World of Warcraft®

The old gnome laid on the large thick rounded pandaren bed. His sweating had finally stopped. The shakes were mild but controllable. The twitching could cause issues, but these were chances he had to take.

I’ve spent enough time here. Enough time in this Panda Land. They just wouldn’t give me peace with the fishermen. The fisher-pandas. Everything was a competition. They just couldn’t handle that I was better at fishing than all of them. Lies. Horrible, vicious, greedy liars. All of them. They’ll see. I'll make them see.

He shifted in his bed. It was nearly time.

They’d drugged him in Sri-La Village. Drugged him because he’d scared a few of the folk. They claimed that darkness befell the old gnome and that he’d caused sha to wander their village. Cail had no memory of this. In his drugged stupor they’d had him taken away to Tian Monastery. Held captive like some kind of animal.

That was some days ago, and now his caretaker, his prison guard, would soon be checking in on him. With him would come his regimented dose of tea to drink with his ground herbs pressed into a nifty pill shape, and he will stand and watch while Cail swallowed and drank. But the gnome had them fooled.

The guard had grown lazy. Complacent. Without noticing the gnome palmed the pill, never swallowing it. Cail also requested a fresh vat of stew be kept constantly brewing, so when the fat panda turned his back the tea was emptied beneath the mattress, which was beginning to smell. A sign it was nearing time to make his escape.

The voices spoke to him. Softly. Sweetly. Sometimes they were familiar, like memories. Other times he didn’t know them, but they were kind. They were helpful. The voices gave him useful ideas. They told him things, fed him the truth when others would not. When other could not. Thanks to them Cail knew what was happening. These panda men were all vicious killers underneath their fat fury flesh. They were animals, and would like nothing more than to eat him. Before they did they wanted his heart, because the heart was the seat of power. They wanted it all, but it was his and his alone.

Cail drifted to another place and time.

Wind swept fields of grass. A tall tree. A red checkered blanket. A basket full of delicious food. Tanaflyn laying lazily against the tree, her fine golden locks waving in the cool breeze. Her bright green eyes beckoned for him to join her. From around the tree children laughed and played. His children. The triplets, Flitlink, Bixiwink, and Dinink played tag. The girls scattered screaming when their little brother Ean ran at them with a toad. Tendrani, their youngest, straddled a tree limb while reading a book. She loved to climb.

Cail eased down beside Tanaflyn and laid his head on her lap. She tenderly stroked his head, running her fingers through his lone wild mane of gray hair. “There, there.” She cooed softly. “Just rest my love.”

“I want to Lyn. I don’t want to ever leave here.” Cail groaned. Someplace deep within was the knowledge that none of this was real. A vision. A dream. A hallucination. Be it was it is, Cail didn’t care. This was a time when he was happy. When everything made sense in the world. In his world at least.

“But you know you must leave, sooner or later.” Cail shifted to his back so he could look up into her eyes again as she spoke. “There is so much more for you to do. Things need to be completed. Your family still needs you.”

As he lay gazing up into those endless green eyes she passed a hand down over his face. The sensation of her touch exquisite. Again she passed her hand down over his face. His eyes closed…

…and then opened. The room was dark. Vegetable stew permeated the air. Above him stood a fat panda with a stupid look on his face, waving a meaty paw back and forth over Cail’s eyes.

“Gnome? Hello there? Mr. Mahlr’D? Are you with me?”

Cail blinked. The world rushed back and the urge came to angrily swat the fat paw away, but he managed to repress it. “I’m…. here….” Cail mouthed with a soft mutter, playacting his best.

The panda man smiled. “Ah, good. I have here your tea and herbal remedies as prescribed.” He motioned to the table where sat a steaming tea cup and a small plate with several small pills. “I see your stew is getting low. I’ll be right back with some fresh veggies and more water!”

For an instant the panda stepped right outside the door and then returned with the pale of water and basket of vegetables he’d prepared earlier. In that instant the seemingly feeble old gnome sprang from his bed, pocketed his pills and tossed the tea under his mattress. The panda didn’t take issue with the fact that Cail was standing beside his bed apparently finishing his hot cup of tea. Either this panda was really dumb or the gnome's performance was really convincing. Either way, Cail set the cup on the table and rolled back into bed.

An hour or more passed as the panda meandered around the small hut, humming a jaunty tune, doing who knows what. Finally he left without a word and closed the door behind him. Earlier in the day a favored panda girl had passed by. The pair talked for quite a while. It was evident that the two liked each other but were both too young to notice. The voices had shown the old gnome many tricks, not the least of which was how to create illusions. His skills were weak at best, but he didn’t need to be a master to fool his stupid panda guard.

Searching beneath his bed he found a small vial of very fine powder. A gift from his shadowy voices. He poured its contents onto the small plate that held his medications. The fine powder gave a slight shimmer in the dark light. Cracking open the door a little he found the panda standing right outside, close enough he could have touched him. Cail gave a soft puff and blew the fine void dust into the air. What followed next took a great deal of concentration.

The panda sneezed, then looked up sharply hearing a voice only he could hear. He smiled at no one. “Why yes.” He chuckled. “That would be great! I would love to have dinner with you tonight. Let’s talk about the details, yes?” And he wandered off a short distance to converse with an image that only he saw.

IT WORKED! The old gnome raised his fists in the air triumphantly. Taking his chance, Cail skipped over to his bed, pulled his boots on, and then slipped right out the door.

His hurried shuffle pace eased the further away he moved. His attention diverted when he passed by a small shrine. Remembering something one of the voices had told him he paused a moment to inspect it. Satisfied this shrine wasn’t the one he was looking for, he continued on his merry way, aloof to the greater dangers that lurked in the Jade Forest beyond.

Leaving the monastery, the old gnome approached a long impressively arched bridge of white stone. Adorned with richly painted red timbers and an intricately decorated pagoda the entire structure looked like something straight out of a fanciful children's tale, or perhaps some kind of incredible dream. Cail paused in the middle of the well-worn path. His ears twitched at the sound of a distant howling breeze. His eyes widened and he turned slowly in place taking in the rich full colors of his surroundings.

This... this is... only a dream. I'm. I'm halu...hallucinating.

A deep voice droned from some dark recess of his mind, and responded. Perhaps it is. Maybe life itself is the dream. Would you awaken to your truth? Would you embrace your reality?

Trembling began in the tips of his left hand. He balled his fist but they merely traveled up his arm. Hugging himself, arms wrapped around his chest, the trembling turned quickly to violent quaking.

Oh! No! Please! Voices, please.

Losing control of his own body, the little old gnome slowly doubled over into a ball and rolled onto his side. Gods... Spirits.... Beloved... No! Not like this... Not now...

"...p-pleassse." Came the whisper through gritted teeth. The moment felt like an eternity, but it passed rather quickly leaving the old gnome sweaty and fatigued.

Come along then. The deep voice droned. Pick yourself up, doctor, and get moving. Your enlightenment draws near.

Pushing himself to his knees with great effort, Cail shimmied to a nearby rail post and pulled himself to his feet. A moment later, when he'd regained enough of his strength, he turned west off the road and made his path into the Jade Forest. He knew not where exactly he went, but the shadow gripping his heart lead the way. In as much as he was lead along as if on a leash he also followed eagerly. There was a sense that this voice was telling the truth. After all he'd been through, right now he may finally be nearing the end of his ordeal. The end of his... Condition of Shadow.

Feet aching. Legs tired. Back straining. Cail approached the large circle of stone pillars.

Each monolith was marked in a particular and strange fashion. It seemed obvious to the old gnome that this circle of stones held a particular purpose. Fatigued, he leaned against one of the stone pillars and allowed himself to slide to the ground. A moment of rest.

In the center of the circle was another stone monolith. This one however sat with a smaller circular base. An altar perhaps, of some sort, Cail wondered. As he sat resting, wiping the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt, his mind began to clarify. There was still a haze to his thoughts. The world surrounding him still appeared rather wondrous as if he were walking within a dream, yet the images came sharper. Clearer. The colors were so vibrant. Even the earth had a hue all its own. It was all so strange.

The pain began as an ache at the base of his neck. It gnawed at his mind, slowly climbing into his head until finally it gripped his mind with sharp claws. Cail winced, bringing his hands to his temples, taking in a sharp breath.

You are right to suspect. The voice spoke as a deep whisper to his mind. This cairne of stones has been the site of many visions. Together within this Circle of Blood we shall probe the mysteries of your lineage, Cailean.

As the voice directed Cail's attention, the old gnome gazed up at the center stone and the altar upon which it sat. Before it on the cobble stone ground sat a group of thick red candles arranged in a small circle. Following the urging of the voice, the old gnome pushed himself to his feet and shuffled to the candles. Their wicks ignited as one. The lights danced in his eyes, soothing his mind, beckoning him to kneel in their midst, and he knelt.

With each deep breath that followed the world around him melted away. A familiar aroma teased at his memories...
Cinnamon.

Tanaflyn's sweet voice echoed softly.

"My strapping hero. Have you come to save the day for me?" A much younger and less grey version of Cail (with a shorter beard) pushed himself out from beneath a mechanical contraption.

"Have no fear, my darling, for I, your fearless husband, am here to make things right!" Sharing a broad grin with his wife, Cail pushed himself to his feet and turned to the machine. "Behold, the wonders I have performed."

He flamboyantly flipped a switch and the machine began to wobble and gyrate. He stood proudly by holding out an arm of display as the machine began to work perfectly as intended. Tanaflyn wrapped her arms around Cail's midsection, him standing several inches taller than she. Likewise he wrapped his arms around her, and they hugged.

"At long last." She whispered. "We can have clean dishes again thanks to your ingenuity." Cail kissed the top of her head.

"I only wish our daughters shared your vision." Tanaflyn pushed herself back to peer up at him. Her expression troubled.

"Cailean. Don't be so disappointed. It's their decision after all." Cail nodded.

"I know it is, and I respect it. I was just hoping that they'd embrace the quiet life of a tinker and leave the world and its troublesome wonders alone."

"You've provided a wonderful life and home for us over the years, dearest. For that we are all grateful, but the mysteries and wonders of Dalaran call, as it did to your grandparents."

"For all the good it did them too. There is a reason why my father abandoned that line of my family."

"And press so hard to instill such a deep distrust in his children of all things magical and wondrous... and yet you still tinker."

"Completely different things, Tana." Cail grimaced. Tanaflyn smiled.

"Are they? Are they really?" Tana shrugged and fell back into his arms. "At any rate, one out of four isn't so bad." Cail chuckled, holding her close.

"Ean is certainly my boy, isn't he."

"He is at that. Entirely too much like you. He also disapproves of his sisters leaving to study mystical arts, but he still manages to openly support them as a little brother ought too. In time, when he is ready, he'll inherit your tinkering empire." Tanaflyn did her best to restrain a giggle, but failed.

"Go ahead. Snicker if you like, but one day it will be an empire. Lordaeron wasn't built in a day you know." The pair shared a soft snicker as two very close friends, who were very much in love, would.

The old gnome's eyes opened slowly. Tiny pinpoints of candle light pierced his eyes at first.

Beyond them the stone monoliths stood silently shrouded in darkness. A glow emanated from beyond the central stone pillar. Stepping as a spirit through the stone came the image of the son that shared his father’s name. At his side stood his young wife, and around their legs appeared three figures whose shape and features were unknown to him.

Blinking, the old gnome pressed up to his feet and slowly gazed all about. Surrounding him stood a legion of gnomes, male and female, some with children, and others alone. Each appeared unique. Most wore rather typical attire, but there were some, a select third, who stood distinctly apart.

These third, Cail knew, represented the line of his family whom he'd turned his back on. The family he’d abandoned.

"Mages. All of them." He whispered aloud. "They... were all... all mages?"

Of a fashion. The deep voice answered. A whisper in his mind. Not all of them clung to such titles and traditions. Each followed their own path, regardless of convention. Each noble in their own right, regardless of how misguided some may have become in the opinions of their peers. All of them followed a path of their own making and are counted among your noble lineage. A lineage you had forsaken.

Cail's eyes brimmed. He blinked, the tears streaming down his checks. When his eyes opened the darkness was gone along with the images of those who came before. "I had doubts." He spoke to the deep voice in his head.

You had hope. It answered.

"My father was proven correct, the day I lost them all. The day they were all taken from me." Cail's voice broke as the pain he kept buried resurfaced.

The day all hope was taken from you.

Cail blinked again, wiping away his tears. He breathed deeply and regained his composure. "What of it then? Why put me through all of this pain and torment? What is the purpose of it all?"

As he wiped away the last of his tears he noticed his fingers. Astonished, he held out his hands and studied them.

"The... the shadow. The shroud. It's... it's gone."

Looking down the front of him he felt his chest. A slight searing pain reminded him that the shroud was still present, but in that moment he felt that it only surrounded his heart. In the darkness he had found solace. He had found a true peace he had not known in ages it seemed. With that peace came an assurance that bolstered his being and strengthened his will. Without realizing what had been done, Cail suddenly found that he was now fully in control of his own darkness. The voices, the images, the memories, and faces were all still there but only just beyond the boundaries of his sanity. All he needed to do was reach for them, but as he was now, his world inside and out was silent. At peace.

Suddenly, Cail could breathe once again. Truly breathe. He smelt the forest around him and knew that none of it was a dream. Though it had all felt surreal at one point, he was alive and it was all in fact not a dream. He gazed down at his hands once more. His old, spotted, wrinkled hands and smiled.

This. The voice whispered in his mind. This was the purpose of it all. With the suffering came understanding and acceptance. Now that you have come to understand and accept your place within this realm you can begin to heal. You can begin to grow stronger.

"All my life, I'd forced myself into a belief that I was wrong. That I was not …magical. That I had not talent or affinity toward these strange and mystical arts. That it was all inherently flawed, and for that deadly. That it should be avoided at all costs. I'd waged this war within myself for far too long. I know now the truth."

Magic is a part of your heritage. Apart of who you are. It defines you as much as the wrench in your hand or the scalpel. Whether you’re saving the life of a person or bringing life back to a machine, both are wondrous and magical.

Cail nodded to the voiceless whispers. "It is time I allowed this part of my being to grow. I have repressed it all for far too long."

And like the raging torrent of a river breaking free from its dam, it will all come back to you. Let it.

The old gnome dropped his hands to his hips, looping his thumbs into his belt line. His features scrunched.

"Now just wait a minute. All of the images and voices I'd heard over the past months, it all came to me while I was losing my mind. I have my mind back now. So why then am I still hearing yours?"

You may have your mind back, but dose your sanity also come with it?

Cail's mustache twisted as he scrunched his lips. "A fair point. Assuming then that I am sane and my mind is my own, then that would acknowledge that these whispers in my mind are real. And if you are real and you must have an identity. So then. Who are you and why are you still poking around in my head?"

Cail stood defiantly within the monolithic Circle of Blood along the Path of Enlightenment and awaited his answer. Soon the voice came to his mind as a faint whisper.

You are not the last of your lineage. Not all of them were lost. Find me, and I will show you... everything.

As the voice in his mind weakened and faded vivid impressions were left behind. The image of a location, a special place revered by Pandaren, a place of power was not far from where he now stood. He was left with the urge to find this place. There he would gather together debris from his surroundings, and along the way, to build a specific item which he would have to imbue for a specific purpose.

The image and impression left in his mind was clear. He would have to build a void totem.