Beneath broken stone and warped metal, a solitary raven panics as it senses imminent danger. It escapes certain death mere seconds before the structure finally crashes to the ground. On soaring above the devastation, the bird spies a wet-eyed woman...
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The Naga's red orbs beguiled me. I was fixated, like a fly watching a spider spinning its web, knowing, only too well it could easily be the arachnid's next meal. Vrsadra, however, surprised me.
Her features softened, and a look of quiet reflection played upon her face as she asked, "I assume you know we were once Highborne?"
Some histories were still vague, but I recalled something about the Naga's origins. "My memory is still hazy, I'm afraid, my Lady."
"Then I shall attempt to refresh it," she said, treading water. "Queen Azshara -monarch of the Highborne - was beautiful, intelligent. Deceitful."
Vrsadra swam around the cabin; her movements somewhat strained as if she was trying to keep certain emotions suppressed. I soon realised why, as her story continued.
"She betrayed us, her people, through a deal with the Burning Legion all to sate her lust for power. When the Well of Eternity collapsed, many of our people died in the Sundering which followed. Those of us who 'survived', were cast to the depthsss."
I listened intently hoping Lady Vrsadra's story would trigger further memories. At that precise moment, the tragedy of her people hovered in the dark recesses of my mind, snippets, no more. But I could not deny, the Naga's story so far, was irrefutably heart-breaking. I waited silently, keen for Vrsadra to continue.
"Our Queen made a second poor judgement call - another pact; this time with the Old Godsss. Azshara said she was saving usss, making usss greater than ever we were; but some saw through her duplicity. Still, she decided our dessstiny - servitude to the Old Godsss, and we were transformed - into thisss..." Vrsadra gestured her serpentine form.
Her tail rippled as she swam to the back of the cabin then returned to face me once more. "Not all of usss serve the Queen, raven. Some of my people live in fear, hiding, dreading her wrath for their desertion.
"Others fight against Azshara's armies. Many more swore to be silent, watchful, living in the deepest reaches of our oceans, waiting for any sign of the Legion returning - for we knew it would. But earth-walkers do not see this; they believe us all just blind subjects of Queen Azshara. We were tarred long ago, with the same brush, and we are feared and hated by them all. Except, that is, for Illidan, Lord of Outland."
She watched me keenly, her red eyes flashing, searching for a spark of recognition in my avian eyes. "Do you not understand why I wish to hear of Illidan, raven?"
"I - I think so," I said. "But, so many pieces remain hidden."
She returned to the table where I was transfixed. "I shall help you focusss little bird. But ultimately, you must pull yourself from the depthsss of your mind."
"I will try. I need to know too."
"Good. Then we will start. Now, concentrate!"
Chanting in Nazja, Vrsadra's magic began to weave and expand around her hands. Silver and blue symbols, minute to the untrained eye, swept around the cabin in effervescent currents.
The incantation reached its peak, and Vrsadra absorbed all the power before discharging it in a radiant stream through the bubble which encompassed me.
I was bound to the spell, it's magical threads and symbols assaulting my body, carving their way in through my feathers, invading my mind.
Initially, it was uncomfortable, an intrusion of my person, but I did not resist.
Gradually, images bled into my consciousness. Many were very personal, between the silver-haired man and the wet-eyed woman. Much as I wished to remain swathed in such blissful imagery, I forced my mind to sift through all my other memories. I needed to locate this Illidan of whom Vrsadra so desperately wanted to learn more.
As my mind opened to visions of long-forgotten faces, emotions ebbed and flowed with each one.
With a jolt, I found myself as a passenger - observing through someone else' eyes. I was staring at strong hands - well-manicured with small callouses on one or two fingers.
Two slender hands slid into view, clasping the manly ones. I looked up; it was the wet-eyed woman again. She was smiling at me, bright, happy. I looked deeper and saw my reflection in her eyes.
My heart surged. I was the silver-haired man! I gasped; overjoyed.
"Do you see him?" I heard Vrsadra's voice, eager but distant.
"I see me!"
"Good! Now you musssst go deeper. Find Illidan," Vrsadra commanded.
Next, I saw many faces; familiar ones. An enormous Draenei swam before my mind's eye - he was my best friend, Vindicator Ocel. And I saw his niece, Lukha, with her family.
A Dwarf, red-haired and bearded, had a gun slung over his shoulder. He was the inimitable Eric Longmaster, Supreme Hunter - as he liked to believe.
A human, male, younger than I; this was Drew Stewart - the traveller from another dimension.
In that same instant, a fact about the wet-eyed woman fell into place - she too, was a traveller, she had been the first, to my knowledge. I ran through a rolodex of names, but for some infuriating reason, could not pinpoint hers. Why? She seemed significant to me, above all others.
"Focussss." The Lady of the Sea persisted.
The Naga's image was more distant than any others, even though she was the newest, most current face of the day. But, not forgetting I was at her mercy, I dove deeper into my memories.
Then, I saw him - Illidan Stormrage; the great Demon Hunter and former Lord of Outland.
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