... dominoes ...

She stood in the shadow. Cool, quiet, between two half timbered buildings in Stormwind town. A narrow space, tall, the combination of ancient stone and weathered woodwork a well ordered architecture beneath skys of blue. For a moment, as she looked out from her alleyway, across the paved boulevard, where a nearby bridge arched over the crystal waters of a canal, it was like looking into a different world.

A few children played there, laughing, pushing, teasing. Gathered about a collection of small painted wood tablets, corners worn like battered armor ... their painted symbols scuffed and faded, so much like heraldry upon a warriors shield that had seen one too many bloodied melees.

She couldn't help but smile, just a little one, she allowed herself as she watched something she never had ... as she watched them play.

It was just past noon, the sun high in the sky. It glittered across the canal water, diamond sparkles chasing each other like playful puppies, the light stained with green as it sipped through the canopy of a pierside elm. Bright and safe, as if Shadowforge, as if the Wrymbog, as if Nethergarde and the dark gate that keep watched over were no more than a dream, a somewhere else.

Tween shadow and light the small gnome lass stood.

Her place.

She raised her hand to her forehead, pushing up the brim of her pointed hat, to shade away the glare of the sunlight, quiet eyes blinking once, then twice. Her shelter, her shadow, was of her own company. One the afternoon could not banish. Taking a half step back she was swept up into the voidwalker's swirl of deep cobalt and midnight black. Her arms wrapped about her waist, and she hugged herself.

Her attention, it shared the same earnest intensity of the little ones she watched. Studious, as the children laughed, as the painted tablets rattled-clap-clapped when with a push they fell upon each other, one after another after another after another.

Until, like children wont, something else caught their attention. And with a scramble, a tug back and forth and a catch me if you can they danced off along the narrow waterway.

Only then did the young warlock step from her narrow hiding place. A hand tugged one pigtail, just above a polished bolt earring, as she was wont to do, when considering. Crouching, half kneeling, she let her fingers slip over the abandoned tablets, slowly drawing them to order upon the cobbles before her.

"Oh Mezzy ..."

She whispered to her only companion, words quiet as she picked a tablet up, turning it over in her hand. A small rectangle of wood, painted white. Divided into two squares, each with a symbol old painted upon it. One for each dragon flight, one for each of the peoples - humankind, dwarvenkind, the night elves, the orcs and tauren and trolls - a token for the lovers true, Tyrande and Malfurion ... even an icon for the betrayer, Illidan.

"Is it all just a child's game?"

The little gnome drew another tile up. Turning the two around until they lay next to each other, matching symbols from one tablet to the other now adjacent.

"We have walked with the Marshall out from beneath the mountain black. Stood against the Blightcaller upon the hills of Marris Stead. And today, today my robes are stained with the blood of Lady Prestor.

"And still ...

"And still we are the ones who have no choice but to haunt the alleyways, and you, Mezzy ..."

Turning, the Alliance warlock looked up into her fiercely protective voidwalker's eyes.

" ... I need you to watch over me here just as if we were walking through Nefarian's halls."

Carefully, very carefully, the little gnome began to set up the small tablets, standing on edge, all in a row, perhaps half a thumb apart. One by one by one, one after another after another after another.

"Sometimes I can't help but think. Is that what they want? Is that where they will us, and by their shunning and their curses, teaching their children to hate us, to give us no choice for belonging but within the Burning Legion's arms?

"Every day, every night, when I steal you from the Legion's grasp, Mezzy. It's my choice, Mezzy.

"And with it, all the consequences that fall from it ..."

Slim fingers hold, for a heartbeat, as she looks at the long chain she has created. A line into a swirl, a simple mirror of something more complicated. Perhaps a life.

"Sometimes I can't help but think. Do they understand that? The consequences that fall in an unending chain from but a single action.

"A child's game, Mezzy.

"What if ... what if there was one of our kind. Who walked the streets of Stormwind, as you and I do.

"Until cursed upon one too many times ... until there was one too many stains of spit upon their cheek ... until one too many barkeeps refused to set up a drink - after being shorn by sword and talon to protect that very same innkeeper.

"And they did then turn their back upon the people of Stormwind.

"By the Great Gear, Mezzy ... it would be so much easier. It would hurt so much less."

The young warlock closed her eyes.

"And in the end, it would come full circle.

"Somewhere, somewhen, in the field of battle. Be it the deserts of Desolace or the halls of Shadow Hold. A felhunter's teeth would rend the nether and flesh, and fire summoned from the Legion's hells would burn out a brave Stormwind soul."

Quiet eyes slowly opened. And a single finger tapped the very first tablet set up.

Clitter-clap clip, the dominoes fell, one after another after another after another.

"How could you explain to a heartbroken mother that her child was dead, for the want of a cold beer?"

She rose and slowly walked away, hugging herself so tight ... not able to bear to see the last tile fall.

A few heartbeats later, her silent voidwalker followed.

There is an old saying. Be careful for what you wish for. It might just come true.