This story is an elaboration of Illidan's experiences in the third war which ties in to my fan comic about the Burning Crusade, but it can just as well stand on its own. Gul'dan becomes a major influence in Illidan's life as soon as he starts speaking to him through his skull as Gul'dan did with Ner'zhul. It is the first in several short stories I am writing for the major characters in my fan-comic, although this one is going to be the longest. I decided against making this into a comic itself since it's difficult to convey emotion through Blizzard's stale models. I'd like to give it a good title but I can't think of anything at the moment. I would greatly appreciate feedback and also please point out any grammatical or continuity errors.

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight

This is the first part:

The sounds of battle raged all around him, but Illidan Stormrage remained focused and undisturbed. The demon hunter was locked in a deeply magical and meditative state, a practice he commonly undertook for centuries at a time. Physically, he could not escape from his prison within the Barrow Deeps. His sentence was for eternity, the rays of the two moons never to grace his skin ever again. Some day, he thought, they will see that I was right.

In his deep, trance-like state, Illidan reviewed the war against the Burning Legion and the events of its aftermath in his mind. The practice allowed him some subconscious feeling of freedom, but in truth, he kept looking to these memories for a way to fix everything that had gone wrong in his life. It was particularly the day that he scaled the untamed peaks of Mount Hyjal to create a new well of eternity that lingered in his mind. He wished he could make them understand that Elune and druidism could not compete with the might of the Legion. The Burning Legion would return, of this he was sure, and Azeroth would not be prepared.

The screams and cries of death and war around him echoed that of the scenes in his meditation. They blended together, and Illidan could not recognize them as foreign sounds. He heard the voices of his jailors speak muffled threats. Where they really there in his memories to battle the Burning Legion? He could not remember clearly, and scoured through all the scenes of war that he could recall for their faces, but he drew no matches. Something wasn't right.

"Illidan! Is that you?"

Illidan was jerked back into the waking world. That voice, her voice; it was more vivid than anything within his mind. He turned his head to see Tyrande Whisperwind leap off of a frostsaber mount that she favored in battle and run to his aid. He could do nothing but stare, waiting for this cruel hallucination to fade away.

"Illidan, it's me... Tyrande." Only at this moment had she begun to worry and realize what damage 10,000 years of imprisonment would do to a person. She had forgotten about him, as they all had. An overwhelming feeling of shame washed over her. It had been so easy in their state of shock and anger to condemn him to an eternity of hell. Such a fate might have been permissible for the Burning Legion if the Night Elves could manage an ounce of sympathy for any demon, but Illidan was certainly no demon.

Illidan hesitantly reached over to touch her face. He could feel that it was smooth and clean unlike his own. He moved slowly and spoke with the weakened voice of a sickly, old man. "Tyrande... it is your voice! After all these ages spent in darkness, your voice is like the pure light of the moon upon my mind."

"The Legion has returned, Illidan. Your people have need of you once more."

Illidan hung his head down for a moment and then rose to his feet with swiftness that would seem unlikely after thousands of years of incarceration. It surprised Tyrande, who bit back a gasp at the shock. Ash'alah, her faithful frostsaber, crouched down into an alert posture. Illidan briefly paced the distance within his cell. "MY people? I will never owe them anything!"

Tyrande opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped herself as she became aware of Illidan's volatile mood. Instead, she placed her hand on his shoulder. Illidan looked down to her hand, though it initially was an unwelcomed gesture, a feeling of serenity flooded over Illidan and his anger retreated.

"Because I once cared for you, Tyrande, I will help you hunt down the demons."

Tyrande smiled briefly before retracting it, thinking that Illidan could not see it anyways. Illidan could, in fact, see her smile, but he wished he could have seen her beauty with his old eyes. The glowing green orbs he now saw with were granted to him by the Lord of the Burning Legion, Sargeras, allowing him to see the world as the magical energies that flowed in and around it. Living creatures, through his new eyes, only appeared as the energy that shaped their bodies. He missed seeing all the colors of the world.

"Illidan, we must hurry to the surface!" Tyrande's words were urgent, and Illidan quickly located where his glaives, the twin blades of the doom guard Azzinoth that he slew so long ago, were located. His jailors thought they hid them well, but he could always feel their presence; and they called for their master.

"T-traitor.." Illidan looked around to pinpoint where the voice was coming from, and noticed one of his jailors on the floor beaten and bloodied, but still alive, futily attempting to crawl over to them, as if she had the strength to stop them. Illidan recognized her energy signature as Maiev Shadowsong. She had always taken sadistic pleasure in making Illidan's imprisonment as hellishly unbearable as possible.

He reached back his arm with the intent to strike her and end her life as he had wished to do so many times, but Tyrande placed her hand on his chest and moved in front of him, forcing him to halt his attack. She looked up at him with somber eyes, but Illidan's verdant orbs prevented him from reading such emotion. "No, Illidan... there has been enough bloodshed, I have what I came here for," said Tyrande, while attempting to drown out the moans and cries of the living wardens in her ears and avoiding all eye contact with them.

Tyrande led Illidan through the corridors of the barrow deeps, passing over the fallen bodies of Califax, one of the sons of Cenarius, and many other watchers, each one of them believing in their duty so strongly that they defied the command of the High Priestess of Elune on this day. The trail of bodies that Tyrande left began to seem endless, but they eventually reached the end, where they found Malfurion Stormrage looking on in horror.

"Furion!" Tyrande gasped in surprise. She feared the look on her beloved's face, but she would stand by her decision.

"It has been an eternity, brother," Illidan sneered at his twin, "an eternity spent in darkness!"

Malfurion's expression changed as he turned his gaze towards his brother, appearing angry and disgusted at the very site of him. "You were sentenced to pay for your sins, Illidan, nothing more! You've deserved every second of the past 10,000 years!"

"10,000 years, has it really been that long?" Illidan shook the surprise from his mind, returning the contempt his brother shared for him, "And who were you to judge me? We fought the demons side by side, if you recall!"

"Enough of this, both of you!" Tyrande placed herself in the middle of the feuding brothers. "What is done is done! My love, with Illidan's help, we will drive the demons back once again and save what is left of our beloved land!"
"Have you even considered the cost, Tyrande?" Malfurion tried to look back up at the trail of bodies in front of him, his fellow Kaldorei that his beloved killed while attempting to free the one who betrayed their kind so long ago... but he found himself unable to meet their bloodied bodies with his eyes once more. Instead, he greeted Tyrande's pleading gaze with his own, "This betrayer's aid may doom us all before the end. I will have nothing to do with this."

"Let me prove myself, brother! You know what I can do against the demons!"

Malfurion stared down his brother. He could sense that Illidan sincerely wished to help and prove himself, but he had not forgotten his reckless use of magic. Still, there was nothing else he could do with Illidan now other than put him into the heat of battle. Malfurion motioned to one of his students behind him. "Fandral - I want you to take your troops and accompany Illidan to the surface. We need to put a stop to the corruption of these forests. If my brother does ANYTHING disagreeable then.." Malfurion hesitates, "..then do whatever must be done."

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