Thunders were wrecking his flow of thoughts.

The years of shamanism couldn’t suppress what was going through his head.

Even if the Pandaren were trained to meditate in violent conditions, the last battles that Elmynt fought gave him no peace.

The Primalists, the ones who sought to remove all Titan influence of Azeroth, were way too drastic in their means. Destroying generations of dragons. Forcing their ways on anyone who was remotely interested in the magics that came from other worlds.

Still, some parts of their mission made sense to the young shaman.

The elements came naturally to Elmynt.

They came naturally to our home as well.

Even if mages controlled the arcane, and warlocks fiddled with the demonic fel, at the end of the day our world consisted of fire, water, air, and earth.

At times elements may have been chaotic and disruptive, but eventually, they balanced each other out.

The sole purpose of a shaman is to yield elemental power to even the scales.

But now the Pandaren was fighting fire with fire.

Something that felt alien to his instincts.

As Elmynt dwelled on the words whispered to him by the Dragon Queen, an image of Ner’zhul flickered through his mind.

The orc shaman who betrayed his own kin to gain power.

Power that was distant from the ways of the elements.

Power that corrupted him and led him to his demise.

Something hinted that both forces of the Alliance and the Horde were headed in that doomed direction. We were all fighting against creatures who were Azeroth’s residents for millennia.

“Why are we fighting the ones who carved this world? Why are the titans insisting on this so-called “order”? Even the Void and the Light have their essence scrambled around the universe. Chaotically. In no specific order. And they are both beautiful and frightening for this very reason. Why are we fighting to chain the elements?”

As the shaman kept dwelling on these thoughts, his meditation was broken by a cry of help he heard from afar…