Synchronicity

[Etmosril]

[Part of an IC story. It's like WoW creepypasta. ]

"There are many legends I've heard in my travels across Azeroth. Some of them are fleeting, and last no more than a few years. Others... outlast civilizations. Those who tell them say that the stories originate from the beginning of our world. Would you like to hear one? Come, sit down and pay attention. You may need to remember this someday.


"It is said that every night, a creature wanders our woods. Not a lynx, nor bear. No, nothing like that. This one only appears as blue light, drifting through the trees. It's always where you least expect it. Go outside to check your traps after dark - it will be waiting for you. It watches you. It knows where you are. It will lead you into the woods with its light.

"And it will call to you. Gently at first, carried on the wind, but it will grow into a song of shadows and stars which blots all else from your mind like a bad memory. You'll do anything to follow it. Before long... you'll find yourself looking to the stars and cursing the mortal form which holds you back from them.

"When you're too far away from civilization to see mortal light, you can't turn back. The creature will ask you if you want to come with it. There's only one answer. And when you say yes.. it'll drag you up into the stars themselves to be with them forever.

"Some say that they're spirits from another world who travel on the Nether. Some say they live in the stars, and are simply lonely. Others say that they hunt the living, and drop them to their deaths before feeding. Most don't know. The only people who've lived to tell the tale are the ones who turned back while they had the chance.

They're the ones who call those creatures by their names: At'ane.

"There. Frightening and far-fetched, perhaps, but all stories have a grain of truth to them. The problem is finding that truth before it's too late to make a difference."

[Etmosril]

Unintentional Legend

Sabreka finds out why being friends with humans sucks.

"Back when I was young, my parents traveled a lot. The world seemed bigger then: always full of new places and people, and rather frightening. Often I had to take care of myself. I was just learning to walk when we stopped at a human town, and I met with a girl my age. Iris Coleman was her name. I don't remember what we played, but it was fun. We ended up falling asleep under the bushes outside her house.
It was simple. Simple and good.

"The next time we passed through that town was ten years later. By then, Iris looked and acted much older. I was puzzled by her, and maybe a little jealous. How did she understand so much about the world? It's hard to explain, but not seeing one another most of the time only made our short visits more special. She told me she remembered me well - that I was her friend, no matter how different we were - and that I'd always be welcome wherever she lived.

"Time passed differently for both of us.
Iris grew and became a woman, while I stayed a child. I was invited to her wedding; the day she was married to Ivan Hawkins, a boy from the town. After that, she always spent her time with him. Year by year, each time we traveled by, things had changed. The town sprang up over the grassy fields. Iris and Ivan worked to plan out the houses one by one. Sometimes they traveled. When they had enough money to buy their own farm, they settled down for good. I still visited, but Ivan never seemed to understand it, and Iris was.. gone. Distant.

"Iris Hawkins is dead now. She and Ivan died decades ago, leaving their children (two sons, one daughter). Most of them are married, with families of their own. The children of Iris and Ivan's children have their own families, some of whom are getting ready to leave and start the cycle all over again.
And it was only two years ago that I was named an adult.

"I never stopped visiting them. Every time we passed by one of their houses, I'd wait in the forests and grasses outside their house at dawn, holding gifts for them. Waiting to be let inside, or for them come out and play with me the way Iris had, long ago. The parents told their children stories of the girl who lived in the forests, and visited to bring them good luck. But it never seemed to matter. They always grew up and forgot me.

"I'm still young. There are hundreds of years left in my life. But even so, Quel'dorei and Sin'dorei don't live very long. Night Elves live for thousands of years, and Draenei for longer. What does it feel like to live for thousands of years? That's enough time for civilizations to build and crumble, or see one species evolve into another. To them, I'm as limited as Iris was to me."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sabreka Telrúnya woke very suddenly that morning. She peered up from her 'nest' of dried grass and leaves to the face of the Talbuk above her. He was larger than most, with mottled fur, but his doe eyes and fluffy fetlocks set him firmly in the 'cute' category of fauna. She reached up and gave his muzzle a rub, grinning to herself as he leaned into the hand.

"Thanks for waking me up. That dream was weird." She said quietly, and her hand went down. She looked to the other side of the nest she'd built. It was empty, but the indentations in the grass suggested someone else had been lying there recently. "Do you want to come with Elil and me to the volcano today? It'll be hot, but it's not like the ones in Shadowmoon. It's not fel - it's normal." The talbuk backed out of the little alcove set amongst the tree roots. Sabreka took a little while to rummage around in her pack and put on new clothes before following him out.

Lush, curling greenery and huge, mossy trees grew everywhere in Un'Goro Crater. The land was fragmented into islands by the many streams which crisscrossed it. Sounds of trickling water accompanied the squawks and calls of jungle birds, monkeys, and the occasional dinosaur. The canopy was so high above that the sunlight radiated through in huge green-and-gold spangles which shifted in the gentle breeze. One of the sentient plants skittered by, just a stream across from her.

Sabreka took it all in with wide, admiring eyes. She looked sidelong over at the Talbuk, who was beginning to pull mouthfuls of grass out of the turf and eat them - dirt and all.

"Eeeew, don't do that. You'll get sick from too much dirt, or eat a worm or something." Sabreka managed to pull a few clumpy pieces of grass and dirt away from the talbuk. He peered at her, then flicked his tail and began to eat somewhere else instead. "Fine.. but be careful. And watch for dinosaurs." She looked back under the branching tree roots from whence she came, then picked her Arakkoa mask out of the nest.
She put it on her head and stepped out into the steamy jungles of Un'Goro.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"We spent decades together, the Coleman line and I. Iris and I. The Hawkins/Colemans are born, grow up, grow old, and die,while I keep traveling. Should I be happy for finding where I belong? Bittersweet because I kept losing my human friends? It's kind of stupid to be constantly deciding, so I'll just go with my gut instinct. To be amazed at what's come of those friendships.

"They'll tell their stories about me for generations. For longer than I'll live. Without ever trying, I've become a legend equal to the Draenei or the Night Elves. And you know what? I'm happy with it."