Of Dreams and Nightmares; Yllithia

A whimper was what woke him. No, it wasn’t the whimper it was the movement. Mutig was used to sleeping in the field where noises were common. But when he heard the sound of movement close by it normally meant a scout had wandered upon him or his party, being the first to wake and ready for anything that could come his way. But this time the movement echoed in his dreams. In his half awake state he recognized the smells and comforts he was blessed with on this night. The movement was nothing to worry about, allowing him to fade back into the dream, replicating real life in the back of his mind. A smile had touched his lips as he took in her scent again, and behind his lids she smiled back at him. But then came the small cry and his eyes had opened fully.

She was still in bed. Still close to him as he always was certain to hold her. In the pitch darkness he could see her eyes closed, but a clear look of distress on her dreaming face. Silently he watched, waiting to see where this was going. His golden hued eyes lightly glowing over her restless body. She reached out her hand, making contact with his bare chest, grasping for something, her nails scratching at his skin looking for something to claw into. Mutig didn’t move, waiting for her to calm down on her own, fighting off whatever it was that antagonized her in her dream.

He sighed inwardly. It seemed her dreams were becoming more common, or at least more so when he shared a bed with her. Sometimes she called out a name, Ellowynn. One he wasn’t familiar with, but she spoke often in her states of dream-filled panic. Always they’d wake him, and often she’d toss and turn through them. Another whimper and her hand went limp, falling lightly to the bed. He glanced at it, worried about her. He worried enough as it was, and these nightmares didn’t help matters. He wasn’t able to be around as much as he would like, and knowing that there were times she would be alone and fighting through one of these made him regret, just for a moment, being so dedicated to his work.

Movement caught his eye, and they traveled back to her face. The tears pooled on the bridge of her nose, slowly dripping from the ridge like a leaky faucet. She was crying in her sleep. Mutig opened his mouth determined that his voice would remind her that there was a waking world she didn’t have to suffer through. “Shhhh.” He softly made the noise, passing through his parted lips. Another teardrop, her eyelids pressing hard together. He ran his fingers through her deep purple locks. “Ylli, quiet now.”

Yllithia let out a sob, her body becoming rigid under Mutig’s touch. “Tserai…”

Her word hit him like a brick in his gut. That was a name he knew, and worse, a name he didn’t care much to hear. Anger flared in Mutig. He wanted to shake her awake, to know why it was him she called out to… then came his reasoning, his understanding of matters as Mutig saw them. A look of hurt crossed his face that no one was privy to in the dark, quickly replaced with the cold stare he was most common to.

Mutig grunted and slipped out of bed, leaving Yllithia to silently weep with her dreams.

Yllithia’s eyes shot open. Her head was spinning. She couldn’t remember when she had fallen asleep, or where she was, but it wasn’t home. She squinted at the ceiling, the odd shapes on it blurry in the dreary dim light of her surroundings. A face above her laughed menacingly from the stone. She groaned and stared at it trying to make sense of what she was seeing. No, it wasn’t a face, it was a skull plastered into the stonework, missing a handful of teeth, staring lifelessly back down at her.

Ylli’s eyes went wide as they darted across the ceiling, then down the walls around her. Hundreds of corpses compressed within the stone, mortar for the citadel she now remembered pushing into. Naxxaramas. The floating castle above Eastern Plaguelands. The home of Kel’thuzad’s current army. Death Knights trained here, undead roamed below waiting for the word from their general, from Kel’thuzad, and now Yllithia was laying in one of the chambers, surely to be made into an animated, soulless corpse as well.

Panic pressed on her chest, she almost froze from fear of what she would find if she examined her surroundings. She had to move, had to start devising a plan of escape. She must have been found out while scouting the halls, gathering information on the Argent Dawns new target. They wouldn’t come for her, she would be just another number lost on the Alliance’s way to victory. But Ylli couldn’t let that happen, not just for herself but her unborn child she carried.

A shuffle from a darkened corner of the room jolted her nerves. Bolting into a crouching position Yllithia searched for the maker of the noise, her eyes falling on a human sized shadow in the far right corner.

“No need to upset yourself, Yllithia. You’re lucky I was here.” The voice calm and steady spoke to her. She knew the voice, but how could she, not in this place. Did someone else, another informant find her? That wouldn’t make much sense; they found her… those Death Knights. It was coming back to her in fragments.

She had gotten too close, looking over one’s shoulder that was reading. He was oblivious, but the other that had come to speak with him, one she didn’t see behind her bumped into Ylli before she knew what was going on. Her surprise was as noted as his, her eyes wide as she was knocked out of the shadows, him running into a hard body where he believed air to only be. She had tried to distract them with her stock of powder, causing a dusty explosion in the room, but they had made too much of a racket, and she was quickly found a second time. Was this her captor? Yllithia’s head spun again eyeing the darkness veiled character in the corner who seemed so familiar to her.

“She’s beautiful, you know.” The man spoke up. ‘Who was he talking to? About?’ “I did want to see her, just because she was a part of you, and you were always so… beautiful to me.” Yllithia shook her head, not understanding what this man was talking about.

“They hit you pretty hard.” He continued. Now she remembered why she had her eyes closed in the first place. They had hit her. Even with her mask and leathers, it was clear she was a woman. Her swollen abdomen showing her pregnancy was the biggest give away. She had covered her stomach as best as she could when she saw them advancing weapons drawn, trying to protect her unborn child, which is when the hilt of the sword came down on her head. “I was … worried at first.”

“Who are you?” Yllithia asked, unable to keep her fear from her voice. It wavered while she attempted to sound strong and determined. She felt frightened in this environment. Apparently stripped of her leather wraps and placed in a gown while she had been out, unarmed, and in unfamiliar and unfriendly territory. She was terrified of the outcome for a spy in this soulless place. Perhaps the walls for their next citadel would be where she ended up.

“My… how time changes things. Don’t you remember the words we once shared? Of everything, that should be the first you recall.”

“I share words with many. And I doubt I would have shared any with someone found here.” She shot back, spitting the words out of her mouth.

The words didn’t seem to have the effect she was hoping. Of course they wouldn’t, this person was death incarnate. He either commanded, or trained for commanding undead armies, people once like her, taken by heartless beings like him. He simple shook his head, the shadows darkening as he moved it from side to side. Movement from his body. ‘Is he drawing a weapon?’ A small cry, a small voice from the movement.

“Shh, shh, shh.” Her captor whispered. “She will see in time as well.” It was a child, an infant. He was cooing to it softly. Horror filled Yllithia as this scene unfolded. She slowly slid her hands down to her belly, no longer protruding as much as it had been the last her eyes had fallen on it… before the attack… Suddenly feeling the loss of its soul within her.

“M-my baby!” She screamed, scattering across the makeshift bed she'd originally awoke on, scrambling towards the corner of the room where he stood. “What have you done to her?!” Yllithia felt light-headed again, weak, unable to sprint as she had attempted. Crawling across the floor, her movements becoming more strained the closer she got to the figure and her child. Like a force was pushing its self onto Yllithia, she was becoming frozen, reaching out to claw at the metal boot, to pull herself up by his long cloak, both inches from reach. Her nails scratching on the concrete floor, tearing at it as frantically as she was able, the force causing her to move at a sluggish pace.

“Please?” She begged. “She’s mine.” The tears weren’t just forming in her eyes, they were falling. Sobs began to over-take Yllithia, unable to move, sprawled on the floor. “… please…”

“Ylli…” That voice. She knew it, it had been said before just like that. Was that guilt? Affection? It still felt cold. “You need to stop.” With that her sobs stopped, but the tears didn’t. It was as if the weight pressed her chest to stop it from convulsing, allowing her to breathe, but no longer spasm. Her hand fell limply to the floor and she forced her eyes up. She wasn’t ready for the next jolt to her incapacitated body.

The man stepped out of the shadows, his face pallid, but a face she knew, or once knew. His eyes as hallow as ever, the gray-hue looking down at her, seemingly dead. His brown hair falling around his face. Cloaked in dark grays and blacks, looking cold to the touch. And her child in his arms. Shock could be seen on Yllithia’s face, her eyes wide, the tears still pouring from them. Her words lost.

“Good. Now listen, Ylli.” He commanded coolly. “I’m going to move you. Back to the bed. You’re not going to fight me. You will remain there. Understood?”

Ylli struggled to nod. Her muscles aching with every fiber that contracted. Her mouth slack while she tried to mouth his name, her voice still unresponsive.

“Very well.” Gently the man set the bundled infant, her bundled infant, in a near by chair. He was quick, precise, making sure not to upset the child that had suckled its self back to sleep. Returning to Yllithia’s deadened body he deftly scooped her up as if she weighed nothing more than a feather, slowly carrying her to where she once laid. His eyes flowing over her, she was staring back at him. As if she were precious cargo, great care was taken to lay her back on the bed. Her body still pressed upon by the unseen force.

“I am the one taking care of you now, Ylli.”

“I…” She croaked. “I don’t… understand…”

He looked over her again, his gray eyes slowly running down her body, coming back to her face. “I wanted to give you so much. You rejected me at every turn, but that one night. Not then.” His glace went to the wall, no longer looking at her, lost in a memory. “I never wanted to see you again after the weeks that passed. You were always putting your duty before your heart. Not any longer.”

Yllithia shook her head. His eyes returned to her, solemn faced.

“I have removed your duty. I’m not the man I was. I’ve found more, Ylli. I answer to myself. And now, now it is my duty to take care of you. No more tears. No more…” He scowled, “obligations. You live only because I made it such.” A small smile touched his lips as he wiped her tears, running his fingers through her hair.

She wanted to say more. To object. To remind him of her child, of her obligations at her home. That people were expecting her. But none of those thoughts could be voiced. Another tear fell; sliding down the side of her face, all that came out was his name, “Tserai…”

He smiled. Her eyes closed. She felt so very tired.

Yllithia’s eyes opened, the sun pouring through the bedroom window. She stared up at the familiar wooden ceiling, the noises of Stormwind drifting up to her as she lay in bed. Absently she chewed on her bottom lip, recalling fragments of her dream, her eyes feeling thick with the tears she was sure she had shed during it. She was alone, as was usual for her mornings, staring blankly at the ceiling, also quite ordinary for her. He was still in her dreams, and still as frightening as ever each time she saw him there.

Taking a deep breath she rolled over, kicking her feet out of bed, the sheets being tossed off. Ylli rubbed a hand around her round stomach, getting bigger each day. She spoke softly to her baby; more for herself to put her nightmare behind those closed doors inside her heart. “You’re safe with me. I won’t let anyone take you.”

• For more stories regarding Tserai you can visit Into The Dark, a blog done by the original creator of Tserai Azurio.