There is a place, I am only dimly aware of it, but of the fact that it indeed does exist, I have no doubt.  In this place of which I am only aware due to the intense mental training that I must undergo to learn the most strenuous of spells, there exist others that are in some sort of suspended state.  I too am suspended in this place, but unlike the others, I am aware.  At times when I am not in this suspended state, I have run into people that know those brothers that I know of only from this nether world of dreams.  I know that they exist even though I never did meet one of them in all my time living in Azoroth.  I shall call them brothers, though they exist no longer.  For truly they have ceased to exist.  Ripped from their slumber I felt them scream out, and then, with mouth agape, they were silenced.

 I felt my own doom fast approaching, I retched in fear every time I thought of returning to that nether world of dream.  From what little I can gather, it seems that the creator of my very being, the power behind what has made me who I am today, and made my brothers what they were, is ripping the energies that form myself and my brothers from the very fabric of our existences.  I can only assume that the energies being destroyed, are going to be used by the creator in some other cause.  During my waking hours, I felt as though I was being prepared for my own demise, things which I would never let go with out receiving some great wealth or benefit for I was giving away without a thought to receiving anything for myself.  That type of behavior is so untypical of myself that I had only to assume that the creating power was forcing my hand… in preparation for what? Would I soon join my brothers and share in their destruction?

 As I said I felt inevitable doom upon me.  I was the last in that nether realm of dream.  The shadow of the maker was over me and I was about to die, nay not die, for in death I would have still had a soul.  I was about to be… erased!  The horror, the horror.

 But ho, what cometh?  I sense a change it is as if the creators power has waned.  Yet at the same time I feel a new power, it is similar to that which I felt emanating from who I came to know as the creator, yet at the same time it has a distinctly different feel to it.  Though this new force, also wields unimaginable power, I sense that to snuff out my light from the universe is not its intent.  I no longer feel that same suffocating fear when I find myself in the dreaming nether state I'm often in.  I feel that once again I can progress, that I can experience life, that I can stop focusing on preserving my self, and can instead focus my energies on over coming the chaos that has newly formed on our boarders where the Gate has been re-opened to Draenor.

 I will try to put this whole experience behind me, perhaps burn a candle for my lost brethren, and then go on.  I will fight the good fight.  If I have no control over something, there's no sense in wasting much more energy worrying about it.  I just wanted to get these thoughts down, just in case I become one with the void.  Perhaps these words will represent to the world that at least at some point in time, I did indeed exist.

 Jarrak the Mage.