Her mind was too muddled to take note of the escape from Outlands. Feebly, she batted her hands against the claws that held her. The Nathrezim paid no attention. Finally, after what seemed like days of flying, she was deposited in a damp cell and left, momentarily forgotten.
Though aware that time was relative, that no doubt only hours had passed, Idella lay in a confused daze. It’s the spell, the rational part of her mind told herself. But it was overrun by a mental fog and rising panic. As she slowly became aware of her surroundings, the clearer she could hear the screams. Desperation, begging, or simply sobs, others were caged beside her. Many wailed in their misery, yet no single whip fell. None were struck. Left untouched, instead the Nathrezim sat before them, separated by the bars of the cages, their toothy grins a mockery of a warm smile. They spoke. Simply, they spoke, prodding, listening for the weaknesses to pry and nestle beneath.
Finally coming to, Idella listened at a distance to a demon conversing with a nearby Stormwind guardsman. From his shabby clothing and greasy appearance, the man no doubt had been holed up for weeks. Suddenly, in the midst of their conversation, the man sobbed with his head in his hands. The young warlock couldn’t make out the words, only the torment of a broken man. The Nathrezim smiled and reached out a clawed hand. The man took it. The bars of the cage immediately opened and with an arm splayed across the guardsman’s shoulders, the demon led him away. Minutes later, the cell was filled again with another fresh soldier, the door closing shut.
Idella watched for hours, observing as one would a show or book, attempting to keep her own panic from rising. It was her secret procrastination, a distraction to keep herself from sobbing. Time and again, the Nathrezim followed the same pattern: Gifting food, speaking almost as if in kindness, prying for any information the prisoners could give, and then to those that took their hand, led them away. They were always led through the same door. She could hear nothing within. But each time someone disappeared with a demon and the door closed, an identical pattern of flashing green light flickered in the space between the door and floor.
Finally, a demon approached her. It followed the same steps as the others, approaching her with a smile. Now able to observe up close, she spied the uneven fangs poking from his split lips. It came with a plate of food, slipping in the space beneath the bars. It spoke Common, warm, almost inviting. Melodious.
“You must be hungry. Eat all you wish, little girl. You will not starve here if you do not wish to.”
Glancing towards her other compatriots, some stooped forward, their caved stomachs telltale signs of starvation. These were the ones who refused the meals. Deep down, Idella felt the pin prick of fear. Starvation was a painful, prolonged way to die. Still, she shook her head, the curls of her hair hiding her face.
“I can bring you something else if you wish, little girl,” the demon smoothly offered. His voice matched the perfect warm tone, the precise notes it needed to. But it only made Idella cringe more. She shook her head again, refusing to look him in the eye. A single tear ran down her cheek and wetted the folds of her dress. Though she could not see it, she could feel the creature smile.
Finally, it withdrew, leaving the plate in her cell. “I will bring you something you like next time. You only need to tell me. Whatever you wish is at your fingertips, little girl.” It paused, then licked its lips. “Anything you wish.” It left.
Its words felt like a lash. She knew what its offer meant. Retreating to the corner of her cage, Idella brought her knees to her chest. She watched the others caged as she was. Men, women, far older, far more experienced, caged for weeks on end, breaking down, the Nathrezim taking them under their wing, leading them through the dark door with green flashes of light. It was the only way out other than where the demons came.
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