((WR - April 2021)) My Felmortal


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Estheris Duskwillow was a young and strong woman with wild, violet hair that cascaded down her shoulders and to the center of her back. She was adorned with dark red and orange leaves, both in her hair and as a circlet. Her long ears were pierced with blade-like earrings, a matching piercing above her left eyebrow. Her skin, the color of amnesia roses. She wore a dark, purple shirt, cropped to show off her rock-hard abdominal muscles that she paired with tight, leather pants and fashionable boots made for walking. A set of long, angry horns sprouts from her head, reaching towards the sky like they were cheering, a blindfold covering the exposed and smoldering sockets of her eyes. She was a true master of the smolder now. Smizing was her greatest skill.

The Illidari sat upon the ground, her legs crossed one over the other, conversing quietly with her overenthusiastic friend when HE walked over. He was beautiful. Perfect in every possible way. Estheris felt her heart start to beat harder in her chest, thump thumping like the beat of a drum at a raging party. Tall, dark, and handsome, with glowing green eyes the color of fel fire and adorned with fluorescent green tattoos. Illidan Stormrage. The object of her every desire. Estheris follows the sounds of his movements, unable to properly see him anymore, but fully aware of how glorious he truly was.

“Estheris Duskwillow,” he says, his voice rich and smooth, like dark, warm chocolate on a cold winter’s day.

She jumps slightly, looking up at him with her blindfolded orbs facing the sky. “Yes?” Her voice is quiet, but powerful, like the sound of wind rustling through trees in the autumn. The sound of a storm brewing.

“It is not your time.” The words are cryptic, they have no meaning to her in that moment. “You and I are similar, you are not ready yet.” And with that, he walked away, disappearing into nothingness and leaving her with Ailasia once more. Estheris turned to look for her overenthusiastic friend, about to brag to her about how fantastic she was, how the Illidan Stormrage had spoken to her and said that she was similar to him, but she was nowhere to be seen. The Illidari frowned. Must have gotten jealous that he was speaking to her. Clearly.

The Illidari feels wind begin to pool at her feet, turning and spinning and rushing in every which way. A large gust hits her from behind, as if trying to push her forward. She stumbles, falling forward and… when her eyes open again, she is being tended to in a medical camp, a large bandage wrapped around her bound chest with a dark stain upon the front.

Estheris Duskwillow, honestly speaking, wasn’t certain when she awoke from her slumber, unable to tell if it truly was a dream or if she had experienced such a wondrous event in real time. As she sits in the camp, she frowns. No, no dream was that real. He had been right in front of her, she had smelt him. The smell of smokey, demonic fires. She had felt the warmth radiating off his skin. It was real. He was real. She sits up, feeling a pang of hurt in her chest that radiated down to her abdomen, like she had been stabbed and beaten. She looked down, at the stained bandage, frowning deeply. Ailasia stood beside her, looking down, her teal hair (the color of brilliant, crystal-clear tropical waters) tumbling down her shoulder gracefully. It was hard to see the expression upon the other Illidari’s face, though she thought she saw… concern? Concern for what? She was incredible! Amazing! She was as powerful as they came, Illidan had told her!

"Es?"

"What?"

"Nothing. Just making sure you were alive."

The two sit in pleasant silence afterwards, leaving Estheris with nothing but her thoughts.

Little did she know, she had been stabbed and beaten, offered herself up as a sacrifice for greater power against the demonic army encroaching upon them. Her body and all that it held, used up as she lay upon an alter, knife piercing her stomach and SLICING. No sacrifice was too great to stop the Burning Legion. All she did know, was that Illidan had spoken to her: she and him were the same. They were together.

She sits up, shoulders pushed back confidently. No demon stood a chance against her now.

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