"It's over, Yaedaien. It is time to return home and take
you're place. You are Crystalbourne of Felwithe, and you will return."
A light mist clung to the forest of Faydark, occasionally coalescing into small
droplets and falling to the forest floor. Yaedaien Crystalbourne's eyes remained
fixed on the rachitic pile of moss covered stones. Both his hands were planted
firmly on the loose, damp soil below. "I will not be returning, father. My
descision has not been altered."
Adaewelieu's face grew dark with a fury lit rarely, and then only visible to his
son. "I am Lewu'taar n'Crystalbourne, First of Felwithe, and you will return
home with me this day! She is gone, my son. What did you expect of this? What
had I told you! She was human, and it is done. You will return, this Tunare
expects, this I command!"
"I do not follow Tunare any longer, father, you know this. The peoples of
Norrath need us as much as the land. The people bleed, father, while the land
grows fat and dark intentions fester in the lands of men."
"Blaspheme! This is what becomes of you, my son! You've turned your back on your
people, on Tunare, on Felwithe--"
"Enough!" Yaedaien sighed and slowly began to stand. "She was my light, father,
and Mithaniel has opened my eyes to what stands before us, and what needs to be
done. Judge me as you will, but you will not speak ill of her. We know
where your power lies, father, and your tongue will not stay my wrath here,
should you evoke it. This I swear. I am versed in the way of pottery. Tinia
tought me well, and mother has given me the basics of the jewelcraft. I will go
now, father, and learn the world. I must do this thing."
The two elves stood facing each other over the marker stones. Eyes locked, both
grieving a loss the other could never comprehend. A light wind rose out of the
east, stirring the leaves and brining the scent of newly churned earth to the
elves, breathing new life into the quiet morning. Small woodland creatures began
to reclaim their land, foraging and hunting, chittering at the elves standing
immobile above them. Yaedaien knew that his father could not give, and so turned
and began to walk away. As he came to the path, and turned out towards the
Dwarvish city of Kaladim, and ultimately the docks and the rest of his life, he
turned back, one last time to see his father, perhaps to call out to him, ask
his forgiveness. A trait he'd picked up from his Tinia. His father was gone, and
the grave already blending into the earth around it.
He sighed, strapped on his bag and headed out to his future, free of Tunare,
free of Felwithe. His only duty to those who needed help, his only mission to do
right by the people of Norrath and bring peace to both the land and its people.
He was already quite old by human stanards, but his life, his experience had
just begun. He was a child to Norrath and the road ahead lay long and hard, but
thankfully full of wonder as well as terror, friends as well as enemies, and
hopefully, in time, love...
