Let Darkness Come

[Illidan Stormrage]

The shadow of Dracula's castle crept along the insides of its walls, retreating begrudgingly at the presence of lit torches. Illidan's cloven feet clopped on the solid floor, the sound returned to him tenfold from the wide hallway. The halls were almost absent, save for token guards who looked similar to the retainers that led him, one on either side of him. Illidan had a feeling that Dracula kept those of his own kind closest to him, but even they were more for show than any real protection.
 
A deep cold settled into the night elf demon's bones, a cold that sought him out the moment he stepped through the castle's arched doorway. The flames of the torches held in black iron braziers,  sporadically lining the hallway, broke the chill as his skin bathed in their faint orange light, but it claimed him again once out of their range.
 
Even with his blunted magical sense, he knew a sinister energy radiated from within the inner sanctum of the castle. It hung in the darkness and mixed with the silence, on the edge of perceptibility. Illidan clenched his jaw. Perhaps Milton hadn't understated the strength of Count Dracula after all. That both strengthened his resolve and made him instantly more cautious.
 
The two guides stopped before a single wooden door. They both gestured to it, mouths sealed, eyes sharp. Illidan took the cue and pushed it open.
 
The room beyond had a lot in common with his solemn trek through the castle. Shadows hung on the walls like priceless tapestries, with even less braziers present to scare them away. Stained glass windows perched high on the walls let in the mild, ever-present gloom from outside. At the far end of the room, a regal throne sat upon a raised dais, a dark figure nestled within, watching with malicious eyes.
 
Those blood red irises flitted to either side of Illidan, and his two escorts turned without sound and skulked out of the room. The night elf demon watched a pile of black ooze descend from the dais, that penetrating gaze locked onto him. The feeble fires shed the obliqueness from the ooze, revealing a long, draping cape. A human glided towards him, ostensibly Count Dracula, though he possessed more confidence and poise than Illidan was accustomed to seeing in his kind. Black, slick hair covered his head, his face pale and white as if lacking blood.
 
While tall, Illidan's demon form looked down on him. Nevertheless, Count Dracula's stature, proud and regal, almost put the night elf demon on the back foot.
 
"You have come to join my army." A statement, not a question.
 
Illidan swallowed. The chill that draped over his skin intensified as the lord of the keep stopped a few feet from him. "Yes."
 
Those blood red eyes travelled up and down Illidan's length. "You have brought the tributes. You are not a secondary, then, I take it. Feel free to correct me."
 
Illidan's brow furrowed. Milton had mentioned something about secondaries and ... primes during their time together. He didn't know which he belonged to, but he had an uneasy feeling that Dracula didn't take correction well.
 
"I am unsure. How can I determine which I am?"
 
Dracula craned his neck up to look into Illidan's face, but the night elf demon felt as if this dark lord dwarfed him in all other aspects. "Use omnilium. Summon something from your memories."
 
Omnilium. The word triggered the memory of Omni once more. He remembered the glowing child presenting a rainbow hued orb, and somehow understanding the limitless possibilities that swirled in its currents.
 
Illidan closed his eyes and focused on the mental image of that orb. Slowly but surely, a new magic coaxed free of his body, flowing through and out of him. His memories ... there was plenty of fodder to choose from. A strange fancy flung him back ten thousand years ago, to the days when Suramar was besieged by the Burning Legion. He recalled the first creature to ever truly strike fear into his heart. Short, clawed legs, long snout crammed with needle teeth, black tendrils that writhed from its shoulders, hungry mouths on their tips ...
 
Illidan returned to the present. A great fatigue weighed on his shoulders, as if he had expended himself in battle. Count Dracula gazed at him from his throne. When had he walked back there? How long had Illidan been retracing his past?
 
Count Dracula stood and moved over the floor as if floating, his feet hidden by his cloak. "You are a prime." His distinctive eyes shot to the ground beside him. "What do you call this thing?"
 
Illidan followed his gaze. Beside him stood the very creature he had pictured in his head; a felhunter. Dog-like demons with a ravenous thirst for magic. They were brilliant for killing mages, since their wormy tendrils literally ate arcane energy. Illidan could never forget the first time he found a victim of the beast's hunger; skin shrivelled and paper-thin, eyes grey and sunken, a husk of what they were in life.
 
"A felhunter. Demons breed specifically for killing those that wield magic."
 
The felhunter stuck its pointed maw in the air and sniffed. It bared its teeth and its tendrils flailed. No doubt it had caught the scent of the Count. Its claws scraped on the floor as it charged for the dark lord, teeth snapping.
 
Illidan's chest tightened. This didn't bode well. From Dracula's point of view, it could easily be mistaken for an attempt on his life. The night elf demon raised an arm, gathering telekinetic magic to bear, and -
 
Count Dracula mirrored his action, and the felhunter stopped mid-stride. The creature yelped and whined as an invisible force compressed its body. Bones snapped and its rough hide tore, foul liquids seeping free. The felhunter gave a final shudder and fell still.
 
Illidan had to avert a disaster here. "Count Dracula, -"
 
"No need for an explanation," he said, so strangely calm and still that Illidan wondered if he felt emotion at all. "You told me what the beast was. I knew it might find me appetising. Besides, I was in no true danger."
 
He disposed of the felhunter so simply, with a mere flick of his wrist. If Dracula wanted, Illidan would crumple in on himself just like the demon had done.
 
"But be warned. I don't take attempts on my life lightly." A slight rise in his tone. "Do you understand me?"
 
"Yes, Count Dracula, I-"
 
"Words are cheap, young ...?"
 
"Illidan, lord. Illidan Stormrage." Leaders love being called lord.
 
"Illidan." Dracula's gaze locked onto his, eyes flaring. "I can tell you that I wield great power. You can hear from my army that I am to be feared, and obeyed without question. But from my minions, even me, words are little than second-hand information. To truly understand, in a profound and intimate way, why you will obey me, and why you will fall if you cross me ..."
 
A thunderous boom rippled through the air from nowhere and collided into Illidan, knocking him to the floor. His bones resonated with the force, jolting his muscles and momentarily paralysing him. Moments later, he climbed back to his feet, and noted he had toes again. His stomach clenched as he tried to flap wings that had disappeared. His eyes now level with Count Dracula, he knew what he did. The dark lord was so powerful, he knocked him out of his demon form with almost no effort at all.
 
Count Dracula stepped closer, his breath washing over Illidan's face. " ... you have to experience it."
 
The dark lord's mouth split open, revealing dagger like canine teeth, and he plunged them into Illidan's neck. A searing pain spread through his body, and when he went to scream, darkness swallowed him whole.