Exodus

So many changes in so little time. A month ago, I haunted the streets of Stormwind- a gibbering lunatic, as any would tell you. Few people thought more of me than that- those who move about in these times rarely have time to think about unimportant things. And I was just that- unimportant. 
Being a failure rests heavily on your mind. I think, perhaps, more heavily on my mind than on others. 
No doubt the unending torture that consumed my sanity emphasized to me the depths of my inadequacy. 
The Nightmare is not a forgiving teacher. 
But times change, as they always have. I rediscovered my past and my shame, all at once. Not surprising, I suppose, considering how the two are tied. Standing there in a Westfall tower, and just.. remembering. A strange sensation, to suddenly recall so much about yourself. 
So much of my sanity, tied around one person. The unwitting progenitor of my newfound sanity, the one who helped me find a way to the Outlands, and safety. And, I think most importantly, someone whose ordinary troubles have given me something to focus on besides the utter enormity of the task that lays before me. 
Because that's what the Outlands have become. I fled to this place, thinking only to escape the Nightmare that lurks in the Emerald Dream- and now I find myself here, on a tortured world, as someone sworn to nurture life. 
I suppose I can't run far enough to escape trouble.
----
The life I live would seem odd to my old self, I think. Here I am, running around in this strange world with, of all things, a nineteen year old human warlock. I remember myself thinking of humans with a sort of quiet contempt.. But I have forgotten why. I think I lost my arrogance, along with my sanity. 
No real loss, I suppose. But arrogance was always such a comfort. It seduces you, it tells you what you need to hear. Nothing can really be your fault, if you are arrogant enough. If you only think enough of yourself, unfortunate events you let come to pass become a vast conspiracy designed to bring you down, lessen you. A comfort, I suppose, to those with unbearable crimes to their names. 
My crimes are less than that, on the grand scale of life. But small crimes on a grand scale are still more than large enough to overwhelm those of us who aren't larger than life. I think that is why so many truely evil people are so supremely arrogant- not because they were so full of themselves they didn't think what they did was wrong, but because the only way they could keep themselves sane was becoming so full of themselves they inflated to the size of their crime.
----
I always wonder if paladins and priests have the same worries I do. That someday, they'll wake up and be found unworthy of what they have. To be stripped of what they are. 
My time in flight has only made those fears worse, unfortunately. Even if I spend all my time in this strange world healing it, will that be enough? Can I atone for my flight? I left Azeroth for my own safety, even though doing so meant abandoning the Dream, and abandoning my responsibilities as a druid. What can I possibly do in this wasteland to make up for that? Will the land be understanding of my concern for my own small survival? Will my efforts to make this place anew mean anything, or will they be revealed to be petty excuses of a coward? 
Atonement is always a complicated thing. I became a druid to atone. It was such a silly reason- I accidently burnt down a tree, and I was so horrified I felt I had to make up for it, somehow. But the longer I trained as a druid, the more I realized... this is what I am. My own self-involved drama became the cornerstone of everything I am. I am fortunate, I suppose, it was a more benevolent drama than most. I have seen people's lives consumed by their obsession with their own dramatics. 
But what can I do, now? The longer I stay in this place, the more I can do to help it- and the greater the chance my homeland will suffer some Nightmare-fueled catastrophy. 
So I try to avoid choosing a path, even though doing nothing is a choice itself. I don't think it's working. 
----
Things can change quickly. The slow march of history I have seen pales in comparison to the little moments when everything changes. I had one of those moments today. 
Not terribly important, in the scheme of things. But it marks the end, for me. 
Today, the Dream made its will known. 
Today, I have been stripped of who I am. 
It was silly of me to think I could run from it, I suppose. Something so intrinsic to what I am can't be run from, only confronted. 
I'm standing in front of the portal, now. It's immense, far larger on this side than it is on the other. I wonder why. I can feel the call, deep in my bones. 
Old, old bones. I'm an elf, after all. We all defied nature for too long. Arrogance, again. The portal.. 
I barely remember the person standing next to me, it so fills my mind. I remember the other portal, deep in the Twilight Vale- the beginning of the end for me, it's turning out. 
Enough meandering, I suppose. Through the portal I go... 
... And out I come. For some reason, I thought it would seem.. different. But it doesn't, really. 
I hand Shame her envelope, already thinking of what lies ahead. And.. there. 
Calm, flows the world. And I flow with it, away from portals and friends and reality. 
Into dreams.