Zij’ilis paced across their homes floor, stroking a tusk in thought. The lavish building sat by the water, secluded but somehow central to the rest of their village. Though young, Zij, as he was affectionately known to his love, was the local witch doctor and greatly respected by the people, which was only aided by their awe at his youthful accomplishments and success against adversity.

He folded his arms behind his back and continued his pacing. This was trouble. Not since the days of his parent’s death had he been so worried.

Stopping, he straightened his back, let out a sigh and gazed out over the water, the sun approaching the horizon and reflecting off the ocean surface. How could he be so stupid? He ran a hand over his dark red hair and walked down the hall, gazing through the crack in the door of the master bedroom. Upon it lay Jez, his one and only love. She slept soundly now, though it took some work.

He eyed her slim little blue form, curled up in a ball in the middle of their bed. She was so cute, as cute as ever, and that appearance belied her current state.

His sweet little Jez, ever innocent and good intentioned, was pregnant.

Zij often thought in days gone by, of someday becoming a great priest. A noted high priest of the Zandalar. Oh how he would love that. But this pretty much ended his dreams.

Though accomplished and intelligent, his training was by no means complete. The problem needed taking care of, but he’d never learnt such things, and he would not toy with Jez’s life.

A close friend from childhood had told him of a witch doctor in a neighbouring village where he might not be known. He’d been pondering it ceaselessly since then, wondering how to do it best and finally he had no more time to consider it. If they didn’t act now, it might be too late and they’d be found out.

Stepping into the room slowly, Zij sat at the edge of the bed and laid a hand upon Jez’s side. She didn’t stir right away, and he nodded to himself, ‘I’ll let her get a bit more rest…’ he climbed atop the bed and cuddled up behind her, putting his arm around her tiny body.

Zij kissed her neck and hugged her to him, unable to keep his eyes closed or go to sleep. He waited.


It was black. The two lovers had set off many hours ago to reach their destination, and finally they had arrived in the dark, early morning hours. Hurrying Jez off the boat, Zij brought her to the hut of the tall, beefy witchdoctor, Jik’alor.

Though they’d been expected, he was slow to respond and let them in. That seemed to be the old fellow’s way, slow to respond and slow to think. But he knew his craft and Zij could pick up on the old troll’s wisdom.

Conversation was short and to the point, though Jik’alor eyed them both closely.

Zij couldn’t watch, even though things went quickly and seemingly painlessly. In no time Jez was back on her feet, and he embraced her tightly with tears in his eyes.

“Here’s your payment” he said to the aging witch doctor, holding a sack of gold coins out to him, which he promptly turned his palm up against.

“Keep it. I don’t want any part of it…” he turned away and retreated into the other room.


The trip back was slower, but seemed to last a fraction of the time it took to get there. The sad smile on his Zij’s face was from a weary happiness, though it’d be broken quickly.

The rising sun on the horizon silhouetted the villagers standing and staring at the approaching couple. Not knowing what else to do, he continued on, his heart sinking to the pits of his stomach as he patted Jez’s weary head.

“What you did was an abomination Zij’ilis, a mark of shame on you and the whole village” spoke the village elder. Jez would shout and plead on his behalf, but all was silence for him for some time. They had known, and let them carry out the act anyways.

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