<Atop of the Caverns of Time>
*.. You find yourself on top of the ruins of an elven building. A quick look around quickly tells you that it must be above the Caverns of Time, given the entrance to it down below, the abundant amount of sand and the sea just near it. A younger Arithdormu sits peacefully next to you, right next to him a weary and old looking human traveller.. *
„Oh great Bronze Dragon.. I’ve travelled now far and wide in all my lifetime, I’ve seen places many would love to see but perhaps never get to experience. I learned much on my travels and taught an equal amount. Yet what I never understood, is how the flow of time works. I can tell you why the leaves are falling and the sun is rising, but such a question is one I never found an answer for. Would you be able to help me, wise Bronze so that I may find peace in your answer?”
The old man asks the Arithdormu, his eyes looking up to Arith. The Bronze Dragon just calmly keeps on looking towards the sea, inhaling a soft but salty breeze while a chuckle escapes him.
“Oh, human.., I once asked myself the same. I was clueless, but there was someone explaining it to me, so that I never forgot why there even is time.”
Arith spoke in response, as you see him taking in a deep breath, before breathing it out again. The sun is seen at the horizon, slowly beginning to lower itself so that the two moons of Azeroth and the night can take its place in the firmament in return.
“We cannot pause time, to begin with. It’s not reachable for us, it’s not a thing we can just so carelessly toy around with as many would assume. If it wouldn’t be for time itself, nobody of us would ever be here. There’s a reason why many of us call themselves ‘Timeweaver’. Time is the yarn with which the world is woven. Time is fabricated, and with it, its creations. All the events, be it a crime or the coronation of a king, are made by time. Time is the material with which the universe was made. But time can’t exist without the universe either, as then there’d be nothing to be woven. Now, a Timeline would be a stack of woven yarn – time – and with each occurring event another layer stacks upon it. May it be a different colour or a different fabric but this stacking piece of yarn is now our timeline. But it’s not the only string there is. Infinite amounts of string. Every single one a different fabric, a different colour and even different lengths and sizes.. They all grow and enlengthen parallel to one another and growing in a different pace, but growing nonetheless. It’s what we call Timelines. Whole universes running next to each other in which different events happened and happen. I am speaking to you right now but we are not n here but on the gates of Orgrimmar in a different timeline. Or this chat never even occurs . It is all a coincidence.”
The Bronze Dragon told the old human. Meanwhilst, the sun’s setting was progressing ever so well, creating different shades of orange and red tones which extend themselves above the nightsky and the calm, resting waters. The sea seems to be asleep already, not even the slightest wave is breaking. Last rays of the sun shine and reflect on the mighty Dragon’s body, the always so bronzen scales now shimmering in a strong golden hue.
“Time twists and turns, the strings split apart whilst being woven, only to be brought together again and form a thick, strong bond. We as the Bronze Dragonflight see to it now, that nobody on Azeroth damages our timeline as we are. There are many threats, namely the Infinite Dragonflight that meddles with our time blurring through the strings, to change what has happened and shape Azeroth to their own liking.. But we have to preserve it, so that we keep on existing and that time may go on on its intended way. ..Perhaps, you can see that more clearly now, human.”