Darkness beneath Mu'sha. Part One.

A glint of green broke the stifling dark. The eyes of the Bull swung open, faced suddenly with a foreboding haze of emptiness. The mind raced, a surge of panic rose, causing his neck to dry, his mind to numb.
Breath.
He sucked the air in, cheeks expanding like small balloons. Release.
Again.
He closed his eyes. The panic faded. Deeper breaths. Relax.
What had caused so much disturbance?
His eyes opened, a sense of frustration made his gut tighten. Hellvern had rarely been disturbed during these sessions. Something in the air was taking insult in him trying tonight. "Why?" he whispered.
The flash of green tore through the blinding midnight blue. He rose, unable to identify the flicker of light, darting across the Barrens. A swift breeze brushed away the stagnating calm air, refreshing it with the scent of moist leaves, wild flowers and the pungent echo of rotting vegetation that clung to the back of the mouth. The taste of Ashenvale.
His mind wandered a moment as he approached the cause of the days sudden calamity, to the forest; dark shapes of trees, packed sharply together. A low, intense hum, alien glows and lights.
Hellvern turned back to the shining strand of green.
His axe.
Peeking out from underneath a dusty leather cover came the blade of his axe, one of the twin blades he was awarded to by an Orc, whose name and memory were lost to the confines of the Outland.
Hellvern knelt, his bulks shadow devouring the glow. His eyes narrowed, moving back to see where the source of the light came. The eye of Mu'sha, a crescent moon, like the drunken eye of a slumbering giant, glimpsed at the weapon and the Black Bull.
Hellvern stared at the moon, something about it captivated him.
It was alone, surrounded by an endless sea of dark, all it had for company was the world below and its inhabitants. Close, but so far away, the feeling that there was no similarities between them though, made the distances far, far greater.
The more he gazed into the flicker of light of that otherworldly sphere, the more he felt strangely enchanting stare. The Bulls mind wandered to thoughts of friends and enemies, then something overcame him, his legs began to feel weak.
The moon blinked.
In an instant the crescent became a full, the giant eye in the sky had come awake, and it watched the Bull.
Hellvern blinked, trying to break of the daydream he felt clutching his very mind with its claw like fingers. But the moon still watched him, the cold light, the mysterious shine painting his fur grey.
It blinked again, but when the blue lid flew away revealing the eye once again, it bore a narrow pupil, rapidly expanding across the cratered surface which grew smooth in its wake.
The Black Bull withdrew, unable to turn away. A hissing, wheezing voice hacked through the trance.
'Fear'
His eyes closed shut, collapsing to his knees, as his mind reeled in confusion, the acute smell of burning wood confronted his nostrils, the sounds of battle, ringing in his ears...

To be continued...