A Mark
- -by Razas
His bones ached. He had been dead for longer than he had been alive, far longer. Was it finally time to go? He had thought it would have been time many times over.... like that one time with the dragon... and the squid...
Yes, he thought, it was time. I can feel it. I see my old friend, in his pale grey robes, right over there. Why don't you ever where something different than grey, hmm? The grey, ghostly figure laughed, and smiled at the old man.
"I like grey, what can I say. You didn't change what you wore very often either..."
The old man harrumphed, and weak glowing eyes surveyed the area... A beatiful, peaceful land. Feralas. The only place truly untouched, untamed left in this world.
The humans had finally gotten their politicians into the Horde, and peace was rampant. Sylvanas was still on the run, still leading her renegade undead in their quest to destroy what remained, but they were alone now. The Lich King had left this world, in search of the Burning Legion. He had grown disinterested in this world.... and Northrend was now just any other frozen wasteland....
The old man sighed, and looked out to see the massive gorge through which the river ran. He liked this river... He smiled at the grey figure, floating in midair. "I want to ask one question."
"Go ahead."
"Did I make a difference? Did my insanity count for anything.... Did I make my mark on this world? Will I be.... remembered?"
"You will be remembered."
The old man smiled, weakly, and got up from his seat, painfully. He slowly walked outside, to see the massive river in full view.... he walked right to the edge...
"Good to know, Old friend. I'm ready now."
The old man smiled broadly, and summoned just enough strength in his legs to jump off into the water, with a shout of "Geranium....."
And then he was gone.