Lost

Lena's journal lay under her arm on the crate she had made into her desk, her head nestled in her gaunt elbow. Her eyes were closed, sunken from exhaustion. The pages fluttered in the wind of the mountains of Kun Lai blowing in from the open flap of her makeshift tent. The writing was jerky and disjointed, an extreme deviation of her normally flowing, loopy script. A glowing stone sat nearby, and from her belt hung the pouch that held an artifact she could not part with.

I have been in Kun Lai for what seems like months... The light moves differently over the mountains, so I suspect it may be nearing spring. I haven't traveled much since we were relieved of duty after the Battle of Kun Lai. I led Shadows to Binan Village, made sure they were settled untill Allianace forces were ready to withdraw again... and then somehow found myself back in the caves and crypts where we had fought. The voice eminating from the puzzle box seemed stronger there, and somehow led me there without my knowledge or consent.

 

I have managed to travel to the Isle of Thunder. The archaeologists assisting me have spoken of the activity there. I explored tentatively, coming to blows with some of the sauroks, but ultimately needed to return here. I did, however, find a stone on the body of one saurok that... spoke to me. 

 

I feel I am going mad. The box that I dug up in Northrend years ago taunts me more each day, and now another inanimate object is inserting whispers into my stream of consciousness. There is hardly room for my own thoughts anymore.

 

I know there is a connection between all these things. The Old Gods, the Sha here in Pandaria, the whispers. The Old Gods have been whispering to mortals and immortals since time began on this planet, in this world.

 

But why me? Because I am a researcher? Because I dare to try to unlock their secrets? To find their weaknesses?

 

I miss Krastos. But I fear what he will think to see me like this, to find out what I've been hiding from him. I know that Shadows needs me, but I feel as if I am compelled to continue this search against my own will.

 

There are scores of other things I would rather be doing. But it taunts me. Horrible things, terrible words. The worst, I fear, is " You resist. You cling to your life as if it actually matters. You will learn."

 

What does this box know that I have yet to learn?