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WHO: Terra, Illidan
WHERE: THE CITY
WHEN: Around 2 am, 5/7. So, before and ~*~after~*~ Alex's warehouse solo rave.
WARNINGS: Do not eat, drink, or smoke this log.
WHAT: Some people get affected by magic. Some people don't. This is one such occasion.
WORDS: yes

It had been... a strange week, to be sure. The boggling magic that was the "Renaissance Faire" had long since dissipated, but it hadn't gone without residue. Things had been uncomfortably strained between Terra and Zelgadis, matters more complicated than ever. True, Terra thought to herself to the sound of her quiet footfalls, things were often complicated in Terra's life, especially where he was concerned, but it was a great deal more pronounced when they shared an apartment. It certainly didn't make it any easier to sort out her own mess of a life.

So it was well, well past midnight, and Terra needed space enough to think. She forewent the roof this time, instead taking a spring night stroll like more normal people.

Well, like normal people would have done six hours ago.

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Especially not to the pretty human girl who may be his girlfriend (or not). Terra shook her head, a hand coming to her temple, disguised in combing through her hair.

"I don't know how to explain it... Every form of magic feels differently to me. There's just something about it that seems..." Her other hand seemed to grasp at some invisible chain hanging in front of her chest, but her expression was one of concentration, corners of her eyes tight.

He was confused, and curious. Sure, it felt off, but not ill-inducing. Just... off. Wild. Chaotic.

"Seems what?"

"There aren't words to describe it. It's like... describing the color of something with sound."

Here, finally, Terra stopped in her tracks, still grasping at something that wasn't there, her eyes closing for concentration. It was a dangerous action for the scenario, or would be were Terra another person, but what anxiety she felt had nothing to do with the late hour. Or, for once, her company.

She stood there, almost as though hanging in place, while her senses tried to pick out that distant Well, and what lingering shades of it the true Illidan had dragged this way. It was difficult for her to explain the causes, but even as far away as they were, her lips parted so she could breathe in behind hard teeth. As if it were an olfactory offense, yet having no scent.

"I feel... a sort of dread about it." There was a strain to her expression, her hand grasping phantoms. "Like... coming upon a tree with a rotted base. Not rotten, but... knowing that it will fall, not knowing when. And yet... it's not like that at all."

Her hand dropped and Terra exhaled like a morning wind, her shoulders sagging and her head shaking from side to side. "I'm sorry. I don't know how to explain it. Maybe it's... only that way to me."

He listened, stopping at the description, his mouth opening, and then closing. "A tree? A rotting tree? That doesn't make sense," he admitted. "How can something not rot, but be rotten?"

He shook his head, a soft sigh escaping him in frustration and annoyance. "What do I feel like," he asked, almost curious. "I've never known someone with a relationship with magic like you."

"It's not the rot that's important, it's--" she tried explaining, but shook her head at that. She sighed too, hoping they could dismiss the topic. While she wanted to learn more about the Well, she didn't much like talking about it herself -- or opening herself to feeling it, even as indirectly as this.

The change of focus was welcome. "You? Okay." The easiest thing was how much difference there lay in the Illidan of now and the tattooed, eyeless Illidan she had known for ages. Those things, she thought, would mean little. Taking another breath and closing her eyes, she focused again on her most unusual of senses.

"Powerful," she said immediately, but by both her tone and the rise and fall of one shoulder, it came with the weight of stating a trait so obvious she just needed to get it out of the way. "There's a naturalness to it... woodsy, earthen. Not quite like summer, but..."

As she spoke, though her concentration was much the same as before, her expression was very different from her analysis of the well. Her face was unmarked by stress, eyebrows level; her lids and lashes moved only with the movement of her hidden eyes. In stance and voice, she seemed much more relaxed.

"There's a light to it, but not like sunlight. More like... starlight?" She paused. " 'Night elf' is accurate, then..." One of the hands hanging loose at her side rose; slim, pale fingers plucked at the air like for strings of a harp.

What was strangest to her then was, when put to words, how similar-sounding this Illidan's power was to Zelgadis's. In sensation they were really nothing alike, but Terra simply didn't know if there were words that could describe the differences.

(And what did it say, that this Illidan was more like Zelgadis, while the older, far more destructive-feeling one resonated more closely to Terra's power? Her mouth twitched into the split second of a frown before smoothing over.)

"And fire. A hot flame, almost wild... but what feeds it, I don't know. It's a strange coexistence."

Finally Terra blinked her eyes open, gaze slipping up to Illidan's face for his reaction.

He listened, and watched her expressions. He was curious, and her description almost made his chest swell with pride as he listened. Her motions were watched closely by the full golden eyes, and by the time she was almost plucking at the air, he felt a bubble of anxiety swell in his stomach, along with his pride. He liked the way his magic felt, the way it echoed when she described it.

"Wow, you can tell all of that? I feel like that?" he was almost left speechless. "It sounds like me, but..." he trailed off.

"I don't know, I've always heard that I had a destiny, and I knew I had power but not that much, you make it sound like I could be greater than my queen herself, and that's not possible!"

But at the same time...all had spoken of his destiny, the golden eyes and what they meant. From a young age, he'd heard it. Illidan would do great things, Illidan would become something more than the low-born elf he'd been. Yet he had no patience for it. His brother and he had been trying druidism for some time, an unknown magic under the tutelage of a Demi-God, yet he felt nothing. What use was it? Yet he continued to try, although his patience was wearing thin.

It was strange, how much easier it was to talk to this version of Illidan. He wasn't as self-aggrandizing, despite mentioning more than once that great destiny of his.

She looked away once more, resuming the walk. All the restaurants seemed closed, which wasn't too surprising, but it was almost like a ghost town.

"I didn't mean to... but I don't know how powerful you are, compared to your people. I can only compare to what I know... and I've met the older you." The reminder was almost kind. "I can feel the difference, but... there's some things that don't change."

His face lit up a bit, and he walked with his arms clasped behind his back in silence for a moment. He didn't know why, but the way he spoke, there was something in her voice about him being older.

He didn't know what it was, but it wasn't... he didn't think it was bad. "Don't change? Then perhaps my potential is there! I was beginning to think..." he trailed off.

"That's not important! What about you? Your magic, what's it like? It must be different, if you feel magic."

"Me?" she asked, as though startled. Her expression and stance calmed momentarily, and her gaze drifted skyward. There were almost no stars to be seen, as per usual, but there were no clouds, either. Simply a strange, too cold for fire orangish haze obscuring the dark. "Uhm... it's more... contained? I can't feel it the same way. There's... a sense of 'this magic is nothing like mine,' or 'this is similar to me.' I don't know how to pin it down."

Illidan's own words came back to her then, and for a moment she looked wounded. "But I've heard... it's deceiving."

"Decieving?" he asked, looking over at her. "There's no way! You're too nice to--"

He stopped, thinking for a moment, trying to think of a way. He'd read about ways to see magic. To transcend the physical realm temporarily...

"Can I try something? I've never done it before, but I'm curious. Will you let me hold your hand? Be my anchor for a moment?"

As was her usual reaction, Terra's eyelids fluttered for her surprise. Were it the elder Illidan, she would try to make her excuses to avoid such a thing (as she was, with reason, afraid he might simply use that as a way to funnel off her power for his own use). This Illidan, however...

Cautiously, Terra lifted her right hand in offering, unsure what he intended.

He smiled, and took it. When their hands touched, he felt a familiar zing of power flutter through him. The same as being touched by someone wearing thick fur, a sharp jolt of thunder through him. "Just a moment," he muttered, and his grip tightened, only slightly.

His gold eyes closed, and his eyebrows lifted in pure concentration. Instinctively, he reached out, and touched the Well, an almost slimy, foreboding sensation passed over him. Familiar, something about it... This wasn't the time now. He began to clear his mind, his thoughts then controlled to place the order of the spell in place. One, after another. Beach piece, and then it finished. A wicked rush flooded him, and he felt the haze of the invisibility spell come over him, and then he shifted his plane of being, mentally. That's what Terra's handhold was for. He opened his eyes, and gasped, soft and surprised.

Deceiving...was not the word he would have chosen, but it was apt. Before him was the shadow of the pretty girl, a soft glow all around her. It extended for some time, large and powerful, but behind that... In the center of herself was almost like a plug, holding something else. If he had the experience, or perhaps if he hadn't lost his magic sight, he would have been able to see what lay beyond it. He wanted to know, and he felt his soul shudder with curiosity, and something he did not recognize.

He was about to try, to attempt to see the next plane when there was a mental tug, and he felt his body and soul coalesce together, but the sight of light and power was burned into his eyes.

"Wow."

She did not know precisely what it was he did, but a strange sort of shiver rolled up her spine in the process; perhaps she was dreading something unpleasant, for she had her eyes braced closed and her breath held tight in her lungs.

When he spoke, her eyes peered warily open, her attention flicking back up to his face. (She still was not used to seeing eyes set there.) There was a sort of anxiety to her expression then, wanting to know what he'd done, but almost afraid of the answer.

"Your magic," he began, and his hand tightened around hers. Did she mind? He wasn't pulling away, his feet uncertain beneath his body. "I can see why someone would say what they did, but it's not the right word," he explained. He struggled to find the right phrase, finally centering on one, and his lip quirked.

"It's more like duality," he offered. His older self had seen this as well, but in his eternal attempts to manipulate those around him...deceiving certainly sounded more demeaning to Terra's mental well-being. "But even without what's on the other planes," yes, plural. "You glow. Really, really brightly."

The strange thing was that it was not even the elder Illidan alone that reinforced such notions in her; repeatedly in this world, those who saw her other side, as true as the one standing here now, were quick to call her monster.

After enough repetitions, she'd accepted the label as truth. It was a great deal harder for it to be stripped away again by reassurances or friendly words.

When the younger spoke, Terra bowed her head to hide her expression. "Yes... that's true," she said, her voice quiet. Of course duality made perfect sense. She was caught between two peoples, two worlds, and belonged to none.

"But... glow?" That seemed weird. Despite what she was, everyone she met had stronger, more versatile magics than she, and even then there weren't many of them she'd describe as strongly as that.

Edited 2011-05-08 09:14 (UTC)

He shrugged. "Magic, when you see it with sight like that, it's different than most people think," he explained. Indeed, his own magic sight he would regain eventually would be the same as this. "When you shift planes, and become invisible, you travel the magical one, and so you see only magic. I guess you could say it was a glow, but it was more like an aura," he explained. "If I saw someone evil, but powerful, I would see the power, but it wouldn't be bright. It would look different."

He felt a shame come over him, and the now purple skin that the older Illidan had been unable to possess in this realm tinted slightly pink.

It wasn't precisely the flush that did it, but something about the way he spoke made Terra's inner, contrary thoughts chime in with a harsh why are you giving him so much information? It continued on with Zelgadis's warnings about Illidan; that he consumed magic, that he never did anything for anyone else unless he could get something out of it, that he was nothing short of exactly the wrong kind of people anyone should associate, but especially Terra.

Chastised by memory, Terra took it--and Illidan's expression--as cue to pull her hand away, wrapping warm fingers around the heavy heirloom pendant at her throat. Where her thoughts weren't berating her, they were trying to make sense of what this Illidan claimed to see.

"The brightness..." she started, words tentative. "That's how you can judge how... good a person is?"

He almost looked dejected when she pulled away, but he covered it with a slightly superior look, like he totally knew what he was talking about. Honestly, he was spewing assumptions out of his rear-end.

"Not exactly?" he paused, trying to think. "See, a good person can do bad things, and a bad person can do great things. It's more about how the nature of the person is. You can see what they are, not something like good and evil, that doesn't mean much," he shrugged. "My people are eternal, we don't judge on things like that. It's about what you do, how you affect the world in the long-run that shows in your aura. A terrible person could do something great, and completely change the course of history forever, and his aura reflects those actions."

It wasn't the easiest thing to wrap her head around -- probably because Illidan himself didn't even understand what he was talking about -- and Terra tilted her head a little for curiosity.

"What you saw... what does it mean?"

"It means that you've had impact. Good impact, on many things," he explained. "It's a good thing!"

Considering the impression Terra must have given Illidan by this point, her reaction to that sort of statement was probably not one he would have expected. There was surprise to her face, true, but coloring that was the quiet pulls of denial, and disbelief. Somehow, she just couldn't accept that her existence had left a positive mark, no matter how much good she tried to accomplish.

She wasn't even sure how to reply to that.

He paused, and shook his head. "It's not important, anyway! I'm not very old, so I might not know what I'm talking about, yet."

He flashed her a self-depreciating smile. "So! Food?"

"Yeah. It's weird," she said, attention redirected and the previous topic gratefully dropped. "The City's much more lively than this... even this late..."

Almost lazily she gestured to a nearby strip of buildings. "These are all restaurants, but there's... nobody going in or out. No music... and I can't smell anything being cooked."

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