Rambling of Wilted Flower
WiltedFlower, June 16, 2006
Sitting on a log in safety of a copse trees, a form sits quietly
gazing upon her arm. Her mind drifts. As she flexes her hand into
a fist and back she wonders about how much her life has changed.
She then gazes out across the farmer’s field at the children.
The life of the innocent is so bliss in its ignorance. What does
this mean to me? I am no longer ignorant of the world and thus no
longer bliss or innocent. How can I be after all that I have done
now? Serving one master, then to die and serve another? To kill
those I once considered friends? To befriend those I once
considered enemies, even worse, just silly tales of lore to
frighten young children into doing as they are told?
I mean, look at Skash? The man, no, the orc, is about as obtuse
as a brick yet his ideals and his upbringing defines him as about
as noble as one can get. Yet he is loathed by the alliance. Sworn
loyalty, simplicity in chaos, and yet he never steers wrong. Need
to brighten his day? Offer him a pie.
Can my day be brightened? Or perhaps the question is, should it
be brightened? According to the ideals of which I raised, I
should be executed. Oh, yeah, I was. Raised from the depths of
hell to serve another master. Oh, how ironic. The scourge are but
mindless and stupid yet I am raised to help fight them off. Is
the only difference between them and myself my soul? When I
destroy them, they are dead for all eternity, yet when I am
killed, and killed again, I am doomed to forever roam this land?
Will I turn out like so many others, like Zargoth and lose my
mind? My god, he killed me! Yet I rose again to continue again.
To what end? Will it end? Is the end even worth fighting for?
The Dark Lady asks that we fight in defense of our freedom and
that our alliance to the horde is out necessity. When the enemies
of the horde are crushed, will our alliance be broken? Will I
have to turn on my friends and slay them as well? Will I be able
to? Would I simply choose not to? Why choose anything?
Why drink? Why eat? It is useless for me to. Do I crave the taste
it once had? Perhaps I shall ask Emmons when I return to
Orgrimmar and offer him ale again. Maybe he’ll have some idea of
why he likes it so much?
Likes and dislikes. Why choose to be Grim. Why choose to not be.
Ah, Vitrioll and Vexum. So alike, yet so different. One chooses
to be Grim, the other not. Best of friends yet master and slave.
Loyal to the end, yet one the torturer, and the other the
tortured. One laughs, the other cries. And I said to be their
good luck charm?
She reaches down beside her and plucks a flower. She whispers,
“And what symbol are you? Peace? Love? Or poison? Can I make the
world see you as death oh pretty flower?”
She stands and stretches with the flower in hand. She steps out
into the field. The children scream, the parents pull them back
from the corpse they all gathered around. Many have been crying
at the shocking death of the young woman lying in the mud. She
approaches the corpse holding out the flower in her hand, or what
was the young woman’s hand and arm. She then drops the flower on
the girl’s chest. “I needed a replacement. She was… convenient.”
She looks about and sees fear in all but one. A young man with
hatred and defiance in his eyes and stance stands apart from the
others just glaring at her. “You hate me? You loathe me?” She
says to him. “Good. Go be all that you can be. Go train at the
Monastery. Perhaps one day you’ll be the one to finally return me
to the hells for all eternity.”
She turns away and walks toward the road leaving them to suffer
the useless death of their daughter/sister/friend/lover. As she
passes the house, she notices a simmering apple pie on a
windowsill and takes it. Perhaps Skash would like it?