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"Some roots go deeper than fire can reach," I replied, stepping into the light of the Moonwell. Check out Archive of Our Own for more fan-written narratives
"I didn't think you'd return to this place," he said, his voice a low rasp that cut through the soft chirping of the night insects. "I didn't think you'd return to this place,"
The rendezvous was unplanned, yet it felt inevitable. We spent the night talking not of wars or politics, but of the small things lost in the grand theater of Azeroth. We spoke of the way the wind sounds in the boughs of Nordrassil and the specific shade of purple the sky turns just before dawn in Darnassus. In that unexpected meeting, the weight of the past seemed to lift, replaced by a quiet understanding that even in a world broken by conflict, some bonds remain as steadfast as the World Tree itself.