Ankyra Sound it's easier than waiting around to die

her intuition was right – rage had found a place inside of his bones and had nestled there ever since the day he had found their father mangled on the shores of the lake. rationality took no place there; he felt as though he had needed someone to blame for the tragedy, and so he had. ephraim was to blame. he festered inside of this idea until it had started to rot in his mind. illidan did not need to share it. he simply knew that it was there, and that it was the only thing that could explain why such terrible things had happened to their family.

“it was him,” the ghost remarked without even a fraction of hesitation in his voice. his eyes darted toward the dark girl and he frowned. “i made sure that i'd never forget his face.” to some, that might have been a sweet comment – a boy recalling the image of his brother after their separation. in that moment, it was obvious that he did not speak of their brother with fondness. it had been spite and resentment that had forced him to keep the image of ephraim burning in the back of his mind.

“why?” why do you care about the boy who made a home with the enemy? the boy who killed our father...