I am so very tired. Eighty-two long years in this world. In the mind of an elven lord or the dwarven smith, this is not so long a time as but the drop of a leaf or the fall of a hammer. As a human though, we feel prone to burn bright the candle of life, till finally the wick ends.
Born I was, long ago, in the region known as Gideon. My father was a woodsman by trade, my mother a mid-wife. Ah, but I remember our little home set back in the forest. I can hear by the cool brook, where I so often bathed as a child, babbling and bubbling as it runs over patiently polished rocks. Many a time I would come back, following the smell of birtch smoke as it coiled out from the chimney. There stands my mother, smiling that radiant smile from the doorway as she dries her hands. I know what that smile means. Father is off to town again, selling herbs and some extra furs. Today we're going off to study again.
I follow her, as always, to our special little spot half an hour from our house. Lord Arinow showed her it. Mom says that he personallay safe-guarded the place from what he says "prying eyes." She always tells me to be careful with my gift. Says that people wouldn't understand my gift, would want to hurt me or use me for it. That's why Lord Arinor tells her to help me understand. He says one who can wield the "silver fire" is touched by the gods, but many people would be afraid of it.
So this was my childhood. In my adolescent later years, I would work for my father, but always there was my time spent just my mother and me in our special spot.
Later in life, I left out on my own and took up the arcane arts as well as traveling with various companions. Ha, how young and spirited we were then. Olan, Taravish, Kelson, Tellsa, and I. Invincible! We would make names for ourselves and each be our own lords with holdings in Lloleyn. This we did too, at least to an extent. Companion's of the Wolf's Head we called ourselves. Kelson and Taravish came up with it during one particularly celevratory night at our favorite tavern. I can still remember the tavern's owner, Ol' Farabin the Wolf's hardy laughter as we toasted to our new name. During thos times, I was known as Bastion "Silverhand." Ah! The many adventures we had! I remember one of our last the most. The one I met my lovely Elaverynn.
Twenty-seven summers had I seen then. We were heading back home from Dhoesone to Lloleyn. Olan and Taravish were sitting around the fire, playing a game of bones, while Tellsa and Kelson sat around talking of what they would do when we got back. I decided to go off to a nearby pool to bathe. Upon arriving there, I saw her for the first time, my beautiful Elaverynn. The moment I saw her, her beauty, her delicate face, with skin so pure the moon itself would feel envy, I was hers. When she saw me, she darted quickly to the opposite shore were lie her clothes. She did not flee but gripped white-knuckled to a dagger pulled from the bundle. I drew away my eyes, trying to stammer out some forgotten apology. When her melodic voice returned to me in its odd and shimmering laguage, what I would later learn as her native elven tounge, I again looked up into those starry pools of her eyes and saw in them the same sparkle which I must surely have had. Hesitantly we began to converse and I turned away to allow her descency of clothing. In the silence following, my heart hammered in my ears, for surely she would take the opportunity to flee. Fear gripped my heart as I slowly turned. There she was not but two arm's breaths away! She didn't run! Oh Gods and Goddesses above! Please let this not be a dream! She haltingly stepped toward me and before my mind could recover, we were in each others arms, lips pressed in desperate need, like the drowning man clingsd to the wood wreckage to stay afloat. That night, we lay together. With the moon and stars as witness, I pledged myself to her, always.
Eventually, I retired from my companions, having now the only treasure I would ever need. My Elaverynn and I lived many long blissful years away, only the two of us in our small home I made with my own two hands. Those will always be the fondest of my memories. Our only regret was to never hear the sounds of children. Elly was unable to bear children. It was because of this, what she always would cal her shame, that she left the elven lands. This unfortunate disease took her from me seven falls previous, and and now she rest at the base of her favorite tree not but seven strides from the place we shared and loved each other.
Now I am in the fall of my life and the cold of winter begins to chill my bones and cool my blood. However much I miss and wish to be reunited with my beloved, I must carry on for a little longer. For troubled times rise again, and in memory of the Companions of the Wolf's Head and for the love that Elaverynn and myself shared, I will ride our on one last adventure. |
