How long has it been?
Time no longer made sense. When all you see is a green prism surrounding you, there is no reference to day or night. The only thing that would break the seclusion would be a tortured scream from another Illidari, slipping slowly away.
Was that him?
He took to consuming the demon souls more than she had. Just enough was Cayli's method of training, Not that she did not want to do whatever it took to be able to save home, she just could not bring herself to give that much away. He on the other hand seemed to almost enjoy it. Commanding them to be a part of him, controlling them. She regularly feared that he took on too much, too many demon souls bound to control.
When all you have is time, madness becomes your greatest enemy. Cayli struggled to keep herself. She did not know why she continued to fight, nothing made sense anymore. Her prism became her only reality. He wouldn't fail, I will see him
Silence is shattered, the sharp crackling of the prisms falling to the ground fill the chambers. What is this? A fractured line appears before her. Her torment is finally ending? Pain, the first thing she has felt in years, as she crashed to the ground. Struggling to her feet, she stumbles,muscles fighting to work after all that time. Her vision is blurred, struggling to focus. "COME! The Wardens have released us! The Legion has invaded Azeroth and taken Lord Illidan!"
Cayli processed what her rescuer shouted, but it failed to take her mind as priority EZRA! The first words to be uttered in a decade. Grabbing a pair of glaives sitting near her tomb, she began breaking open every prism left closed. Not bothering to let them know why they had been realized, she kept going, until finally she found her prize.
Fel Glimpses
Re: Fel Glimpses
Ten years.
Ten years is a long time to be locked away, imprisoned from all you know, away from all you hold dear. And when one is already teetering upon the brink of darkness, those ten years can transform into a multitude of lifetimes. Memories appear. They mutate. No memory is flawless, and upon each replay they are jostled and ripped asunder further.
Esrythalon roared when his prison cell opened. His body contorted, muscles flexing upon his solid frame. From his back he felt the whisper touch of wings unfurling. The magic containing him shattered entirely, freeing him from his imprisonment and unleashing a tumultuous wave of thoughts and emotions over him.
He hungered. Who released him? He wondered where he was. Thirst threatened to close up his throat. Focus eluded him.
A woman stepped into his field of view. She was fuzzy, moving erratically. His double-vision was limited to her, behind her he could see the details of the dark prison walls without issue. By instinct alone he called upon his spectral sight and watched two right hands reach for him -- one-tainted and the other not. Once he felt her hand upon his arm, the image solidified.
“Ezra!” she shouted in Thalassian.
“Come on!” she urged, her petite hand pulling upon his arm with more strength than he imagined.
He stumbled out of his prison cell and cupped her shoulder to steady himself. “Where are we?” His voice was deep, barking out his words in demonic.
She hesitated, if only to give him a curious look. “The Vault of the Wardens. Maiev released Kor'vas and instructed him to release us all.”
“Release us?” Ezra kept his hand on her shoulder as she led him through the Vault. From other cells their compatriots were being released, thanking those who broke the spell upon the door. Few looked as flustered as he felt. “Maiev did this?” Ezra paused and forced her to stop walking as well. Their people drifted past the pair in ones and twos, murmuring acknowledgements along the way. Finally Ezra lifted his head, some of the confusion missing from his face. “I remember. We returned to Illidan - we watched as that wretch of a Warden imprisoned him.”
The woman nodded, encouraging him to begin walking once more and directing him down another hallway of the Vault. “And us in turn.”
Ten years is a long time to be locked away, imprisoned from all you know, away from all you hold dear. And when one is already teetering upon the brink of darkness, those ten years can transform into a multitude of lifetimes. Memories appear. They mutate. No memory is flawless, and upon each replay they are jostled and ripped asunder further.
Esrythalon roared when his prison cell opened. His body contorted, muscles flexing upon his solid frame. From his back he felt the whisper touch of wings unfurling. The magic containing him shattered entirely, freeing him from his imprisonment and unleashing a tumultuous wave of thoughts and emotions over him.
He hungered. Who released him? He wondered where he was. Thirst threatened to close up his throat. Focus eluded him.
A woman stepped into his field of view. She was fuzzy, moving erratically. His double-vision was limited to her, behind her he could see the details of the dark prison walls without issue. By instinct alone he called upon his spectral sight and watched two right hands reach for him -- one-tainted and the other not. Once he felt her hand upon his arm, the image solidified.
“Ezra!” she shouted in Thalassian.
“Come on!” she urged, her petite hand pulling upon his arm with more strength than he imagined.
He stumbled out of his prison cell and cupped her shoulder to steady himself. “Where are we?” His voice was deep, barking out his words in demonic.
She hesitated, if only to give him a curious look. “The Vault of the Wardens. Maiev released Kor'vas and instructed him to release us all.”
“Release us?” Ezra kept his hand on her shoulder as she led him through the Vault. From other cells their compatriots were being released, thanking those who broke the spell upon the door. Few looked as flustered as he felt. “Maiev did this?” Ezra paused and forced her to stop walking as well. Their people drifted past the pair in ones and twos, murmuring acknowledgements along the way. Finally Ezra lifted his head, some of the confusion missing from his face. “I remember. We returned to Illidan - we watched as that wretch of a Warden imprisoned him.”
The woman nodded, encouraging him to begin walking once more and directing him down another hallway of the Vault. “And us in turn.”
Re: Fel Glimpses
The situation did not afford them much time to dwell on the Warden’s imprisonment of Illidan, or themselves. No sooner did they find comfort in standing again, the desperation became clear. The stink of the Legion filled the vault.
“You better wake up fast Ezra!” snarked Cayli in Thalassin. The confused stare he offered back did little to dampen her spirits. “Come on, there are Demons to kill!” The language came easy to her. She had rehearsed this moment in her head. Calling to Ezra in demonic was not her first choice, but she did what she had to, so he would stay by her side.
There was beauty in watching the pair fight. Their motions seemed like a well rehearsed routine of acrobatics. Cayli would vault from Ezra’s shoulders, striking down a large demon, his glaive slicing one at the knee for her to land onto. They cut a path to the Betrayers chamber. Waiting inside was Gul’Dan and Cordana Felsong, herself once charged with protecting the Vault, she opened the way for the Legion to enter.
Illidan was gone, captured by the Legion. “ASHJ!” pierced the air, Esrythalon’s voice demanded attention. A soft snicker escaped Cayli’s mouth, there was no humour in their predicament, only in her husband's choice of words. It became clear there was no reward to stay behind. They must get out of the Vault. Whether the concentration of Illidari, or Gul’dan redacting his forces, the fight to the surface seemed easy.
Cayli vaulted up the final stairs, dragging Ezra almost to the ground, the exit was coming near.
“Grass!” She spouted off so he could understand “It’s dead” was all he spoke.
Sweet would be how to describe the taste of the first breaths of air after you escape your prison. “Demon Hunters!” a unfamiliar voice calls out to them “I am Archmage Khadgar, Leader of the Kirin Tor, Azeroth Needs your help!” The crow has become a man. “To Orgrimmar!” the mage commanded, summoning a portal to Orgrimmar. Ezra was the first to go, perhaps because he did not understand the man, or where we were going.
The Horde capital of Orgrimmar is the last place they thought they would find themselves. They fought alongside the old Alliance before retreating to Outland. The towering orcs looked with disgust towards them. Other Sin’Dori walked about, offering the same distasteful glares. Cayli’s face furled with confusion at the sight of a large bear, walking upright with a large mug of ale in one hand, and tucked neatly under it’s other arm, a large keg. Trolls, the undead, even large Tauren.
The pair wandered, helping at a funeral, and rutting up some dreadlords hiding within the walls of the city. Through it all, it had became clear to Cayli that Ezra had lost some of himself while he was locked away. The warmth of her company only seemed to offer him familiarity. “When did we meet, Ezra?” a goblin standing near yelled something at the two, cursing their demonic language. “The vault, you freed me.”. For the first time, Cayli’s heart became heavy. Their history, their story, forgotten, erased by the Warden’s damned imprisonment.
“GET UP! We are going!” she yelled fiercely as she pulled him to his feet.
“Where?” his confusion matching that when he as first was broken free.
“Home”
“You better wake up fast Ezra!” snarked Cayli in Thalassin. The confused stare he offered back did little to dampen her spirits. “Come on, there are Demons to kill!” The language came easy to her. She had rehearsed this moment in her head. Calling to Ezra in demonic was not her first choice, but she did what she had to, so he would stay by her side.
There was beauty in watching the pair fight. Their motions seemed like a well rehearsed routine of acrobatics. Cayli would vault from Ezra’s shoulders, striking down a large demon, his glaive slicing one at the knee for her to land onto. They cut a path to the Betrayers chamber. Waiting inside was Gul’Dan and Cordana Felsong, herself once charged with protecting the Vault, she opened the way for the Legion to enter.
Illidan was gone, captured by the Legion. “ASHJ!” pierced the air, Esrythalon’s voice demanded attention. A soft snicker escaped Cayli’s mouth, there was no humour in their predicament, only in her husband's choice of words. It became clear there was no reward to stay behind. They must get out of the Vault. Whether the concentration of Illidari, or Gul’dan redacting his forces, the fight to the surface seemed easy.
Cayli vaulted up the final stairs, dragging Ezra almost to the ground, the exit was coming near.
“Grass!” She spouted off so he could understand “It’s dead” was all he spoke.
Sweet would be how to describe the taste of the first breaths of air after you escape your prison. “Demon Hunters!” a unfamiliar voice calls out to them “I am Archmage Khadgar, Leader of the Kirin Tor, Azeroth Needs your help!” The crow has become a man. “To Orgrimmar!” the mage commanded, summoning a portal to Orgrimmar. Ezra was the first to go, perhaps because he did not understand the man, or where we were going.
The Horde capital of Orgrimmar is the last place they thought they would find themselves. They fought alongside the old Alliance before retreating to Outland. The towering orcs looked with disgust towards them. Other Sin’Dori walked about, offering the same distasteful glares. Cayli’s face furled with confusion at the sight of a large bear, walking upright with a large mug of ale in one hand, and tucked neatly under it’s other arm, a large keg. Trolls, the undead, even large Tauren.
The pair wandered, helping at a funeral, and rutting up some dreadlords hiding within the walls of the city. Through it all, it had became clear to Cayli that Ezra had lost some of himself while he was locked away. The warmth of her company only seemed to offer him familiarity. “When did we meet, Ezra?” a goblin standing near yelled something at the two, cursing their demonic language. “The vault, you freed me.”. For the first time, Cayli’s heart became heavy. Their history, their story, forgotten, erased by the Warden’s damned imprisonment.
“GET UP! We are going!” she yelled fiercely as she pulled him to his feet.
“Where?” his confusion matching that when he as first was broken free.
“Home”