THE ILLIARDI'S HEROINE {WORLD OF WARCRAFT}

Shatter Me

Once morning sprouted over the arid deserts of Outland, Kelthorn had me awake, dressed, and ready for training. Although it was hard for me to tell what time it was, as the sky appeared dark all day. The only difference of night in Kalimdor and night in Outland is small spheres scattered in the sky. Kelthorn said they're planets dotted around the horizon. As my vision enhanced in an array of colors, they became more distinct. His favorite was the large blue one clearest above Zangamarsh. We haven't left the Hellfire Peninsula just yet.

I used a stick to help me walk around the dark, rocky caverns since there was no light to help me tell the difference between a stone wall and an open path. It took at least 20 minutes to find my way out of the dungeon when I finally felt the dry, harsh air of the outdoors. The sand was soft under my bare toes, and I scrunched them into the dirt as my journey continued. Bright red figures scattered across the lot, and I made sure to stay away from those. They were other demon hunters, or just demons waiting to be slain.

I could hear the muttering and whispering. Who is she? Where did she come from? Is she the one Illidan chose? Is she the chosen one?

Chosen one? I've been called many things other than that, but I must possess some purpose in this god-forsaken-

Oof!

My thoughts were stunned when I walked into a tall, stone-like figure and fell back, knocking my head against the soft ground, and the wind out of my lungs.

The figure bent down to hover over me, grasping my hand into theirs. "Rule number one, alertness is survival."

"What about rule number two?" I sneered, biting down on my tongue. "... Pick on someone your own size."

I picked my legs up and shoved them under the gut of none other than Kelthorn, throwing him off of me in one quick kick, but he was able to stop himself from landing on his back. I didn't want to hurt him anyway, just show him what he was dealing with.

He walked over to me and held his arm out, which I took as a sign of forgiveness, pulling me upright in a wobbly position.

"How will she train?" A stranger questioned. "She can hardly stand straight."

"She is ready, we cannot question Lord Illidan's commands. Especially with this one, for she is gifted..." Kelthorn paused for a moment as if raising an eyebrow. "Though I have yet to see this gift."

"You speak as though I am deaf," I spoke with a thorn in my voice, adjusting the ties on my shirt. "Give me time and I will train, I will learn your ways of the fel."

"Very well," Kelthorn said with a smirk in his voice, backing away with the stranger. "Ilvie, give our champion space."

Two demon hunters approached the empty battleground. There was a rope fence surrounding the small circle arena, when I grasped it in my hand to walk inside, it was tattered, torn, and soaked with fresh blood.

"Today, you will be fighting this,"

They carried a large metal crate on their backs until they slammed it onto the ground, red sand spit out from under the box as whatever was inside squirmed and screamed behind metal bars. It was one of those demon dogs, as I could tell by its faint outline. I had fought one before, but maybe that was in a dream when I was asleep. I had obviously fought much bigger, but I'm not at my full potential anymore.

I left my stick by the gate and dragged my index claw across a long wooden table of weapons. I continued to glance up at the demon, touching each blade to infer which one could kill it the quickest. When I touched the long sword, I heard Kelthorn whisper: "Yes, that one will do nicely." I thought about it for a moment, but realized I had never fought with swords. Then my fingers fell upon a warglaive, a fine weapon like a double-sided sword with a large, decorative handle in the middle- it was the weapon of Demon Hunters. I should use this one, to prove I am a natural, but instead chose to ignore it.

It was then that I fell upon a petite dagger, its quillion was intricately crafted to fit in the hands of a rogue, and its pommel was wrapped in boar's skin with a decorative red crystal on the bottom. But then again, everything looked red to me. I took the feeble dagger in my clutch and began to walk into the middle of the arena. Everyone hissed: "What is she thinking?"

As strong as my gravely unworked legs could carry me, I made my way to the middle of the arena. The beast flared its nostrils and hot smoke flooded from its mouth like a gust of light. Anyone could tell it was enraged, I was given the task to put it out of its misery.

Before I could finish my nod of approval, the crate was unlatched, and out erupted the fel beast.