The Reunion

"Have you ever read Once Upon The End?" -The Author

***

Once upon The End, somewhere in the cosmos, entities bigger than planets are building a house of remembrance.

As the people on the ground are waiting for the building to be finished before they go inside.

They wait, awkwardly, shuffling and making small-talk in the wasteland.

Everybody's here, you were here. As the night was over, and the day began.

"Where am I?"

"You are here, back home. On Azeroth."

"Am I dreaming?"

"Not quite."

"This is home? I mean, I somehow know it is but… it is strange. I know Azeroth as I know myself. I know this city. But it is not, isn't it? "

"Watch. Wait. You'll see."

"That person…"

"Shhh."

"But he's dead. And that's… this is wrong. This is all wrong... who are you?"

The mourners took their seats, one by one, without hesitation or question.

No one directed them, but they walked to their own seats and sat down, as quietly and efficiently as if they'd been rehearsing for this moment all their lives.

The people moved as if their every move were foreordained.

As if they had no true will of their own.

As if every action was written in a 'book' long ago.

But which 'book'?

And the last of the multitude took her, or his, or its appointed place.

Finally, the ceremony began.

"That is… the jeweled city Zin-Azshari?"

"Yes. Very good."

"But it was destroyed... or will be destroyed... more than thousands of years ago. This is… why are we here?"

"Why? We never left."

Some of them spoke, and some of them were silent.

But we do not need to recount every moment we had.

After all, each one of us was there.

You may have forgotten, in your waking hours, what you experienced that day.

But you will remember it, in the soft, lost, slumbering moments between The Waking and The Dreaming.

Remembering the whispering voices of the old gods, the piping laughter of innocent children, the frightened rustling of cold demise, the voices of the living, and the voices of the dead.

"I'm seeing it all. I'm seeing it as they describe it. But it never happened like this."

"Shhh. Just listen."

"It's so familiar… but… that wasn't my Death."

"No, it was your Death."

"This is ridiculous. I can feel myself-"

You are surprised when, without any gentle transition, you are now standing upon a bridge.

Has the Dream become a bridge?

Was it always this way?

Or have you left the Dream far behind, on some dark transitional journey?

You cannot tell.

"So I am dead?"

"No, not yet. Not fully."

"Are you Death?"

"I don't think Death is a person."

"Then tell me who you are. Tell me what's going on."

"Why don't you figure it out?"

"I am attending… I seem to be attending… my funeral. And they are telling each other stories about me. Each of them tells the story of a different life, a different Death. It's like a Dream, but it's not a Dream. I… I don't know what it is. And I am not alone. There's someone here with me. A woman, I can't see her. It's as if she's standing just beside me, or all around me, talking to me… she says I'm not dead. I'm not certain I believe her."

Before you had mistaken for a casket is now, unquestionably, a boat.

"Have you figured it out?"

"Not yet… that boat. That was not there before."

"Does it matter?"

"I think so. I want to go there. It feels right. And yes, I think I figured it out. It's strange. I know who I am but I don't quite remember which version I am. I don't remember if I'm one of the ones they talked about or not. I don't think it matters."

Now the woman in the dress talks to you all, as they step on the boat before it begins its passage down the slow stream.

"This is what the brain does when you're dying, isn't it? This is what they call a Near Death Experience. It's classic. Meets all the criteria. Despite what I've witnessed, I feel serene and calm. My life is in replay over and over. Even though it's never quite my life… is it? So I'm not dead."

"Not yet."

"But I'm close to it, aren't I?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. You're very close. In between The Dreaming and Death."

"Another thing that happens in a near-death experience. You meet relatives or friends. And… I know you. Don't I… Mother?"

Her words make sense of everything.

"Yes, you do."

She gives you peace.

"So are you real? Or just something else that's happening in my head, just after The End?"

"Is there a difference at this point?"

"I guess not. It's too subjective."

"Exactly, so what have you learned from your funeral?"

"Learned?"

"Yes, learned. Not many people get to attend their funerals. You must have learned something."

"I've learned… that it doesn't matter what the story is, because even when they aren't talking about me, they are. Because in one shape or another, they're a part of me, as I am a part of them. I sometimes fall in battle, saving something precious to me. Sometimes it's a small ironic, unnoticed death. I die rescuing a child from a fire or fighting in a field of battle."

She gives you meaning.

"Everything stays, but it changes. I am Zevrad. I am both Demon and Mortal. I lived my life as best I could and I get it. I mean, I get it. The End of the story. The story of Zevrad is, I die, because, in The End, I have to die. What else am I supposed to do? Retire? It doesn't work that way. It can't. I fight to drop until I drop. And one day, I do drop. But until then, I fight."

"That's right. You do. You fight until it's done, and then you die. Until then you keep fighting. Because you have to. Because you can't stop it from happening again. Despite how many lives you try to save. I still remember you by my side, reading. I didn't see a lot of happiness in my life, but you were my happiness."

"It all started in Zin-Azshari. With the Demons. It's not a battle, it's a war. And it never ends."

"It always ends. It's ending right now."

"Okay, this is my near-death experience. Am I going to come around? Wake up on a hill or bed again?"

"I don't believe so, not this time. But I'll always be here for you."

Then they are floating, bodiless, high above the world.

"Are you ready to let go now? To move on?"

"To go to my final reward?"

"Yes, do you know the reward you get for being Zevrad? Is that you get to be Zevrad. And… when you're a child and young… you get a handful of years of real happiness, with me. It's more than some people get. You're done, now. This time. You can stop fighting now… for just a few more years."

"Mother?"

"Remember the story I used to read by your side at night? It's just like that. You remember. It's time for you to say goodnight. Say it…"

And, as if in a Dream, you can do nothing but watch.

"Goodnight, House."

"Goodnight, Zin-Azshari."

"Goodnight, Demon."

"Goodnight, Master."

"Goodnight, Steed."

"Goodnight, Daughter."

"Goodnight, Lady."

"Goodnight, Hound."

"Goodnight, Wanderer."

"Goodnight, Apparition."

"Goodnight, Wildmist."

"Goodnight, Wicked."

"Goodnight, Memory."

"Goodnight, Gloominous."

"Goodnight, Azeroth."

"Goodnight Stars In The Night Sky."

"Goodnight."

"Goodbye."