front of me, but I saw nothing. "In my ten thousand years, I heard no hunter come to me saying they felt power. Normally they would feel torment, rage, or confusion. Do you not feel those things?"

"I do," I said with restraint in my voice. He could tell I was hurting. "The voices, they don't stop. They keep asking me to join them, and other things in a language I do not understand. But there are things from my past I know are long gone, and that brings me peace."

"Very well, Melithar Nighthelm," I cringed when he said my name. "You are to begin your training, but first, we'll get those voices under control..."

He put his large hand on the small of my back and lead me down an empty hallway. Somehow without sight, I could almost sense how tall he was in comparison to me and that his wings were just above my horns. I could tell that the hallway was very wide and wondrously long, and in between the heavy stones were rooms that inhabited other beings- demonic beings.

"What am I?" I asked in the quiet of our journey. "What do I call myself? I couldn't be an elf anymore, could I?"

Lord Illidan sighed within clenched teeth. "We call ourselves Demon Hunters..." He paused for a moment as if he were about to tell a tedious story. "My kind made a pact a long, long time ago to fight against the tormenting forces of chaos with our own, terrible powers against it. As you are aware of, we ritually blind ourselves in exchange for a spectral sight that allows us to better sense our prey. We are known to be unpredictable adversaries with our enhanced awareness, together with great ability and magical prowess. In time, you will wield demonically charged warblades in battle and call upon demonic energies to augment your formidable combat skills- the ones we all know you have. Now that you have morphed into your new body, all history will be aligned within you, and your actions can differ what takes place in the future."

If I could look up to Lord Illidan, my eyes would be full of fear, but I would be afraid enough to avenge my family. My hands began to shake for a reason I don't know, my emotions have been strange the last few hours. The voices in my head got louder when we stopped talking, and I cringed at the pressure in the middle of my temple.

"When do they stop?" I asked with a tense voice, my hand quivered as it touched my forehead. My skin was still smooth, but not as soft. It's as if I was made of marble.

I heard a pair of footsteps walk into the hallway so I halted along with Illidan.

"Hush now, Melithar, let Kelthorn take you to where someone can help you with your problem. He will equip you with your runic tattoos. It will help with the voices." I felt a smaller hand reach for my arm and I exchanged my grasp onto the new person. I felt so weak having to depend on others to get around, but seeing nothing but grey and the occasional shadow is so gravely frightening... I wish I could shut my eyes tight one moment and then open them with a vision again. It's like a never ending nightmare, and this was my life now.

"Is this Kelthorn that's holding me now?" I asked, looking into the direction I assumed his head was in.

"Yes it is," A strong but gentle voice replied. It reminded me of Emrain's voice, and a small part of me withered.

"Finally, someone my age," I said with relief, and he chuckled. "How old are you, Kelthorn?"

He pondered for a moment as he lead me down the long, damp hallway. I felt his claws grasp around my forearm a little tighter and I winced. It didn't hurt, but it was strange, still.

"About one thousand seven hundred and... something. You lose track after your first millennium."

I nodded slowly, maybe he wasn't so close to my age. "Right, well, apparently I'm eight hundred and forty three, not counting the twenty years I had from my mortal life."

"I was turned at the same age, too."

Kelthorn and I bonded during our walk to wherever he was taking me. It was supposedly to give me my tattoos. He explained to me that the voices in my head will only get stronger as I age, so he will mark my body with Arcane magic ruins. Apparently it keeps the fel forces toned down in order for me to remain sane. Sane enough for my training, he said.