• Squittles and Emiily sat on a cold, frost bitten bench outside the Goblin-run inn at the foot of the Storm Peak mountain ranges. The two gnomes, unburdened of their heavy armor and weaponry, let the cold air slowly chew its way through their thick winter clothes and numb their flesh.

    At least it would if Emiily could feel anything besides the cold. The ever present chill and reminder of her pale skin, faded hair and glossy eyes never allowed for a moment to pretend her time working for the dreaded Lich King was just a nightmare. Emiily hid her jealousy as she watched her younger sister's pinkish cheeks slowly burning into a peachy blush, breath still warm enough to make whispy vapors as she exhaled, and pushed thoughts of her growing depression out of her mind.

    The gnomes had been there for a while. What was there left to say? As the story goes Emiily had abandoned her post and Squittles in fear of the Troggs and left her to defend herself. As things in Gnomeregan worsened and Squittles was forced to watch in horror as her husband gave his life to buy Squittles time to escape, Emiily was committing herself to a master that promised he'd teach her to know no fear. Emiily gave herself over to that dark master willingly and all too late realized the full price she had payed.

    Squittles sighed and turned her gaze from the snow just inches below her feet. The sun glinted off her silver hair, the neatly tied buns nudging her ears out slightly. Emiily recalled when they were younger and they would braid each other's hair. She recalled rolling through their father's workshop, wrestling with her sister, and she remembered for the first time in a while the reassuring sound of his voice.

    Emiily tried not to think of Gnomeregan. She had called it home once, a long time ago, and she couldn't in good conscience say she didn't lend a hand to its downfall. She knew first hand she had hurt someone.

    Squittles, eyes fixated on the spinning wind chime atop a nearby goblin's roof, motioned to blow a bubble despite the gum in her mouth being far too tough to chew let alone blow. Emiily tried not to think about the silence, and all the time Squittles had spent drinking and crying and seeing priests against her will. Emiily tried not to think about her sister's time in mercenary groups to numb the pain of losing everyone she'd cared about.

    Instead Emiily focused on more recent events. Emiily reminded herself that Squittles had forgiven her. Squittles was getting married again having met a fanciful gnomish man that impressed her with his mind-bending sorcery. Squittles was happy and the Lich King was dead. The world had accepted and, as well as it would, forgiven Emiily of her sins.

    But Emiily, try as she might, couldn't forget the cold. In the hottest sun and forge's fire, all she felt was numbing cold. It pierced her through and through leaving only the frigid shell of who she once was.

    A sharp wind pushed a group of Goblin explorers back inside their shack, waiting out the short knife from the northern peaks. Squittles kicked her feet anxiously, nose now as bright as her cheeks.

    "I think I'm done fighting and killing."

    It took a moment for the sentence to sink into Emiily's mind, but as it took shape she began to reel in shock.

    "But you're a warrior! It's what you do! You've always been the fearless soldier in the family! 'For Gnomeregan' and all that jazz. Why stop now?"

    "I don't want to be a mommy and a killer at the same time. I can't figure that out, it's one or the other but not both, you know?"

    Emiily hadn't even thought about that. In her world there was only the drive to penance, the pursuit of vengeance and the eternal cold. Her sister, on the other hand, was busy thinking about raising a family. Emiily noted her growing jealousy and the possibility it could over take her depression in terms of her strongest emotions.

    "Yeah. I'm pretty tired of killing. I'm tired of killing dragons and giants and demigods and demons. I'm tired of killing wizards and robots and freaky bad-guys with funny hats. I'm tired of murdering the people nobody else likes because I want their stuff. I think I'm going to retire. Maybe if we get Gnomeregan back some day I'll apply to be a city guard again. I mean, I've got the experience, we both know that..."

    "I remember those days." Emiily tried to hide her nostalgia. The last thing she wanted was for another conversation about how she needs to cheer up.

    "Grigory thinks he might get a job with the Kirin'Tor. Then we might get to live in Dalaran." Emiily didn't want to look up from the spot in the snow where her feet managed to sc@!%@ the ground. She didn't want to look up and meet Squittles' gentle, almond eyes only to expose the pain behind her own glossy, paled orbs.

    Emiily pulled herself out of her self pity just in time to feel the nudge in her arm.

    "Hey, I'm still talking to you."

    "I'm sorry, what's up? I was kind of fading out there."

    "You ok? I mean, apart from being all... dead-ish..."

    "Ever since the Lich King fell it's been like an anchor was pulled up in my mind and in my soul. I feel like I'm drifting and the current is pulling me further and further out to sea. I don't feel like anywhere is my home anymore. I don't know what I am now. By extension I don't know who I am."

    Emiily finally turned to face her little sister. She looked her in the eyes and paused as she allowed her focus to shift completely to the moment. She wanted to say something, to explain the empty void inside her, the sickening hollow sensation she felt pinging in her chest like the dripping of a faucet. She wanted so desperately to just go back and show herself how to truly be courageous in her greatest time of need.

    But Squittles broke the focus. "Emiily what do you think you'll do now? If you have all those questions then shouldn't you be answering them?"

    Emiily stared her baby sister in the face. She looked cold. Her nose was running like it did when they were little and they'd play outside too late into the evening. Her brow slanted slightly as her eyes spoke of the worry she carried for her wayward sister and Emiily recalled that same look when she'd first tried out for the City Guard. She wasn't much older than Squittles, or taller for that matter, but she definitely wasn't stronger. Squittles had always been the strong one, both in body and in spirit, and it was now that Emiily realized how much she'd admired her for it.

    Emiily leaned over and hugged Squittles, disregarding the fear of her tears freezing. Squittles didn't seem to know how to respond and simply returned the hug with an awkward pat on the back. Through the sobs and whines and stares of onlookers Emiily poured out to Squittles all the broken moments of her life and all the built up jealousy. Emiily told her of the listless wandering below a sky that felt as if it were the only thing emptier than herself.

    All the while Squittles listened. She listened and waited as her big sister poured out her torn and tattered soul, unleashed her broken heart and emptied her woes. Squittles waited until the tears seemed to be done and the sobbing shake of her form ceased.

    "Feel any better?"

    "A lot actually. Thanks."

    "You need to unwind a bit. Like, get away from all this frozen hell hole crap."

    "Yeah, no kidding."

    "I know a guy, lives in Ashenvale, who grows these little sweet pea things. I don't remember what they're called, but I call them sweet snaps because they snap when you bite them."

    Emiily fought down a giggle at the rush of cheer climbing through her spine, along her ribs and into her sides. She knew Squittles didn't know magic of any sort and took heart in the knowledge this was a genuine feeling of happiness, however slight.

    "I can help you find that guy and I can talk him into helping you a bit. He helped me in a huge way."

    Emiily smiled before hugging her sister again. It had been so long since the two had been close at all and it felt a little weird to rush it all, but it seemed like the most appropriate action to take.

    The gnomes hopped off of the bench and continued their conversation inside the tavern as the sun began to set. Leaving the crimson tendrils of light peering through the mountains behind them, the gnomes discussed a vacation for Emiily and their plans to reunite in some time. They spoke of a hopeful future, joking about the possible names Squittles would give her kids. And as the evening dragged on and the two found it was time to part their ways, they said their farewells and made promises to write. With a tearful wave, and a nod from Squittles, Emiily was off to the sky aboard her deathly gryphon steed.

    ***

    Some time later, as Squittles recovers in a hospital bed after the traumatic events of the Cataclysm, Grigory is handed a letter with a familiar emerald seal. Dreading the news, he stoops low in his chair and reads the contents of the message. Cradling his head in his hands and fighting back the tears of exhaustion Grigory begins to contemplate how he'd explain this to his wife when she wakes up. He figures it's likely best to just tell her straight; Emiily is gone. She wasn't counted among the survivors.