**This is the little story that started Annorah for me – the very first story she told (over a year ago now), and one of the few that say anything about the crash of the Exodar or her life before Azeroth. Hopefully you enjoy it!**
Annorah sat, letting her mind absorb the flickering firelight as two healers packed cool compresses around her face and neck. The burns had nearly healed now, but the soothing herbs still felt good – her skin was very tender. Bandages had lead to mottled scarring; now dark, but soon to fade to a pale, mottled silvery blue, lighter than her skin (if past scars were any indication of how these would look). She’d never get use of her eye back though – they’d finally just given up after repeated attempts to heal the damage only made her vision worse. She could make out shapes, light and dark, in bright lights, but nothing more.
Slowly her thoughts began to wander, the mesmerizing fire lulling them into submission until she could see far away. She never knew what she’d find in a fire, or if it were the future or the past, or some twisted alternative to the present, but if she sat and let her mind empty, she knew the visions would come.
A mountain, breathing fire and smoke. A toppled castle, full of terrible, torturous instruments, dragons, and chemicals. A watery tomb, the ruins of a building. A graveyard of empty and destroyed graves. Tonight, she saw not one steady image, but flashes.
And then one held before her eyes – great and swirling. A megalith; a portal, filled with dark energies. She watched the portal as it pulsed, watched as riders approached it from a land barren and tortured, watched as they dismounted, watched in horror as they stepped through – but were not destroyed? And then she saw them – the other side, in a place she didn’t dare to think she recognized.
Nausea overwhelmed her.
Clawing the poultice from her face, she tore out of the room and into the cool night air, the startled priestesses clucking about “not being finished, where was she going?” A few deep breaths and her stomach settled down, no longer reeling in waves of sickness. She had seen it – Draenor – but how? When had those humans gone through the portal, and why? Draenor had been a destroyed and destroying world that they had been lucky to escape. Now people were going back there?
Another deep breath. Perhaps… perhaps there was some hope for even the former homeland of The Exiled.
She stepped back inside, gathering her few things. Yes, she would be ok – she knew how to care for the burns, and they were nearly healed anyway. Everyone she knew was gone – but she would go on and not sit here, coddled by priestesses and their soothing, mind numbing herbs.
On the wind, she heard the Farseer Nobundo calling for her again. The elements had been talkative since she’d learned how to listen, and now she was seeing them more strongly through her sightless eye, and he would like that. She felt at her belt for a little black glass bowl and the small bag of stones that he had given her before…. Yes, she would go back to Nobundo – for he could see farther and more clearly than she could, and he would teach her a true partnership with the elements.
And someday, she would return to Draenor.
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