Heir of the Old Gods
In a letter, recently left in Karazhan, waxed seal, in the image of a raven.
There are places amongst the stars that have begun to worry my mind. I have seen many planes, realms and stars uncounted. Life seems to find its home even where it seemed impossible. It made me accept, with haste, that the life I knew was but a fraction of what was. Even the demonic forces of the Burning Legion could be seen as life, or the mad twisting void creatures. Their desire to spread, to flourish, to dominate, it seemed all so familiar. But in this vast space, I have begun to see things, hear things, feel that something was amiss.
I remembered my home, Karazhan and the was wealth of knowledge it held—the legacy of the guardian and protector of Azeroth. I remembered studying about all sorts of texts and scrolls. It was there that I learned what it meant to be the realms protector. In order to protect this world, I had to learn the history of the many kingdoms before it. The most ancient of text that I found, told of an empire long ago, these records were once spoken tales of the Taurens. It spoke of a dark empire, one that corrupted all it could and bend them towards its will. Few could withstand its might and those who tried soon fell under its wings or got turned into its bedrocks as punishment. One spoken whisper is recorded here: ‘’No life is ever unfit to serve the coming heir’’.
‘An heir?’
It was there that I delved deeper into the text and spoken worlds from this time. The very word heir made me worry. Was the dark empire waiting for someone to rise? Or perhaps, it was yet to be. It would not be impossible that they came to Azeroth in order to bring this heir to reality. Perhaps, it was here that it was meant to be its home.
It was soon unmistakable, the heir of the dark empire had been summoned, but still sleeping within a shell. It came to the empires knowledge that beings from beyond were slowly approaching Azeroth. So, they separated the heir spirit and shell in order to protect it. The body was hidden and the spirit was sent out on a voyage though the great dark beyond. It was when reading this, I heard and echo in my mind: ‘’We wait thy return to us, orphan of the old gods, heir to the empire and prince of the void’’.
If only I stopped there, but my mind could not rest. Soon I became absorbed in my research, captured and lost. It was only after my death and passing over the responsibility as guardian to my pupil, that I could pick up my lost trails. Binging peace to my soul by aiding the champions of Azeroth to bring defeat towards my enslavers, the Burning Legion. And then trying to find peace to my mind, by finding this heir and bring the same fate to them. It was in the dak beyond that I came to understand life a lot more. The trail of the heir was faint, but one need only follow the old gods influence in the cosmos and the traces of the heir could be found. These flames left behind was worshiped by the inhabitants of the world I found. Some were snuffed out, others consumed and others praised. Some I found, collected and put some out. But on the world of Azhrahdah, a home was found and even servants of the void.
The void is secretive, quiet and also very observant. It is no wonder that they seek to bring almost all of reality under its servitude in order to protect its lords, seeking to thwart all resistance and stop any form hindrance towards its expansion. It the halls of Mal’cluthar I could hear the void sing: ‘’Oh lord, oh lord, find your way home, to your fathers great and tall, your mother in kindred slumber shared, oh lord, oh lord, find your way home’’.
I somehow made it to the center of Mal’cluthar, only to be blinded by a pulse of fear and darkness. As soon as it appeared, it also faded. He was here, the heir of the empire, heir of the old gods. They had sent him away, back towards Azeroth, after so many years apart, the spirit and shell of the heir will soon be reunited.
I managed to make it back to Azeroth, and miraculously before the return of the heir. Time was draining, but it has not left our side. In fact, we still have more then enough time in order to find its shell. It was when I spent time in the Easter Kingdoms that I came to know, that the voices of Azhrahdah, the same I heard in the halls of Mal’cluthar, had made it to some even here. Although they could not understand it. To them, these whispers was just like the once before, only differing by their intensity. I soon returned to Karazhan, but not to be captured again in madness and fear, but this time with purpose, with hope, that I could make it to the heir shell before his spirit. But no matter how much I looked.
‘Nothing…there is nothing.’
I had reached an edge, a corner. But my will did not faulter. I knew that the heirs body had not left Azeroth, why else would the void had sent him back here? There must be another side, another side that leads towards a new trail. It was then I became aware of another tale. A tale from long ago, The Tragedy of Erinethria.
A brave dragon of the emerald dream, swift, fast, no land was impossible for he to reach. But one place was always told to all the green dragons, to never fly over the forbidden sea, never challenge the storm of the far west. Rightfully so. It was believed that the elemental plain of storm and lighting had its reach there, and that it had built a wall yet unbreeched. But Erinethria had a heart like no other. She dreamt of challenging the storm and break through the wall of storms. But none ever saw her again once she crossed the forbidden sea. Her fate was never known after that. But some say that a band of pirates sailed across the sea, past the storm wall and made it to the lands of the far west. Perhaps when she traveled towards the west, she somehow broke through the wall, with her blinding speed, leaving an opening for even sailors to pass through. If so, maybe I can find some willing too, to join on an expedition to the far west. My journey through the stars may have taken a few pieces of me, but I wager that I still have the strength to pass the storm wall and make it to the far west. One can only hope that the spirit of adventure is not yet lost in the hearts of those willing to take part in such a daring voyage.
To Be Continued…