The follow-up to: http://www.argentarchives.org/node/2558

A while later, the opening in the fog emerged again. Albie tumbled out of it and fell to the ground, shivering.

The creature arose and eyed the gnome with a look bordering on pity. It spoke once more.

"You Have Faced Your Past, Your Present And Your Future. Now You Shall Choose".

"C-choose whats?", the curled-up ball of gnome whimpered.

The creature turned and made a series of swift sword movements. Two new openings emerged in the mist.

Albie untangled himself and wobbled to his legs. Through the first opening he could see a pair of elderly gnomes, smiling, always beckoning. It was his parents.

Through the other he saw himself lying in a bed, scarred, pale, looking lifeless. Pandy lay beside him.

Albie looked confused and scratched his chin. Whispery wafts of the mist floated past him as he pondered. Finally, it looked like the first rays of dawn emerged in his mind.

"You be meanings... Albie can be goings backs?".

"You Shalll Be Given The Chance. What You Do With It Shall Be Up To You."

"But... Albie can be goings back, and everythings be as befores?"

The creature inspected the gnome with its trademark curious look. Then it pointed toward the first opening, where Albie's parents glimmered through the mist.

"Only One Thing Shall Be Certain. Go Through Here, And You Shall Pass On. No More Hurt. All Joy. Loved Ones Thought Lost Shall Await Here."

Turning gently, it indicated the other opening.

"Go Through Here, And You Shall Be Given A Second Chance. No Promises. Possibly Chaos, Strife, Violence, Hurt. Yet, Possibly Also Good. Old Friends. Love. Happiness."

The creature cocked its head, attempting (and failing spectacularly at) a reassuring smile.

"Very Few Have The Choice. You Shall Use It Wisely".

Albie looked at the two openings again. He felt drawn towards his parents. Embracing them and leaving the wartorn world of Azeroth behind would surely be the wise thing to do.

Stilll... the visions he had seen behind the wall of fog had shaken him. He still had tasks to do, wrongs to right and accounts to settle in his old life. Would passing on really relieve him of the things weighing on his mind?

Choices... Always these hard choices.
--
Doc MixilPixil approached Albie's body and prepared to say farewell to his old patient. Thinking back, he smiled sadly. Albie had been a good and regular customer. Not only did he need a steady supply of painkillers for that bum leg of his. He was also often in need of medical care for the odd gash and wound.

The Doc had always been surprised that Albie managed to pick up most of his wounds while in town. The usual explanation was that a precise hit to the head by a gnomette's boot, more often than not following one of Albie's experimental chatup lines, would leave nasty marks on just about any surface. The Doc had made mental notes of this for future treatments.

Gently pushing Pandy aside, he leaned over the body with a solemn look. Then he frowned. He leaned over the body and inspected it closely. Then he turned around and scowled at the crowd surrounding the body.

"Have none of you bleedin' amateurs taken the first aid class in Theramore? I tell you, there is still life left in this one!"
--
A gruelling medical scheme awaited. Doc Mixilpixil had to apply all his medical expertise and quite a few experimental treatments to restore Albie's torn tendons and ligaments. But a few months after his unfortunate run-in with the Stormwind wildlife, Albie was again able to walk. Limping into the streets of Stormwind, he was ready to pick up his old life.

Was he really, though? Hadn't he been given enough pointers toward the needs for change? Wasn't this the time for old deeds to be corrected and mended?

Choices... Always these hard choices.