Dark.

Cold.

She just couldn't stay there. Not this night, not this blackened midnight. Here the winds of the mountains cut through her tunics like daggers and she could feel the bite of the snow slashing against her cheek. It howled, the wind, carrying the hunting calls of the wolves, a predatory summoning. The tips of her pig tails, they were already icing, as she hugged herself tight. Small arms wrapped her tummy and her eyes were squeezed shut, and she knew if she cried her tears would freeze before they slipped halfway down her small face.

Behind her, the big voidwalker roared, his arms lifting to the Kharanos skies, his gold and cobalt bracers glittering beneath the cold starlight.

And behind her.

Even further. Behind a wall of mountains tall.

Stormwind. Whose stone walks and fine parks and carven buildings ...

Even more empty.

More lonely.

More cold.

"T-T-T-they ... "

Teeth chattering. Her little girl stutter.

Control gone.

"M-M-M-Mezzy ...

"T-T-T-hey ar-r-rest-t-ted M-M-Miss M-M-Meris ...

"T-T-Tonight."

This littlest gnome warlock looked down upon the valley. The little homesteads. So small below, nestled in the shelter of the mountains, their frosted windows flickering orange, the only hint of warmth in the snow wrapped night.

Someone elses home.

A breath taken, let out, slow, frosting on the air like a fey mist slipping through elven Ashenvale.

A moment, trying to regain ... a mote of balance.

"I ... I just don't understand it, Mezzy.

"I really don't."

Falling to her knees the young woman is almost engulfed in the snow, feeling it pack beneath her, a small gray and amethyst dot so tiny on the mountain slopes.

"They said she kidnapped someone. They said she ... she cut off fingers. And ... and she just walked away with them. Let that gruff guard just take her away, and off. She told me not to worry, not to care ...

"But how can I do that Mezzy ...

"I stop caring ...

"That would mean I'm dead inside ...

"And then They've won."

A small head bows, a tall purple pointed hat slipping over her eyes. The little gnome takes off her hat, to hold it tenderly in her lap.

"Can't they see?"

She dabs her cheeks, with the hats pointed tip.

"Cutting off fingers ... Master Veras, Miss Felena ...

"I ... I don't understand. How could that happen? Master Veras, I know, he was a bit loopy, and so very dramatic, and he walked the finest edge. But he taught me more about how to be a warlock than anyone. Me. He ... helped. He took in a little lost girl. He was someone whom a somebody could care enough to call Father.

"I can't remember what my father looked like Mezzy.

"And in the end, though, with the great corehound's breath upon us, I could always trust, that Master Veras, he was at my side. He fought with us.

"Can't they see?"

Troubled eyes close again.

"Miss Felena is so kind. She always has a nice word to say to us. A blessing. For both of us. To both me and you, Mezzy. She's even one of those paladiny type folks. Who are always supposed to do whats right and honest and be all upright. The kind of person a little girl is supposed to look up to.

"Mezzy ...

"How can my friend ...

" ... kill my friend?"

The little warlock cuddles her hat to her cheeck, crumpling the enchanted felt.

"Can't they see?"

A swallow, as Nellisynthia leans back, to loose herself in the blue magics of the protective voidwalker, for a moment, for a heartbeat, safe. Mezznuz, he roared, brandishing his talons to the midnight air. His mistress was hurt, but where were the demons, the monsters, the gnolls and bandits for him to rend, to make it all better?

"I can't even find her, to talk to her ...

"To ask ...

" ... why?"

She turns her head, to look up.

"We can see it, can't we?

"Mister Fizzlepocket and the Strider Gnome he hates. Miss Meris and the mean old Hound. Miss Felena and Master Veras. The blood that seeps into the ground at Alterac Valley, the bones scattered in Warsong Gulch.

"And every day I risk my heart, my soul, to rescue you away from the claws of the Burning Legion, so you can know a moments peace, that there is something more to life than fire and crimson.

"So you know someone cares for you.

"Even if its just a nobody like me.

"Can't they see ...

"That each time we hurt each other, each time we strike ourselves down, each time we drive a sword between us, spill our own blood ...

" ... They smile, they know, that they have weakened us. Why send an army of demons to ravage the world, to break our kingdoms, to turn our cities into halls of green glowing death ...

"When we can do that very well to ourselves all by ourselves?"

Her questions go unanswered, the only return the howling of a hungry wolf, the squeal of a little bunny caught and slaughtered by a snowkitty.

"Is it wrong to care, Mezzy?

"M-M-Miss M-M-M-meris, she asked, after so long, how could I still be so innocent.

"My hands covered in blood."

Her gaze falls

Her hand rises, to touch a demon' s bracer.

"Oh Mezzy ..."

Tears freezing upon a little girl's cheek.

"I wish ...

"Sometimes I wish I was normal ...

"And not ...

" ... just crazy."

... some truths you just can't escape.