Almaari's Journal

When the dark portal turned red and bled orcs into Azeroth, I never thought it would be the beginning of my journey home. I never thought that in days, I would be writing under a tree overlooking the plains of Shadowmoon Valley. I have lived for countless millennia and never have I felt as I do now. I can still see the splendor of Argus and the alien worlds that the Genedar stopped on during it's long voyage in my mind, but to me, nothing ever compared to Draenor. Draenor was, and always will be, home to me. I never felt so comfortable as I did on this wild and beautiful planet.

I lived here. I loved here. And...I lost here.

We came to the Valley by ship. When I stepped onto the shores and surveyed the land around us, I was overcome with emotion. I was here to serve the Alliance, but these were my people. This was my home. The smells on the breeze and the whispers of the trees were just as I remembered. I found myself walking into the forest in a haze, flooded with lost memories that were coming back. How often had I hunted these hills and stalked through the underbrush of these woods? I assisted with establishing a foothold in the hills before leaving the Alliance encampment for a time.

I raced Sakhi across the plains toward Elodor and for the first time in what felt like centuries, I threw my head back and laughed. My talbuk thundered over hills and bounded over rocks, as happy to be home as I. As we blurred across the countryside though, I began to think of Elodor.  The Enclave where I spent many sleepless nights pouring over maps, analyzing samples, and fletching my arrows was there. The markets where I sold the goods from my hunts and the schools where I sometimes taught children the dangers of the world. The farms where my...

My heart caught in my chest and I reined Sakhi up. I had steeled myself from those memories for so long that I grew unaccustomed to the agony of them. My family lived on those farms. My family...died on those farms. Questions took over my mind. 'Would I see them there? Would they know me?' I hoped they wouldn't. I could hardly bear the thought of seeing their faces again in life after seeing them frozen in fear after death. My fleeting happiness left me and urged my beast toward the city again.

When I reached the city, I saw that several of my Azerothian comrades had already arrived. I was relieved I would not have to explain my presence to the people here. I took Sakhi to the stables and began to wander the city. The innkeepers, the teachers, the traders...I had seen their faces every day and now they look at me with curious stares instead of smiling recognition. I walked down the hill to the Enclave to offer myself to the Prime and to see if this was I remembered as well. I was told that I was not the first of the Rangari to return to them, which relieved me. I assisted them with a few menial tasks and shared what I knew of the Iron Horde. I spoke to a few of the rangers and introduced myself to them but... I knew these people. I fought along them and was prepared to die for them. Now I am just a stranger from a strange land to them...

I excused myself after a time. I came out here, as I often would, to the hills near the city. I watch the elekks graze below and the kaliri soaring above me and I cannot help but wonder if I am getting soft. I buried my grief under a mask of unwavering discipline and molded myself into a stern protector of my people after the tragedies of this world. Now, I find myself worrying over my companions and grieving for a long dead family. This rekindled pain in my heart is overwhelming, but I will use it as fuel for a second chance. I could not visit the farms today, but I know my family is there.