Journal Entry #337
"The heat. It should have seared my flesh and bone; I felt uncannily cold as I stood within the smoldering embrace, yet I felt no pain. Not physically, in any case. I was denied the flame's kiss, no matter who badly I wanted to be consumed. The inferno roared around me, no more than a whisper compared to the screams of agony overwhelming me. It was not my voice that tore from my throat, but the voices of those damned to ash, forever burned into the husk of the once magnificent world tree. What was once wholesome and beautiful, was now engulfed in chaos. Pleas of helplessness fell on deafened ears, only to fade as nerves died and light faded away. All around me, no matter which direction I turn, ruin was all I witnessed. Blackened corpses that crumbled from the waves of heat that was emitted all around, littered the forest floor. Everything was consumed. As the last portals closed within the Temple of Elune, the tree was abandoned to it's inescapable fate. I stood there, alone as the horrific cries died away leaving only the crackle of all-consuming fire. "That is the scene I witness every time I close my eyes for the barest of moments. No matter how hard I try to barricade my sanity from it, it's gnarled claws sink in and remind me without relent. I've hardly rested since the burning of Teldrassil. Even though I was not born within it's branches, my heart aches and bleeds for my people. In my years, I have only been blessed with a handful of opportunities to visit the forests atop the world tree. I will cherish them for the rest of my days, because never again will I be granted the honor, cannot be granted the honor, to walk among the foliage within Teldrassil's grand embrace.
"When I first heard about what had transpired, I lost control and assaulted one of cherished companions. He ensures me that he does not take it personally, perhaps in some attempt to consul me. I don't need his pity, or anyone else's. I was not present. Still... I was angry, blinded by overwhelming sorrow and horror over the unforgivable acts inflicted upon my people. ... How many of us are left? Not many. "Sylvanas has made certain of that." "Every time I hear that cursed Windrunner's name, the more foul it becomes, and inspires bitter bile to coat my tongue. There is no excuse for the atrocity she has committed against my people, against Azeroth. She is a tyrant, a demon. A soulless bitch who is consumed by her hatred for life itself. Anyone who believes in her is a fool, a misguided fool who believes in some grand notion that his or her warchief is acting with any sense of nobility-- with any sense of reason. The blood soaked shores of northwest Kalimdor are a testament to that fact. "Wiser individuals than I are preparing for battle, while I sit here seething with rage while being plagued with nightmares. I fear I am a coward, a fool myself for my inability to remain rational. I have the urge to march on the ruins of Lordareon and put an end to the Banshee Queen, myself. "What makes me feel even worse is that I looked upon my comrades today with disgust, while they looked back at me with pity. They are Horde, whether or not they follow Sylvanas or not. Their people are bound by alliances with her. Each time initially, I see the race allied under the scarlet banner and not the individual. How am I so vexed when I wasn't even there?! "Without my allies and support, I would probably be dead upon the surface above the Undercity, defeated by my ignorance and arrogance. Had it not been for those within the Accords inner-workings, those who share my pain, I would be dead and no use to anyone. "Astranaar. "Teldrassil's pyre reopened wounds I thought were sealed for all eternity. How wrong I was. It is the Horde that had assaulted Astranaar in the wake of the Cataclysm. And, it is the Horde that slaughtered every man, woman, and child within the place of my birth. Old wounds have been reopened and I feel them festering, burning as if salt had been applied directly. My heart bleeds for vengeance. I had resisted then, after Deathwing's insanity. I do not believe I am capable of repeating the sentiment now. "My judgment is clouded. I see red with each breath I take, blurring the frame of my vision. Adrenaline courses through my veins and relentlessly I strive for a moment of peace, no matter who much I am denied it. "Is it even obtainable now? Is it a child's tale, never to be grasped? "I don't know. "It seems hopeless to even consider the possibility. Not with how raw our wounds are. Better folk than I have already initiated stratagems of retaliation against Sylvanas, directly and otherwise. Her own people conspire against her. How long does she have at the helm? No matter, her tyranny is numbered. I do not have so great a claim upon her hide as others. "Still... I will not stand idle. I will fight. I will do what ever I can by my power to eliminate the Banshee Queen, to rebel against the vile reaches of Sylvanas Windrunner. Of the Horde. They cannot be allowed to murder innocent lives no longer. Children who are ignorant of the world have no business being casualties in a war they know nothing of. "I am reminded by my betters that it is under this sentiment that we have banded together. It is hard to see passed fel-tainted eyes, rotting flesh, and green skin when these traits were common upon the slaughter of Darkshore and Teldrassil. "And yet, I sit here writing amongst my compatriots, who have dedicated a lifetime and more to protecting and defending the innocents disrupted by the eternal conflict of war. Not just with the Alliance and the Horde, but all war. I myself was an innocent, once upon a time, adopted by the Keeper and raised as one of her right-hands, to help expand her reach. She is of the Horde, even though she has not alliance with them. It is this grievous blow that has soured my image of her. "I am an ungrateful child." The rest of the page is smeared beyond legibility, and no longer comprehensible.