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Illidan was out patrolling the gates of the Black Temple, hooves kicking up a bit of reddish dust from the parched ground. It hadn’t rained in forever, which was probably a good thing as fel acid coming from the sky wasn’t healthy for anyone. The little demon hunters loved to flap about and attempt to drink the stuff, but it was so concentrated it often burned their skin. And while they were used to sacrifices, pain and discomfort, Illidan was firm in reducing as much unnecessary injury as possible.
Today, he observed the Shivarra playing a hand-slapping game with a couple of demon hunters, amused at the six-armed figures batting away several hands at once. He couldn’t help but smile, tracking the energies of fast fingers and sharp claws with his spectral sight. Walking along the central path leading from the gate, his senses drifted from side to side, sweeping over the various activities taking place. Here near the relative safety of the temple, anyone could do as they liked without having to worry about immediate dangers like the Burning Legion or Maiev’s Wardens. Gleeful Illidari chased each other, jumping about when the impulse struck and tumbling in pointy-eared piles with their siblings. Few were related by blood, but all were bound by the ritual their Lord conducted and they all answered to his call. Illidan considered them family above the servants he had among the Broken, Shivarra and demons. There were hundreds, and he knew the name of every one. As he walked, he failed to notice those creeping up directly behind him, using their abilities to shroud themselves in darkness so they could get as close as possible. Of course, Illidan would not have minded but the small group of demon hunters on his trail wanted to sneak up and give him a good spooking. It was a well known challenge: startle the Master, and win his attention as a prize. Illidan didn’t quite understand it; he gladly gazed upon his children whenever required, but he supposed they had to make a game out of something. Quite a few were mad, many others childish and only the eldest mature enough to sit back with arms folded and eyelids narrowed. No matter how they acted, Illidan loved them all. So it was that when he noticed a limp demon hunter falling from the temple’s ramparts that he stepped back and unfurled his wings in a hurry to take off and save them. Just as another demon hunter zoomed past and caught the one who fell, Illidan felt something against his wings and heard several cries of surprise. He glanced back to sense six Illidari on the ground, struggling to get up. He’d whacked them all in their innocent faces with his vast wings, and his brow creased with concern.
“Are you all right?” he asked, turning around to properly attend to them. His wings were spread fully but now curled around his children, helping to prop them up. Someone was sniffling, a bruise forming on their cheek.
“Shhh, Alaaris.” Illidan cooed to the injured demon hunter and picked him up, supporting his back with one hand while the other tilted his head to one side. “Oh… I’m sorry. Let me fix that.” He was no healer, but knew the effects of the Fel could excite enough adrenaline to make all pain vanish in an instant. A soft green glow emanated from his fingertips as he brushed them against Alaaris’s pale face. Alaaris’s bright, flaming eye sockets seemed to pay close attention to what Illidan was doing, while the other Illidari, now standing upright, gazed at their Master adoringly. One of them was still sitting, and Illidan picked him up too after he was done with Alaaris.
“You mustn’t come so close behind me, little ones. Sometimes I cannot control my wings.” He stroked each of their heads, inspecting their horns to make sure there were no cracks or marks of strain. There was nothing more painful than a chipped horn and the headache that followed. The demon hunters made various noises like nesting pigeons in a basket of cotton wool, pleased and mostly unharmed. They nuzzled Illidan, tugging at the hanging part of his belt until he sat down and cuddled them. Illidan smiled, happy to embrace his children and spend some time with those who had sought him just for this.
And he thought to himself, ‘This is where I’m supposed to be.’