I put off writing about this whole ordeal for a week. I didn’t want to rant. The rage still lurks in the shadows of my mind but, for now, I have it on a leash and under control.
You see, last week I spent the majority of my time scouring news sites for any update about a little girl in China. As my husband’s shoulder can tell you, I spent at least 20 min every evening crying and sobbing because it felt like the world made no sense. I’d lost my faith in humanity. For whatever reason– because it was major international news or because of the moral indignity– I thought there would be more… I don’t know, stuff?… on the story throughout the week on a micro (e.g. Facebook) and macro (e.g.major news corps) scale.
But there wasn’t. I had to dig and search for something. Anything. Even just a “Nothing’s changed,” sort of post. It seemed like this was the story that everyone missed. The story that everyone overlooked in favor of other things.
When word finally came that the little girl had died from her injuries on Friday morning, I cried some more. I dedicated my Facebook status to her. All week, I kept thinking to myself, “If this were Warcraft, I’d hop on my drake and find a way to save her.” This wasn’t Azeroth, however. This was Earth. I’m just me: not a tricked out hunter, or armored paladin, or even a humble priestess.
I tried to focus my attention forward. Friday was also the start of BlizzCon. “I’ll look forward to that instead,” I thought, but my brain kept going back to it. When they finally announced Mists of Pandaria and the Pandaren race, for whatever reason, I kept hoping they’d make some sort of acknowledgement to that little girl. I didn’t want to be alone in my microcosm of sorrow and grief. But, on the other hand, I had no right to drag others into it, too.
Much of my time afterwards, admittedly, was spent playing with my daughter and posting comments about the latest from BlizzCon to WoW Insider. But my brain kept churning, thinking; it just wouldn’t let it go. Then I came back to my status about slinging a bow over my shoulder and embarking on a quest to save the little girl. Since I tend to see connections in everything, I thought it was no mere coincidence that this story would end right as Pandaria was emerging.
The first thought that popped into my head was petitioning Blizzard to make a Pandaren child NPC based on little Yue Yue. I chickened out of it, naturally, as I talked myself out of it. She has no connection to WoW, for starters, and I couldn’t figure out if her parents– if they ever caught wind of it– would approve or not. So, scrap that thought.
And that’s when I finally figured it out. For all of the quests and dungeons and raids that involve killing and ensuring the safety of the world by eliminating a threat, there were a few quests that involved saving a life. The sick girl in Ashenvale on the Alliance side came to mind. Then I thought of Crusader Bridenbrad.
I could do something about this whole thing. I could write.
If I couldn’t do anything about Yue Yue then or now, I’ll be damned if I didn’t write it all out. I’d said in a perfect world, I would save her. So I’ll make my own perfect world and make it happen. Her fate may be done and over with here on Earth, but I won’t let her story end there. This won’t be the end of her legacy. As a mother, as a writer, as a gamer… How could I do anything else when nothing will give me peace?
For a while, I seriously considered if I was going mad. I mean, think about it: I have no idea why this story has affected me so much, why it means so much to me, or why I want other people to care about it. All I know is that there’s this feeling in my chest like a deep, weeping wound on my spirit. There’s a word in Chinese that perfectly describes how I feel… Literally translated, it means “heart hurt.” But it’s much deeper and more cutting than heartache and sorrow combined. And I need to get that out. (Though, if I am going mad, I’d like for someone to tell me before I go too far.)
Immortality is one of the gifts that writers, photographers, and other such skilled artists impart upon others. It’s our duty. We take an idea and make it into a reality, even if that reality has no bearing whatsoever on real life. It’s a pocket dimension that grants wishes and performs miracles.
So. This is The Quest: a story about a lone blood elf hunter who is hellbent on saving the life of a little Pandaren girl.
I’m still figuring out whether I want to publish episodes of the story here or start another site that’s dedicated to the story and only the story, so as to reduce clutter. I haven’t started writing quite yet… Mostly synopsis and outlines and all of that good stuff. Hell, I don’t even have a working title for the story yet, short of “The Quest,” and that just sounds silly. Oh, on a slightly related (and happier) note: I’ll find a place to post my short story, too– the one I wrote for the contest. I could use Deviant Art but I’ve long since forgotten my login information. If you’ve got a good idea, I’d love to hear it!