Music: BETWEEN WORLDS by Roger Subirana

Distant voices penetrated the silence pulling me towards consciousness. I tried to resist, wishing myself back to sleep. But, the rise to wakefulness continued.

At first, I just listened to the voices. They drifted through a window somewhere to my right;  incomprehensible chatter and soft laughter. It was calming almost like a lullaby, the effect of which enticed me to sleep more. But other sounds soon stirred me from the enchantment. 

Trundling cats - wooden wheels were rolling over paved streets; vendors were spouting their wares, touting for business. Horses whinnying, birds were singing, children calling after their friends to "Wait up!" 

It was morning.

They were familiar, welcome sounds, and although I had recently heard them the past few days, their resonance seemed newer, crisper, more precise. I was hearing them again as a man. I sighed, content - I was home.

Shadows flitted beyond my closed lids, making me flinch. My eyes peeled open. They took a few moments to focus entirely, but, soon, my surroundings became clear.

Shifting slightly, I was awarded aches and pains, particularly on my left side.  I gingerly lifted my arm. It ached, especially around my armpit and shoulder, but it wasn't as severe as I thought it would be. 

I fixated on my hands, happy to see them instead of primary feathers. I could see all the creases at the joints, lines on my palms and at my wrists. Small cuts and bruises were healing nicely, although still evident. 

My fingernails; some chipped, with traces of dirt underneath were still fairly well-manicured, considering. I marvelled at them, turning my hands back and forth as if I were seeing them for the first time.

I licked my lips; they were dry, then my tongue brushed against enamel. I grinned. I had almost forgotten what it was like to have teeth. 

My fingers traced over my face; brow, temples, eyes, nose, mouth, cheeks and chin. Without a mirror, it was hard to gauge how I looked, but I certainly thought my face was thinner. By the rough prickle against my palms, it also seemed several days stubble had grown. I needed a shave, but it could wait for now.

I looked down and could make out my legs beneath the bedding. An incomputable wave of euphoria washed over me; I was human, whole. 

Then, a moment's panic set in. I grabbed the edge of the sheet and lifted it, revealing my lower half. I raised my head just enough to look at my body. 

I'd lost weight, but that was not what concerned me. I reached down with my right hand and felt between my legs. Seconds later, I sighed with relief. Everything was intact.

The absurdity of my fretfulness dawned on me, and I chuckled as I withdrew my hand and let the sheet and blanket settle around me again.

I sighed and turned to look at my surroundings. The familiarity of Sarah's and my bed-chamber was comforting. The decor was unique - the fashions and styles influenced (so she said) by Sarah's world and adapted to suit our home. 

I studied the dresser with its large mirror. Sarah's little ornate jars of cosmetics, on a filigree tray, sat next to her favoured scents and hairbrush. 

I visualised her brushing her hair methodically - sweeping it over, flicking it back and brushing some more. She would carry out that ritual every evening, and she would watch me in the mirror while I lay, waiting for her to join me. I smiled. That memory warmed me - confirmed by certain stirrings beneath the bedsheet. 

To suppress such thoughts, I considered all which had happened over the last few - hours? Days? I had no idea how long I'd slept, but that was not important. The main thing was I had returned home and was once more my true self - Archmage Khadgar.

My recollection of the transformation itself was, strangely enough, a little fuzzy. 

I vaguely remembered a Night Elf - and the fact I knew him not. He bore the unique build, markings and features of the race, but his eyes! They were remarkable - amber - extremely rare. 

I could not dispel my disappointment that Illidan had not been the one to perform the magic. Perhaps once he'd studied the secret script, he'd realised he couldn't complete the spell. I preferred to think that way, as opposed to him refusing to help me - although, in all honesty, I could not blame him if that was the case. 

My mind mulled it over for a few moments more. I had no doubt answers would be forth-coming in due time.

On a similar front, I had answers of my own to provide. No doubt Sarah would demand to know why I had not told her my plan. Well, things had been complicated, and time had not been our friend. Not that I believed that an adequate answer, but it was all I had to offer.

My fingers kneaded the soft blanket, and I inhaled deeply. 

Sarah's perfume, honeysuckle and wild lotus permeated the air. Although I'd recognised it instantly, I still perceived it as something new - exciting, intoxicating, exotic. I relished the scent.

Movement by the window caught my attention. The morning breeze was stirring the delicate voiles, making them rise and fall as they rippled in the room. 

The gossamer drapes were lightly hovering over a human shape seated in the small armchair.  How had I not noticed before now?

There, curled up with a blanket draped over, was my Sarah. 

The voiles drifted back in place, and I saw her face, framed by her dark auburn hair, the odd strand having fallen over her cheek. I languished noting the curve of her brow, slightly upturned nose, full lips, the fall and rise of her breasts as she breathed softly. 

I felt such overwhelming joy seeing her there as if she had drifted to sleep while watching over me - how I longed for her.

I attempted to sit up, but the pain in my shoulder made me call out. I fell back onto the pillows, hoping I had not disturbed Sarah. 

I looked over, and I stilled as her eyes fixed on mine.