A/N: Hello, this is Pestilencea-The-Warlock. This is meant to be a series of drabbles, following the lives of different people. Those who might be heroes, those who might be villians. The first few chapters are random stories that I had floating about on my computer, however I am full of new ideas for this project and I'm eager to write them down.
The chapters will be independent and unconnected (unless I say otherwise, which might happen) but you may or may not notice recurring characters, symbols or themes.
For now, read, review and enjoy :)
Disclaimer: I don't own World of Warcraft, obviously, otherwise I would've made them re-design the dragon models.
Things we wish we'd said
Staring down at the mass-grave, Sabbine feels nothing but a yawning, infinite emptiness inside. She doesn't feel the pouring rain and she doesn't feel the comforting hands of her comrades on her shoulders. She doesn't hear the quiet words that are meant to console her and she doesn't see the concern in her friend's eyes. All she hears is the static in her ears and all she sees is Nadira's bloodied and bruised face, smiling up at her and telling her that everything will be alright.
They try to get her to move, try to lead her back inside, away from this monument to the dead, out of the pouring rain. But she doesn't move from her spot and her eyes don't stray from the white marble slab under which her lover lies buried, along with all those others who fell in the battle for Wyrmrest Temple and in the fight against Deathwing - or at least what was left of them.
One by one they leave her side, until only one person remains kneeling, her gloved hand resting on the smooth stone inscribed with the names of the Fallen.
Sabbine doesn't notice her and even if she did, she wouldn't mind ther other's presence. This other person isn't there to try and pretend that things will be alright. She is here to grieve as well, to mourn a life lost forever. A person, or maybe several that will never return. Family, Friends, Lovers. They don't know each other and they never will, they are perhaps worlds apart, but out here in the rain they are the same, two souls who have lost their purpose.
Sabbine will remeber Nadira's smiling face for years to come. She will hear her words in her sleep, so warm and full of love as she lays dieing. 'Don't worry Sabs. Everything will be alright. Don't worry, It'll be okay.'
And she will wish she had said it, what her heart had known all along, said it before her chance had been taken away.
As her mind slowly returns from that empty place where her heart used to be, she kneels down beside the mourning stranger and places her hand on the stone as well. The rain is still pouring, the icy tears of heaven are still falling, as she whispers:
„I never got to tell her I loved her."
And the draenei beside her nods, her face blank and yet betraying her agony at the same time. It is there in the creased corners of her eyes and the downwards twitch of her lips. It is the expression of someone incapable of tears, who is crying all the same. The rain has plastered her white hair to dark skin and runs in rivultes down her black armor. The gloved hand caresses a single name on the stone slab, thin fingers gently tracing every single letter etched into the surface. 'Amara'
„Yeah, neither did I"