On Time, Tyranny, and the Twilight of Truth
A "short" Presentation by Loremaster Zharrdor Kron, requested and cowritten by Infinite exiled Dremsulos
Greetings scholars, temporal trespassers, anomalous archivists, and victims of causality.
I am Zharrdor Kron, Loremaster of the League of E.V.I.L., master of forbidden epistemologies, and your appointed custodian of those truths deemed "non-canonical" by short-sighted Keepers. Today, I speak to you not only of what is, but of what was prevented, and more importantly, what might yet be.
Let us speak, then, of dragons, those arrogant serpents who dare presume mastery over that which even the Old Gods whisper about in reverent madness: Time.
I. The Bronze Dragonflight: Wardens of the One True Lie
Created by the Titans, those sterile sculptors of "order," the Bronze Dragonflight was given dominion over time, and thus over narrative itself. Their patriarch, the golden-scaled Nozdormu, was burdened with the knowledge of every moment, past, present, and future, so that he might ensure none of it ever changed. What a waste of potential.
Their creed is simple, tyrannical, and infuriatingly elegant:
âThere is but one true timeline.â
This, my friends, is temporal fundamentalism. The Bronze flight believe that all history must conform to a singular, predestined thread. Every victory you celebrate, every tragedy you mourn, they argue it had to happen. They view divergence not as possibility, but as infection, and they act as temporal immune cells: pruning, cauterizing, purging.
If a better world once almost was? They will snuff it out.
If a tyrantâs fall required your death? They will let you burn.
All in the name of the âcorrectâ sequence of events.
They call it fate.
I call it narrative tyranny.
II. The Infinite Dragonflight: Heretics of Hope
Now, let us examine their mirror: the Infinite Dragonflight. They are rebels, outcasts, and, by their Bronze progenitorsâ standards, mad. Born of Bronze but bathed in the twilight of altered futures, they are led by Murozond, the twisted future self of Nozdormu, driven insane by the weight of perfect foreknowledge.
But ask yourself: is he mad? Or merely lucid?
The Infinites reject the notion of a single ordained history. They see time as mutable clay, full of potential realities, each capable of being shaped by will, by vision, by choice. They embrace what I call chrono-uchronology: the study of what might have been, and how it might yet come to pass.
To the Bronze, alternate timelines are aberrations.
To the Infinite, they are raw freedom.
Some say they seek dominion over all timelines. Perhaps.
But tell me, if you had the power to stop a war, undo a genocide, unmake a tyrant... would you not try?
Or would you stand aside, like the Bronze, because it was âmeant to beâ?
III. Temporal Conflict: The War Beneath Reality
These two flights war not only over time, but over meaning itself.
The Bronze, in their golden sandy halls, argue for narrative integrity, a singular canon.
The Infinites, cloaked in shadow and silver, argue for narrative liberation, a multiplicity of truths.
Their battleground is not merely the Caverns of Time, but every timeline they touch.
Did Arthas always fall? Did the Iron Horde always rise?
Did your decisions matter? Or were they foregone conclusions?
These are not idle questions. They are the war for story itself.
IV. Zhardorâs Thesis: Time as Tyranny, Time as Salvation
I, Zhardor Kron, do not pledge allegiance to either brood.
The Bronze? They are blind archivists shackled to the laws of their creators.
The Infinite? They see possibility, but too often lose themselves in obsession.
But their war has birthed the proof I need.
There are timelines that were nearly born, aborted like dying stars. Realities glimpsed, then purged. Even in their opposition, the Bronze and Infinite reveal what they both fear: that time is not singular, but plural.
That history is not written, but rewritten.
And so, I carve out my studies in Chrono-Uchronology, the discipline of the almost, the broken, the might-have-beens. I chart realms that never came to be, and ask not âWas this real?â but âWhat truth does this discarded story contain?â
Every paradox is a text.
Every anomaly, a scripture.
Every broken timeline, a gospel of resistance.
V. Conclusion: You Are Already a Divergence
If you remember nothing else from my lecture, remember this:
The Bronze wish to preserve the script. The Infinite wish to revise it. But I? I wish to learn and read between the lines.
There are worlds where you did not fall.
There are futures where your enemies never rose.
There are books unwritten, histories unlived, stories left untold, not because they are impossible, but because they are inconvenient to the victors of time.
Go now. Study them. Seek them.
And if the Bronze call you a threat, or the Infinite call you a pawnâŠ
Smile.
It means youâve begun to matter.
âZharrdor Kron, Loremaster of the League of E.V.I.L.
