((AN: Another little ditty from World of Warcraft. Galerunner is my 70 hunter on Thorium Brotherhood. Copyright Blizzard blah blah blah don't sue me.))

Serendipity - A Coming of Age Story
A World of Warcraft fanfic
By Kristin Renee Taylor

Part 8 -

Death had come to the Barrens.

The landscape stretched away from her, grayness as far as the eye could see, transforming the lush golden savannah into a desolate wasteland of nothingness. Half-glimpsed shades flickered in and out of her vision. Shadows danced in a fatal waltz, the participants unknowing and unseeing of the startled Tauren youth in her midst.

Was she dead?

The logical conclusion was yes, as she seemed to be a ghost herself. Her vaguely translucent hands no longer had weight. The grass poked up beneath her hooves, undisturbed by her presence. And there lay her body where it had fallen, pinned beneath the corpse of the satyr. A pool of liquid, black to her eyes, surrounded the two bodies, although who's was whose was anybody's guess. She could not even tell if she still breathed, nor could she move the satyr to check.

Around her the Night Elf and the wolf continued their fight against the three remaining satyrs. She could only see in flashes of movement: the satyr's lunge, the wolf's dodge, the Night Elf recoil as a wicked gash appeared in his side. The arterial spray of black blood as the elf struck so hard that he almost took his opponent's head off.

Elf and wolf seemed to be doing fine without her. And so, since she really couldn't do anything to help, she sat on the grass, well away from her body. She pondered death.

Truth be told, this was not how she expected to die. She had always figured she'd go down defending her family from marauding centaurs. Or from old age, surrounded by many, many grandchildren. Or in a baking accident.

This, though? This was kind of anticlimactic. Staid. Dare she think it... it was downright boring.

A soft chuckle. "You are not dead, Mikala Galerunner Fartotem. Although you are closer than you might like."

She leaped to her hooves and turned around.

How does one describe a god? How does one see the creator of not just your race, but of your entire world?

As a towering pillar of fire that put the sun to shame?

As a Shuh'halo warrior with eyes of flame and black armor and a crystal sword of such brilliance that it could cut starlight?

As an amused and teasing wolf?

No, just a lanky Tauren youth in some dusty clothes over her brown and white fur, the only colorful figure in this strange gray and lifeless landscape.

They stared at each other, the ghost and her double, colorless eyes fixed on dark blue.

"You're me!" Galerunner the ghost finally exclaimed.

The Earthmother laughed again. "Not quite, young daughter, not quite. I just borrowed your shape just a bit, that's all. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, not at all, Earthmother!" She tilted her head. "Although, I am most curious why you chose to impersonate me?"

"Well..." And for a rather amazing moment, the goddess of creation looked a little petulant. "I had been meaning to reveal myself in your dreams. You have come a long way on a journey of self-discovery, and I was fully prepared to reveal to you the meaning of your existence, and the path you were meant to take in the world. However, that damn Elune got here first, and insisted on using you to help that elf of hers. Cited dietic necessity and some such nonsense." Fists on hips, the Earthmother scowled up at the heavens. "I got her first, you long-eared twit!"

A peal of thunder rumbled across the plains in reply.

"Hah! You couldn't hit the broadside of a kodo!" The Earthmother glanced at the youth. "She talks big, but she's really a big softy. And nearsighted as a goat." She cackled.

"Uhm..." Galerunner wondered what the punishment for interrupting a god was.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, young one. I'm as old as Time itself; I'm entitled to act a little senile if choose to do so."

"O-Of... course, Earthmother..." Galerunner stammered, wide-eyed.

"Now, back to this 'death' business. As I said, you're very close. The satyr's knife was poisoned, you know. Nasty stuff there." She clucked her tongue. "Simply awful. I'd cure you myself, but, then you'd start to believe that you were immortal. Like that damn Hotaur." She wagged a finger at Galerunner. "You stay away from him, young one. He's crazy. Or will be crazy, I'm never really quite sure. Time was never my strong point."

"Er..."

"I WILL, however, get you out of this jam that SOMEONE saw fit to place you in. As your death would fall under a certain moon-loving tree-hugger's jurisdiction- and she CERTAINLY does not want to deal with you in the afterlife- I'm going to bring you back to life. More back to life, rather. Take care now, young one!" And she snapped her fingers.

Galerunner's body, her ghostly one not her unconscious one, jerked so hard that it felt like every insubstantial bone in her form had suddenly snapped in half. Grey haze surrounded her, cold fingers drawing her back into unconsciousness.

She struggled against it, clinging to the quickly fading image of the Earthmother. "Wait! Earthmother! My purpose in life! What path am I to walk?" Her voice, to her ears, sounded strangely distant and flat.

The Earthmother, however, had already turned away, walking towards a road of light that stretched to her sky. She glanced over her shoulder. "What? Path..?" A hand waved in dismissal. "I don't know... go be a hunter or something. Stop bothering me and go back to sleep."

"Okay." Galerunner did.

Fin Part 8