#dhlyren

[firedemoned]

Recognition

There was great beauty in Azsuna. Fighting by the side of dragons was a thrill, but there were moments Lyren simply had to stop and stare. it was achingly clear his people’s own ancestors had gotten their unique sense of beauty from exactly these sorts of things. The unicorns especially made him wistful - so like an unlike the horses of the Eastern Kingdoms.

Deadly, too - or so he assumed. Crazed hunter of demons he might be but he wasn’t about to test it. Of course, considering they likely had magic of their own... he wouldn’t be surprised if others would. Where once his own people had striven to desperate measures to stave off a state they called wretched...

So now did their cousins have the withered. Their need for magic and mana was much too familiar. Addicted, dependent... willing to turn on anyone and anything nearby for the slightest fix.

Yes, he had seen this before. A new fury rose at his brethren’s careless attitude toward helping the natives of Broken Isles. Perhaps the kaldorei among them might not quite understand. But the sin’dorei would. Add on to their own unique wants as demon hunters, the ache for fel down in his very bones and they should understand very well.

Even the look of them was... familiar.

He had slept through the re-igniting of the Sunwell. But if they had done something for the Sunwell, then something could be done about the Nightwell. It wasn’t in him to usually feel so much sympathy for others - oh, he was helping, but knew it was for the best interests of Azeroth to collect their allies.

In the case of the Nightfall... their plight was too much like the sin’dorei’s. Even if they were of no help with the Legion, it could not be ignored.

[firedemoned]

Divide

Despite the united front they provided toward outsiders, things were not always so clear cut within the Illidari.

“We have no need of them.” The argument was new - they had needed people in the beginning, however reluctant. Or perhaps not new - certainly Altruis had cautioned against trusting anyone else. But it was certainly louder.

“Like we didn’t need the Horde? The Alliance? We help them with their problems, they help all of us with the Legion.” It seemed a simple argument. Lyren didn’t understand why they were even having it. The defenses were reignited in Azsuna. Surely some help could be granted to the dragons, the ghost elves.

“If they can’t deal with their own problems they are not worthy allies,” someone said stiffly and at that, even Lyren had to scoff.

“Are we worthless allies then? Hands up if you remember being stuck in a cage for years.” And like the brat he was he did in fact stick his own hand in the air - as did a few others. 

There was a low growl from the opposition. Lyren wasn’t well liked as it was. “What would you know? You think someone like you is any help? Your demon was a dog.”

“That is enough.” The firm command came from a female voice and they all cringed. “We are all Illidari. And we are not so few that we cannot both defend ourselves and let those who wish to go help others to go. But you will be on your own out there. If you get yourselves in trouble and we have the resources we will try and come for you. But I cannot guarantee we will be able to.”

“Fine with me. When you get yourselves killed,” There was a special sneer toward Lyren, who bared his teeth right back. “Don’t expect any help from me.”

Bad pack, the voice the wasn’t his grumbled and he grimaced. “Believe me, no one was expecting you to lift a finger to do anything that doesn’t benefit yourself.”

Deliberately, he turned his back. There was a snarl, a shift of movement and yes, he expected to get attacked at any moment. 

“Let it go,” someone whispered quietly - too quietly for most of them to hear. But he had.

Because he had, after all, eaten the heart of a “dog”. 

[firedemoned]

Turmoil

"One of us must be sacrificed," Sevis Brightflame proclaimed gravely. It should have been a decision of strategy, or morals. Something besides the ringing in his ears, his sister's voice a whisper etched into his mind.

"What have you become, Lyren?"

The reason he made the decision wasn't the right way to go about it.

But it was an easy decision to make. He welcomed the glaive to his throat, the expected darkness…

Illidan's curious words in his mind, intrigued, maybe a little proud. Those were not expected.

It turned out, he didn't get to run away from his problems that easily.

[firedemoned]

Felstalker - Beginnings

Once she had stalked the greatest of her master’s enemies with her pack behind her. She had taken down foes with impossible skill and cunning. She had been larger than her pack mates, more intelligent. An experiment - but one that had worked out. Her master spoke to her with kind words where other felstalkers got barked only orders.

She was brave. She was vicious. She was the hunter of hunters. She was ALPHA of her pack, she was - 

Summoned. By strange magics that had her snarling. Someone had marked her! Marked her to later bring her elsewhere and she hadn’t known, hadn’t sense the subtle magic. She felt a moment of respect in her bewilderment.

“Remember what you have been taught,” a voice rumbled, deep and dark. Hooves scraped in the corner of her vision and for a moment she thought nathrezim but it wasn’t quite right. He didn’t smell right. Didn't feel like a master at all - certainly not hers.

“I will, Lord Illidan,” a new, lighter voice said. And this one was... small. And elf-thing. But the smaller ones. By a sniff, a male. Pale skinned, thin, weak seeming. Small - they had let a runt live? She barked a laugh, paid more attention to the crowd of observing elves than the one in front of her. He was no threat.

He attacked her - with magic. Powerful, yes, cunning, quick, not so weak - but it was still magic. And she was still an eater of it.  She lunged for him, gobbling down the energy he brought to bear as she went. She expected his dodge.

She did not expect the sword.

Elf-thing mages rarely used swords. She was wary now.

But not wary enough. Her teeth almost got his throat in the ensuing battle and she allowed confidence to flow through her. His sword was light, quick, but she was quicker. So she thought, despite the wounds that opened across her skin. 

Angry gashes flowed fel tainted blood. His non sword arm was mangled and broken. She bared bloody teeth. He bared his right back.

Her lunge went high, aiming to end this all at once. But he was not where she expected. He was past her, behind and she too slow - 

Like she was the prey and he the hunter, he cut into the tendons of her back legs. She howled her fury - no one howled back.

She expected the blow - but it was not one that killed her. Not completely. She was alive when it cut open her chest, when magic bound her very self to the still beating heart. She was alive when he ate her up, down to the last bite. And then she was...

Him.

And he was here.

Bound irrevocably together. May the Void take pity on them both and consume them soon.

[firedemoned]

...Or Not

Lord Illidan dead.

The Illidari trapped.

This was not at all how he wanted to go home. And from the crystal there was... nothingness. He could see, faintly, through the fel spell wrapped around him. Hear. But he could not move at all.

He struggled. of course he did. But it was impossible. His mind could move however it wanted, but his body could not move even an inch.

It was suffocating except he wasn’t breathing. or not breathing. he was nothingness, trapped, trapped - and at first when being moved he at least had that as a comfort. Something new. And then... it was the same. For... days. Weeks. He couldn’t tell. Only rarely did anything change. At first.

They would check on them. At first.

But then when it became clear they could not escape, would not escape... even less. More time of nothingness. Or maybe all there ever would be was this. The end of the world could have come and gone in the world beyond them. How would they know?

For Lyren there was on, slim connection. The pulse of the bond in his head. Weaker than it had been once, forever lessened by their experiences, by other people’s attempts to care for them. But it existed. lisaerys existed, alive and well.

He hated her for it, at times.

If the bond hadn’t existed, he could have left behind the lingering crumbs of hope that one day, someone might come for them. One day, she might forgive him and actually look.

She won’t

(She didn’t.)

Instead he was left with the knowledge that there was something out there, and the tiny stubborn kernel that he might, one day, get out.

Impossibly...

It proved true. Not by any outside influence, but by the captor herself freeing them - some of them. Enough that when one of his brethren came for him he was ready. or so he thought.

The crystal shattered as if it was nothing. And he fell to his knees, scrabbling at the air, at himself, at the floor as if it might disappear. His fellow Illidari waited grimly, gave him a whole 30 seconds to contemplated the (days weeks months years?) lengthy imprisonment in his own mind.

Then arms hauled him up, glaives were shoved into his hands and a voice rasped, “There is work to be done.”

Terrible pack mates. 

He welcome the voice that should be gone - she too had been silent so long he had thought her gone. He breathed in air. His fingers tightened on the glaives.

He could do this.

[firedemoned]

Doubts

Marduum was green, lifeless, ugly.

It was their only hope.

In their camp, the remains of Mannethrel Darkstar were being efficiently moved. No time to mourn. They had a mission to complete. But Lyren's attention lingered, his stomach rolling at the thought. Their leaders had been so eager to teach, and they so eager to learn. Lyren himself had been one of them, learning the shape of this new power so he might survive a little longer, be a bit more help to those like Kor'vas and Kayn who went forward without nary a stumble to indicate their doubt.

Now new power settled under his skin and he was left to wonder - was she right?

Were they becoming monsters?

Darling little elf, what did you think you were doing when you tore my still beating heart from my chest?

He tried to shrug off the voice. They had a mission after all. And yet…

You drank my soul, my power, my very self down. Consumed me and tried to make me you. Is that not the work of a monster?

He had to wonder.

[firedemoned]

Val’sharah - Shattered Harmony

The dragons of Aszuna had been saved. Lyren had enjoyed the triumph of it, basked in Senegal’ return to glory. 

But there were other places to be. Soon enough, news came that a group was forging ahead to bring the Tidestone home to Dalaran. That was signal enough to Lyren to move on. He had not been chosen for such a task, nor did he think he should have been. There were others to help, people that needed it. A call came for people to explore Val’sharah - but it seemed that there was little help needed by the time her arrived.

He was... less than enthused to see Malfurion Stormrage in the flesh. But even his presence could not mar the place he had found himself. Val’sharah was green, not like Marduum, but the green of life.

Deep browns of fresh fertile earth. Blues to mirror the sky reflecting from gurgling streams. And most important of all - delicious fish that practically jumped into his claws.

“Mossgill Perch,” a dryad informed him brightly and he barely stopped his reflexive scowl in her direction, wings flaring as if to protect his foot from her prying gaze. She seemed unaffected, bounding around him with hair flying every which way. “They’re best fried in Muskenbutter! Or so they say. i don’t eat meat, and you seem to be doing just fine!”

“I have teeth,” he shrugged, baring them to display what he meant. She peered in close, invading his personal space without the slightest bit of hesitation.

“So I see - Oh! come on! He’s going to see the Lord of the Forest!” She lifted him up as if he weighed nothing and threw him onto her back. before he could protest - he had no need to see Cenarius - the dryad had taken off after Malfurion with him clinging to her spine. 

Fawns watched them spring by with mild curiosity. Flowers and trees of a variety he had seen nowhere else in his life sprouted from the ground. Val’sharah seemed an untouchable land of peace and harmony carefully tended by the druids. 

His opinion was proven wrong as the dryad came to a stop with a gasp. He slid off of her back and watched where Malfurion had gone.

The Lord of the Forest had fallen.

[firedemoned]

Not Alone

It wouldn’t leave him be. He wasn’t even sure where it came from. One moment he had been fighting against the urge to gobble up the manage in the pool of the blue dragon, the next there was... 

He wasn’t sure actually. The dragons laughed at him, chuckled and told him he had good luck. Good luck to be followed by a cross between a dragon and a bug? A color changing dragon-bug.

“It’s a Fey Dragon,” one of the blues explained, smiling at him from an elven form. He put a hand on his shoulder. “They don’t trust easily. She must have sensed something good about you.”

“Or she thinks I’m food,” he scoffed suspiciously.

“Oh no, she eats insects. Not cute elves.” The dragon grinned at him, shifted infinitesimally closer.

Oh. Oh. The dragon was - he was - 

Lyren had never been good at this. “I should get her a saddle,” he decided hurriedly, face the color of flames as he ducked away. Stupid puppy, was a thought he could easily agree with. Right now, dealing with the dragon seemed suddenly a much happier task.