Returned

I am at home.  

What a relief it is to write those words with a clear mind.  Indeed, I am more than exhausted.  I am weary and aching down to my bones, leaning on my staff much more often than not, on the rare occasion that Krastos allows me on my feet.

I cannot fathom how it happened that I was gone for three months.

Lena leaned back in the bed with her brand new journal, the crisp pages urging her to write.  For a week now, she had been back, under the watchful eye of Shadows.  Krastos had been eager to bring her home right away, but Vitaska, one of the order's oldest and most learned healers, insisted she stay in Ironforge at least for a few days.

Vitaska had cleared me to go home with Krastos a few nights ago.  He warned me, however, to take it easy while we tried to fit together what happened.  I know I am stubborn and eager to get back to work, but even I realize what shape I am in.  

Physically, I seem to be healing at a rate that appeases Taska, or he would not have sent me home.  I do not remember the trip to Ironforge, and in fact, my memory seems very garbled from my time in the mountains.  I was apparently quite dehydrated, very malnourished, and was unconscious, when they had found me.  There was a rift that lead into the Twisting Nether.  

No one knows how long I spent within it.  

The Nether is not meant for casual play.  It is merely a means for manipulating space and time in such a way to allow beings to traverse without lengthy travel or lingering effects.  I shall have to do research on the effects of a long term exposure to the Nether.  

Indeed, opening a portal that will lead a person or group of persons or even non-sentient objects to another location should be a simple operation.  One only needs concentration and a basic understanding of the laws of physics as we know them - and a healthy does of being willing to break those laws.  It is, truly, a magical intervention that does occasionally run the risk of backfiring.  

I cannot imagine what must have happened on the peak of Neverest for me to call open a portal - let alone one that would leave a rift.

Even so, I am overjoyed that it did - or Shadows may never have found me. 

She lowered her pen between the pages, closing the journal around it and rubbed at her face.  Her cheekbones were still seeming to poke out from her face.  She was shocked when Vitaska had finally handed her a mirror.  She was gaunt, with large dark circles under her eyes.  No wonder Krastos had looked so scared when she awoke in Ironforge.

A small crash followed by a stream of uncreative profanities emanated from direction of the kitchen of their Wetlands home, catching her attention.  "Krastos?"  she called, lightly inquiring.  "Everything alright down there?"  She sank back against the multitude of pillows he had brought home to ensure her comfort, unsure if intervening would be helpful.  Lena could hear him muttering, clanging around some more, and then a much louder, "NO!  I didn't say that! NO!"  followed by another crash.

Lena sighed and chuckled to herself, shifting and trying to get comfortable.  He'd brought out the elementals to help with the housework while she was recovering.  They must be rebelling, she thought.

Just as she was preparing to curl up in the bed for yet another nap, a medium sized fire elemental glided into the room, holding a plate, piled high with food, keeping it quite warm.  She laughed, grinning up at Krastos, who followed closely behind, holding a tray to place across her lap.  "I know you probably need more sleep, but you need to eat something, too," he said gruffly.  She could see the smile in his eyes, though, knowing he was happy to have her home, safe, with him.

As he arranged her plate and tray, dismissing the elemental, she patted the bed beside her, offering a forkful of the no doubt partially edible food he'd prepared.  "And you've surely had a long day keeping those creatures in order, haven't you?"  Kras snorted and dug in to her food with his own fork, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her snug against him as they ate quietly.

Her head was drooping by the time they were finished, and he carefully extracted the tray and sharp objects from the bed, shifting so they could lay down.  She nestled in her favorite spot on his chest, and quickly dropped off while he stroked her hair.  There were still many questions to answer, but something she had said the night before had stuck with him.  "Are we supposed to feel this old?" she had queried, her voice still small and weak.  They were both nearly 25,000 years old.  It was unfathomable to most of the other races.  But the draenei still carried on, working and living at the same rate they had for millennia.    Krastos was struck with a discordant, terrible thought - that someday, their so-called eternal lives might end.  Worse than that, they might fall prey to the very aging and deterioration that other races gave in to so easily.  That she might not be able to wield the arcane, he unable to speak to the elements, neither of them able to lift a sword or staff to go to war to protect their people.

He pulled her hair up from her neck and slid a finger along the elementium collar with a sad smile.  Their time apart was a speck in their lifetime, but it was meaningful, for myriad reasons.