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Chapter One - Old Habits
I am somewhere in the Barrens, and I am out of my fucking mind. My sister Shivala, who is very dear to me, has quite recently informed me that her innocence had been taken by a Troll. Some sort of slave catcher, or something. It doesn't matter, I am going to kill it. Kill it and dump it somewhere putrid for it to rot in the muck. The look on her face when she said this... Anyways, I went back to Stranglethorn and did my best to retrace her steps. It took a combination of educated guesses, my former training, and what she told me to finally come upon a deserted campsite. The fire was barely put out and the imprint of a bedroll was still fresh in the dirt. It turns out that it had packed and gone to the Bay very recently, by what the tracks told me.
However, this Troll was more cunning than I anticipated. He spotted me and immediately identified me by my resemblance to my sister and, admittedly, I was staring at him with daggers emanating from my eyes. He had many friends, oh so many friends, and their professions got him safely spirited away on a boat. My own job was very difficult, now. Goblins are very secretive when one gives them money for silence. It took quite a bit of my own coin to figure out that the troll was bound for The Barrens. No doubt he wished to lose himself within Horde territory, somewhere I could never enter. And indeed, I shouldn't be here. I'll be dead within the next three or four days, most likely, unless I can get back into the shelter of Ratchet. Not likely.
Right foot, left foot. Slide left, jump forward. Circle once. The Troll certainly knew how do disorient his tracks. Double back, swing around. They were everywhere. Then they ended. However, Safksha Shadowedge could certainly guess what had happened. Kodo prints from there on went in a definite direction: forward. The troll had hitched a ride, and apparently thought that the animal tracks were enough to overlook. Close, but no cigar, buddy. Safksha smiled in triumph and began to follow. Some time later he came upon a cave. The kodo prints went onward, but then a separate pair of tracks detached themselves from the line and went into a cave. The troll must've separated from his rescuer, thinking that it was far enough away to no longer have worry. Smiling at his good fortune, he stepped into the cave.
First impression? It was dark. Dark and drippy. Blip! Blip! Blip! There was no noise. No heavy troll breath, no crackling fire, just: Blip! Blip! Blip! And yet Safksha knew it was here, lurking. He could smell it, mostly. It smelt as most Trolls do, like shit. The stench surrounded him, wafting up his nostrils and making him grimace. Blip! Blip! Blip! That god damned dripping. Why couldn't the Troll be more conspicuous?! This was getting tires-WHAM! Safksha flew backwards, clutching his face. A very large branch hat hit him in the face and it was now bleeding profusely. It's a miracle he didn't lose consciousness. There was the Troll, gloating in its surprise victory. The gloat was short lived, however, as he very quickly was back up on his feet. He drew his blades, fire in his eyes, and diced the log up into little bits.
Typically, the Troll started begging.
"Mon! Ah din't meene tah dyoo eet! Please, dohn't!"
But Safksha Shadowedge just smiled.
"Sorry. Old Habits."
Now i'm drowning myself in booze in some backwater tavern in Ratchet. Can you really blame me? I haven't killed anyone in a while, and the light going from a creature's eyes is not something you get used to, even if it's a creature you despise above all other beings. I only wish I hadn't taken my time with it. Perhaps just beheading it would've made things better, satisfied my bloodlust. But no, I had to cut it the f**k up and then throw the pieces to the lions. It makes me sick because, above all things, I enjoyed it. I ENJOYED killing it. If Eva were there, she'd have ran from me and never spoken to me again. I-
"Turn around."
A chill ran down Safksha's spine. He knew that voice, and that voice meant 'Not good.'
"-Turn around.-"
He turned. Oh yeah, it was him. Urelle. He made a snarling face.
"I thought you were too racial to put a toe out of Ashenvale, old man."
His dearest Grandfather furrowed his brows and looked just about ready to pull his ears all the way back to Darnassus. And he made a move as if to, but restrained himself, merely saying:
"I came to get you and Shivala. This is but a brief foray."
"Oh, 'a brief foray' he says." He now actually snarls. "You seem to be under the impression that I actually WANT to go back with you. Did it not sink into your thick skulls that I hate all of you?"
"Irrelevant."
He was now on his feet, his voice rising. "NOT irrelevant! YOU made Shivala like this, YOU made her a self destructive rage spiral! YOU did it!" With each you, he made an accusing jab of his finger.
"I loved her, and you -will not- speak to your elders such."
"Yeah, well, your love made her almost kill herself. You can get stuffed."
He looked down, going back to scratching down his experiences and life stories and shit, but the irritable old man would not be ignored. Yes, he was now being dragged via ears by surprisingly strong hands, Urelle ranting all the way.
"We wanted you to be a druid. We wanted you to do your race proud! But no, you had to be selfish. You had to run away!"
He managed to get away from the grip, rolling back up onto his feet and kicking at Urelle's chest. But he had forgotten one thing: He was up against an extremely powerful druid that could beat him with a finger. Urelle simply swat his leg away with his staff and, now that Safksha was off balance, fired a blast of nature energy into his chest, sending him to the ground. That sure was effortless, and thus Safksha felt very angry and very pathetic. Roots sprang up and bound him in place.
"Contrary to what you may think, I do care for the both of you. But you test my patience. Will you come back with me or not? I will even teach you the ways of the druid. I will teach you the wonders of nature. I will teach you to be a proud Kal'dorei."
Safksha sighed.
"You're not giving me much choice. Oh well, let's get this over with."
I'm on my way to Teldrassil, the Great Tree. The Old Man is pretty adamant on this. I might even be able to let go of my past misdeeds with all this druidism crap. Or i'll end up dead from trying. Oh well, it's best not to tamper with fate's loom. I'm on my way to my destiny, or my doom.
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Chapter Two - Home
I am somewhere on the western sea, heading for the Great Tree. The old man is enjoying one of his rare moments of sleep, which is good because it finally means peace of mind for me. Seriously, I thought druids OVERslept due to them messing around in the Dream, or something. But ever since the old man came to get me, I always wake up to find him contemplating life or some shit in the corner. Of course, I can't really talk. I only get about two to three hours myself. I hate sleeping. My dreams are awfully perverse and severe, and I remember each and every one of them. It's a wonder that I sleep at all. But that's not important. I started writing these as a journal, not for talking to myself. Therefore, I am on my way to begin training in the druidic arts because the hard-ass with his eyes closed next to me wants me to. I don't know what to expect upon my return; we passed my childhood home rather uneventfully, after all. Perhaps the clan moved to Teldrassil after I left, or something. Either way, i'm in for a long and rough adventure. And I don't like it.
"We're here," Urelle said softly, his eyes fluttering open.
And so they were. The boat was already making its round around so that it may dock. The little bounces caused by hitting the waves had lessened, and Safksha Shadowedge shivered. Not shivered because it was cold, but because this would be the first time he stepped in Darnassus since he was a child. Which was a pretty long time ago. But there they were, walking slowly into Rut'theran Village. He rubbed his eyes, looking upward. That was one big damn tree. He had almost forgotten it's gargantuan size. One wouldn't even believed such a monstrous thing existed until seeing it with their very own eyes. What a sight it was. It rivaled the mightiest Dwarven gem, the most splendorous Human statue. It was a testament to the power of nature, but also it's beauty.
It was early in the morning. Darnassus had barely awoken, save for the odd skittering Treant and pair of glowing eyes off in the bush to the left. Barely anything moved. Nothing made a sound. Safksha would look around, taking in the wondrous city before him.
"It seems... quieter than I remember."
Urelle merely looked around, in quiet acceptance of his surroundings, such as was common with Druids.
"It's been a while since i've been on... pure soil."
Safksha raised an eyebrow, but Urelle merely kept walking, making for the Cenarion Enclave district. His past was igniting in a fiery throb of memory. He was a little boy again, and their parents had, for some such reason or another, left them home for the day. Shivala was running through the trees of Ashenvale, not far away from their home, and he was chasing her. She was laughing. She laughed so rarely these days. In those days, they climbed and ran and laughed and sang. Everything was simple. Everything was 'pure,' to use Urelle's words. Everything was awesome. Now? Shivala goes out of her way to end her life, his past haunts him at every corner, and he is hunted by his family, urged to submit to their ways and their customs. And he was agreeing. Such was how it had to be.
"This way. Your training will begin as soon as possible."
He nodded absent mindedly, to swept up in his memories to be truly paying attention. They passed a Treant, but he didn't notice it give a little croak in it's wooden tongue. They passed house after barracks after druid sanctuary after moonwell, and again and again Safksha was tormented by memories of a better time. He merely grunted in answer to Urelle, continuing to walk and, inwardly, hurt. Urelle stopped, quite suddenly. So suddenly in fact that it took Safksha a second to stop himself. They had come upon quite a large stump. Nothing glamorous, just a giant stump. In Human lands, such a stump would be revered, and everyone would say "Isn't that the guy who used to have a monster of a tree in his backyard?" Not for the Kal'dorei. To them, it was just another home. They went up the steps and inside. Somehow, it became a great deal warmer. No doubt the elves enchant these things with their magic to make a stump of all things feel homy. Go figure.
They went to a chest on the far end and opened it. Urelle would remove a robe similar to the one he was wearing and throw it to Safksha.
"Don't use human clothing in these lands."
Safksha looks at it. It was a long robe, using a mix of cloth and leaves intertwined to make it. "Must I?" He sighs. "Very well."
He dons it, rolling his shoulders as to ease into it. Smirking, he allows himself a small joke. "Now all I need are the antlers and we'd be spitting images." He was, of course, making a jibe on the antler horns sprouting from his dearest Grandfather's brow. They complimented his appearance, actually. Made him look serene they did.
"...Cute. Come."
They left the house, walking back across the city in a roundabout fashion. Safksha contemplated on how much they looked alike. They could be spitting images if Urelle didn't look so old. He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. Nevertheless... they came upon a spot by the lake, another Treant passer-by scuttling and creaking.
"This... Is good to start. For now. Sit down." Urelle lay his staff on the ground, softly, next to where he is.
"Take a good, long look at what is around you."
He sat, looking out onto the water. Bending over, he'd take a cup of water with his hands and sip it, returning to his original stance to follow said command.
"The River. The trees. The lands. We leave them as untouched as we can... And this is as similar as you will get to the emerald dream in this plane. Close your eyes. Try to keep this image vivid in your mind, and connect to it. Realize yourself as one with it, not an individual part of it. The nature all around you... Life, given to us. A blessing to enjoy every night and day. This is what we are sworn to protect, and to worship. To become one with."
Safksha crossed his legs, taking a meditation posture, and tried a little harder to calm his nerves. One must understand that ever since he left his home his life has been nothing but turmoil. Just one session of meditation will hardly ease it. This could take ages. No pressure.
Then, a hand is placed on his head. A surprisingly warm hand, warm and gentle. He'd catch a soft greenish light from beyond his closed eyes, and he let out a pent up breath. "Relax, Safksha, as if you were about to sleep. Let yourself go... Just think about the nature... the bond that connects all living things."
He began to take very long breaths, every fiber of his being fighting against his body in an effort to relax it. Suddenly, his form becomes much less weary. He smiles.
"Now... Remember where you're sitting, but in your mind. See yourself as a bird, there." He pointed to the middle of the lake. "And fly through the scene, seeing every little part, inspecting every small piece."
Safksha allowed his mind to stray, immediately following every command given to him. So fragile was he now, so vulnerable. And yet he was not discontented with this. He loved it. He felt more at peace than he had in a very long time. He began to 'float' away, so to speak, rolling his shoulders and doing best to feel where things are. They all looked like a shining white mass that was life. Except for one thing, an expanse of shining blue in front of him. This, obviously, was the water.
"Take a sip from the lakebed. Remember it's taste."
He immediately does as he's told. He physically smacks his lip, as if trying to taste something. Which, of course, he was.
"Do you see, Safksha? This is what druids... fight to protect. The beauty you picture in your mind. Open... your eyes."
He does, wincing as if he had not seen real light for a while.
"That was one of the most beautiful things i've ever done. Is this what you feel all the time, Grandfather?"
"No. I feel... an even greater beauty...For I feel all... of nature." He'd make a sweeping motion with his arm.
"I envy you."
"You may have seen me as... cold... in the past, Safksha." To put it lightly. "But you must... understand. Our people... ravaged, destroyed, by our own kind, aren't used to trusting... outsiders. I did, and still do... what I believed to be best. I want you and your sister to be happy... To feel... the happiness I could feel in nature."
Urelle nodded, content with his dull speech, and with a half-smile on his lips. "For today... It is enough. Tomorrow... The rest of nature... Along with it's wrath."
Safksha grimaced. "Lovely."
"You will simply see.... What nature does when enraged."
He picked up his staff again, and they returned to their stump. By now, Darnassus had been awakened and most of them bowed respectfully to Urelle. Safksha wondered what it was to be one of them, an Arch Druid. Such respect they command. Such fear they master. Is that what the old man intended for him?! Only time would tell. They reached their stump, climbing up into it's insulated walls.
"Sleep," Urelle would command.
He would nod, looking around. He didn't see any bedrolls or anything, Elune forbid, good enough to sleep on. However, he did not dare to ask if they would have proper bedding, and simply lay down, opening his journal.
The forest within a tree. It's beautiful. Nature is beautiful. It is odd, when I ran away I was scorning nature, scorning life even. But here, with the old man in our own little stump, I feel at peace for the very first time in a long time. I feel... happy. Such happiness seemed like a drug at first. I came out of that trance with a slight headache, too. But I grew to crave it, want for it. Such feeling at all times must be truly wondrous. I'm addicted to nature, if there is such an affliction. And yet, so much is expected of me. I bet the old man wouldn't hesitate to kill me if I didn't pass his whole 'entering the Emerald Dream' crap. I must devote my very being to this. Elune, what have I gotten myself into?
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Chapter Three - The Balance of Nature
I am somewhere nestled not uncomfortably in the Great Tree. Our Stump has surprisingly roomy quarters. I mean, it's a stump, of a all things. And yet we manage to pack a rudimentary section of kitchen, living room, and bedroom respectively. There are no walls, obviously. Privacy seems to not be an option here. But we don't have our own bath anyways. I believe i've seen the old man stalk off to a river near here on occasion. Perhaps that's where most Kal'dorei get their business done. That or they don't bathe at all, I don't know. It's been so long that i've been with my own people, i've forgotten their customs. They could see dirt and muck on their bodies as a healthy connection to nature, for all I know.
The dreams were awful last night. I had hoped after feeling Nature's grace I would be able to sleep well. I was wrong. I dreamt I was trapped under a huge weight, struggling to lift it, while everyone else I knew and had ever known stood around me telling me what a failure I was. Then, of course, SHE came. Why did she have to come -every- damn night? She didn't speak. She never speaks. She just gave me the same pleading stare she gave me when she died. It makes me sick, and I wake up with a cold sweat and a beating headache. This will kill me one day. I just know it.
Nevertheless, today we ate a simple breakfast, mostly nuts and berries, though with a few breads as well. Apparently good meat was hard to come by here, or they're all vegetarians. It isn't inconceivable, after all. And now we're preparing to set off again, on a new adventure. Wrath, today, if I recall correctly.
And so they were. Urelle stood, now prepared for the day with his staff at the ready and his robe completely settled. He had recently jabbed Safksha awake with the end of his staff and made him get dressed, and they had eaten together in silence. Neither wished to know about the other's night. Apparently the screaming Safksha sometimes woke up doing was enough to dissuade Urelle from prying, and Safksha himself simply didn't think Druids dreamt of anything but the Emerald Dream.
They set out soon after, adopting a quick pace. They always got up early enough to have few people passing by, and as usual the only thing that he saw were the few elves like Urelle who got up at ridiculous hours or a Treant. They walked through the center, around the bear tree that was their bank. Safksha turned to the side, intending to ask a question on what exactly they'd be doing today, but he was given no reply, as it appeared his dearest Grandfather had shape-shifted into a cat. What a sneaky one he was. Urelle growled. He then nodded towards the bridge that led out of the city and began to sprint, indicating for Safksha to pick up his pace. Safksha replied in kind, and they were off, too fast for a normal elf due to Urelle's form and Safksha's training. They sped through Darnassus, passing the army camp and the croaking Ancients. Once outside of Darnassus, they ran along the path before diverging to a small expanse of grass, Screechers fluttering and Sabers lazily basking in the few rays of light given to them. Urelle changed back to his human form.
Safksha panted lightly, wiping his brow. "Was in front of you for a second, there." Naturally, everything was a competition for the still young elf.
Urelle scowled. "Irrelevant."
He then lay a hand on a tree, nodding silently to himself as if affirming himself in his mind. "Now, Safksha. I told you I was going to show you... Nature's wrath next, didn't I?"
Safksha nodded to him. "You did."
Urelle walked slowly up to a Screecher. It allowed him to approach, as he was an Arch Druid. It seemed as though Arch Druids exerted an air of benevolence around animals. They calmed around him, felt reassured by him. He lay a hand on it. "Forgive me, Brother. For I'll have to inflict you harm for the sake of teaching my Grandson."
Safksha gasped as Urelle's hands lit up in green energy, roots creeping up from the ground and pinning the bird down, strangling it slowly to death. "You would kill a harmless creature of nature for my benefit? No..." Given his recent connection to nature, this was not ludicrous to think he'd say that.
Urelle pointed at the bird, it's life now fully ebbed away. "Pay attention. It is all part of a cycle." He grabbed the corpse, throwing it at the near Nightsaber stalker. The animal snatched it up it and ran away, probably to eat it at a safer place. "Nature is a caring mother... But at the same time, a merciless foe."
Safksha bit his lip, holding back a retort with the -greatest- of restraint. "Y.... yes, Grandfather."
"Now. Safksha. Understand nature has an order. Animals hunt other animals. We shouldn't disturb that order. It is for their own survival. The owl would have been killed by the stalker either way. It is why I choose that one to show you."
They began to walk again, and Safksha's mood recessed even lower. How could needless killing be good? How could the death of a creature, so bright and vibrant, be a good thing. Nature is a cruel and hurtful woman. So he thought as they came upon a decidedly darker area of the woods. Webs were strewn about. Over the trees, between the rocks. Numerous scuttling Webwood Spiders went about, wrapping up entire Screechers into their storage area, laying eggs in their own individual webs, or just sitting there, watching the two elves enter their community with glittering orbs that had an almost sinister intelligence about them.
"As for these..." A scowl formed onto his face. "Spiders and snakes are the forms druids of the Nightmare choose to take. Some druids decide to take on the poor animals for that, but... We have to learn humilty on this matter."
Safksha looked at the spiders intently. "They are more decidedly nightmarish, one must admit."
Urelle would shake his head at that. "No. Remember this, Safksha. The most devious form a druid takes is his own."
They pressed on, apparently done with the spider colony. Just in time too, more and more of the fiends were taking notice of the 'intruders.' It wouldn't have been long before they tried to attack them. Nevertheless, Safksha was confused. How could that be? Weren't Night Elves supposed to be the epitomes of sincerity and kindness?
Safksha finally blinks several times, perplexed. "How, Grandfather?"
Urelle walked on, looking around at the display before him. And what a display it was. Great oaks towering high, bushels bearing fruit, and chittering birds fluttering around. This was their mating season, it seemed. Finally, he replied, "You have to forget your sense of self and merge with nature. Your own form gives you paths to fuel arrogance. You can be arrogant to others if you like, but not to nature. We are unique in our eyes, and that makes us weak. For in the eyes of Elune and nature, Safksha, we're all the same." Urelle glanced down, his bare feet imprinting little marks into the grass. "You and I are no more important than the grass we step on."
Suddenly, they came upon, if possible, a darker area than the spider glen. Shadows writhed around, surrounding a gave of malevolent intent. These shadows appeared to sense the two, receding slightly and even making little hissing noises. They receded fully into the cave, and then dark creatures could be heart against the stone. It was like a nightmare come to life. Pitch blackness, and a madness approaching you the likes of which you cannot escape from. Then it came upon you, and you fell into shadow.
Black, gnarled Treants came out of the cave, malformed and evil, tainted by unknown forces.
Urelle grunted, "Remnants of the nightmare. This was a bad day to leave Shadowedge in Teldrassil."
"No kidding."
Urelle nods. "Fair enough, Safksha. I'll show you the power that nature wields. Stand back."
Urelle calmly walked towards the trees. He pointed his palm at one, sending a blast of nature energy at it, the tree stumbling back. Before the other tree can even move, roots grow from the ground holding it in place. Urelle stares at the tree in front of him calmly, waiting for it to move. As it tries to attack, he twirls the staff in his fingers, hitting the branches away with easy and smashing the tree heavily on the trunk. The staff breaks, the tree falling on the ground and wiggling. He sighs. "Cheap..." The second tree rushed in, after stumbling before of the bolt. Urelle simply nodded at it, a tornado enveloping it as he calmly walks past.
A deep roar emitted from the cave, and the sound of huge footsteps shook the earth. Hands laid themselves on the sides of the cave, as if prying it open to allow whatever monstrosity lay inside free passage out. A horribly demented creature rose out, mushy dead plants hanging from its sickly green body. Urelle, however, looked at it calmly. "You... must be the source."
Safksha could feel power emanating from Urelle. He got down onto a knee and grasped a root with all his might, winds in the area picking up and buffeting his hair.
Urelle merely glanced at the creature. He spreads his arms wide, shape-shifting into a moonkin. It tries tries to attack him, but Urelle effortlessy swats it way with a wing, the tornado growing and growing as Urelle fed it power, and wrath. The wrath of nature. It descended on the creature, making it crash against a tree. The tornado died down as Urelle turned back around, walking towards Safksha.
Safksha raised an eyebrow at his Grandfather, dusting off his shirt and letting go of the root. "That... was frightening."
Urelle 's form began to diminish in size, him turning back into what he is. "What was?"
"Oh, you know, the whole 'summoning a tornado' thing. Just... a little unnerving."
Ever humble, Urelle replied, "Malfurion Stormrage, when saddened by the lost of his mate... created a storm so great out of raw feelings alone, he nearly killed all of our troops."
Seems like the kinda thing the most powerful druid ever to have existed to do.
"That I do not doubt. However, you were impressive nonetheless."
Urelle shook his head, sighing at the loss of his walking stick but nonetheless throwing the pieces away to decompose. "If I had Shadowedge, I would not even need to rely on nature. But that would be counter productive. Now you have seen both sides of nature. Care, and Wrath. Balance. I took you here out of your own will as I'm aware. But now I give you the choice. Do you wish to walk on the path of your own desire, or walk back?"
Safksha, in an effort of extreme devotion, and to demonstrate his choice, sank into a kneel and spoke as if to a master. Odd, but appropriate, no? "I am willing to learn if you still have teachings to be taught, Grandfather."
Urelle nodded. He'd smile warmly at Safksha for probably the first time in his whole life, at least a true smile. "I.." Urelle is clearly holding back a tear. "I am truly glad to hear this, Safksha."
Safksha would give a playful smirk to Urelle's tear, ever joking. "Don't go crying on me, old man." He soon becomes sincere again, however, truthfully saying, "I am finally glad that one of my family has found me."
Urelle shook his head, returning to his harsh self. "...Indeed. Let us return, now. Your teachings will continue after you meditate on your own. Once you're able to connect to nature without my help, we'll proceed."
And so Safksha left for home. It appeared as though Urelle had business elsewhere, as he didn't follow. Upon returning, Safksha immediately opened his journal and wrote a single sentence, a smile touching his lips.
Perhaps the Old Man isn't so bad after all.
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Chapter Four - Horror of the Past
I am somewhere under the great oaks of Teldrassil, munching on a root. This particular root is good for relaxing the muscles, and I have hunted down a bushel of it in preparation for my meditation. Before the effects begin, and because I need to pass the time, I have decided to write here for a while. The old man is still nowhere to be found, and i'm beginning to get annoyed. It's not that all of his time needs to be devoted to me, I just hate connecting with someone and then getting left in the dust, y'know? I just hope the bugger comes back to finish what he started. Now that he's given me a taste of what is to come, i've become somewhat of a giddy schoolboy. I crave to learn. I crave to master. I crave to mend the wounds of the past and reconcile with my racist family. Because, you know what? Being racist as fel doesn't make you a bad person. Fel, I might be able to mend their racism a little bit. Training's hard, though. You don't exactly make someone who's whole life has been turmoil calm down -that- quickly. Indeed, i'm actually surprised i've found the measure of peace I have in the short amount of time i've been here. The Old Man sure does work his magic fast. I feel completely reinvigorated. It's like, everything i've ever done has up to this point. To this redemption. But enough of this, the herb is starting to kick in, and I have meditating to do.
Safksha Shadowedge sat in the glade where which he was writing, setting down said writing journal to focus. The idea, to him, was that he had to put the mind under great physical strain and then see how well he could calm it. Then, if that worked, he'd move on to calming it normally, thus connecting with nature, or whatever the fel he was up to. And so, to accomplish this, he cracked his neck, standing up onto his hands.
He sighed.
This was often a game between the mates of the guild-of-which-he-shall-not-name. Who could stand on their hands the longest without succumbing to muscle pains? He could remember those dull days of down time. They often found ways to entertain themselves, be them competing to see who could withstand the most muscle pain (via the handstand game,) arguing over better assassination techniques, or playing chess. Yes, there was in fact an air of civility in this group of butchers. They often engaged in quite intellectual discussions, when they weren't having a go at the concubines or drinking, that is. Safksha's thoughts turned bitter when reminiscing about those sin-filled evenings, and as a result he collapsed, unable to take the mental strain of his past.
"Shit."
Why couldn't he concentrate better? Why couldn't he LET GO. This inability to fully connect with nature by himself infuriated him. Would he always require the Old Man's assistance? That wouldn't do. He might as well quit right there and go back to his life of mediocrity. Almost without intention, he began to wonder if everyone else were as pathetic as him. Shivala, she certainly had strong stuff. And yet, she was so broken the last time he really got to talking with her. She was so fragile, as if the smallest flick would shatter her and she'd immediately throw herself off the nearest building. He got to wondering if that was his doing. He wasn't there to support her. Did she even desire his support? It didn't matter, as he'd always be there for her. Evanova, his love, and his shame. She obviously could take on anything. She didn't really need him, did she? She couldn't. Good looking girl like her was bound to have suitors crashing down the door. He, why he was just a mentally scarred Kal'dorei with an overprotective attitude towards the ones he cared about. Obviously, this was a fault. He'd breath down her neck all the time, she probably was starting to not be able to take it. She's probably glad he's gone. Annabelle, the one he's supposed to protect. She was his duty, his responsibility. Surely she could have found a replacement. He wasn't that important. But then, he was given the charge of defending her against attack. Oh, it was all too infuriating.
"Hang it all! I'm going for a walk."
He bitterly stood, dusting off the dirt that had accumulated on his trousers from having been sitting for so long. Taking a deep breath, he again surveyed his surroundings. Not too bad a meditation spot. It had a boulder, a few great trees, a gurgling river filled with minnows, and a breeze swaying bushel of the very herb described above. The road was not far, about a few meters or so to the left, and thus he made for it, hands nonchalantly in his pocket. He walked along the road back to Darnassus slowly, waving to the occasional sentinel. They made no attempt to smile. He must've looked like a child. The thing about Kal'dorei is you could barely tell how old they were unless you knew where to look. The older ones always scoffed. The younger ones held a mild amusement. That's the problem, isn't it? The elderly are always so high and mighty. They never take the time to enjoy life, do they?
"Ishnu, Brother. I haven't seen you around, and I never forget a face. Who are you?"
Safksha stopped, and turned. The speaker was of an unintelligible age. Female. Sentinel, he presumed, judging by the garb she possessed.
"Just... came to visit with my Grandfather?"
The Night Elf woman peered.
"No. Not just here. I've never seen you at all. Not in Ashenvale, Darkshore. Who are you?"
Understandable. He did look pretty suspect, considering he was walking alone, unknown by anyone, with a dagger firmly strapped to his leg. However, he DID expect it to not matter, considering he thought the Kal'dorei possessed a certain racial closeness between each other. That's what they all led him to believe, anyways. Nonetheless.
"Safksha Shadowedge. I have things to do, though. Goodbye!!"
And he was forced to turn right back around and head back into the forest. He didn't even know why he rushed away.
He'd soon come to regret the choice of leaving.
Initially, walking through the forest turned out a reassuring experience. While blending in quite well in civilized society (due to his training in the field,) he always felt more at home in the woods. Who could blame him? His childhood home WAS in the woods. And he spent most of his days weaving through the trees with his beloved sister.
Next mistake, he turns off the road in an attempt to reach a river, that he may bathe and wash away his troubles.
He passed a long line of bushes, not paying attention until a small movement caught his ear. A single berry bush amongst all the others rustled and jostled. He stopped and turned.
"Huh. Odd."
He dismissed it as some animal, and yet felt the need to aid it in getting out, should it be stuck. Suddenly, a claw flew out of the bush at his face. He just barely managed to stumble back. A formidable furry creature rose from the bush, obviously hiding there to attack when a peaceful herbivore came to partake in the berries. The saber roared and charged, pounding across the dirt with death in its eyes. He was just able to roll to the side, and soon it was on him again. This time, though, he was prepared to take it. As it jumped, he grabbed ahold of it and slammed it against a tree trunk, one of its claws raking open his shoulder. However, this would not last long. As chance would have it, the tree was a decidedly young tree, and it appeared to be tainted, as it was very weak. But it was heavy. Oh so very heavy. He let go of the saber and ran. However, in its foolishness, and perhaps his own, it began to follow him. It crashed down on top of the poor thing. It cried out once, only once, then let out a groan of such a pitiable nature. Safksha's heart wrenched.
Then, the bush rustled again.
"Oh Elune, not MORE of them. Oh... Oh Elune..."
It wasn't more predators. It was something far worse.
Three saber cubs crawled out of there, thin to the point of emaciation. They mewled for their mother, apparently expecting a return howl, as must've been common for their race. But no, nothing. They began to quiver, looking around before mewling again. With the increase of saber population, the food had been slowly drying up in this area. These poor creatures were now left without their final and only means of survival. They huddled together, howling a final time.
Tears leaked from Safksha's face, and he immediately fled, leaving the wretched, horrible things on their own and speeding back to Darnassus.
"Hey! You again! I need to ask you a few-"
He sped past all, making for the Stump. Nobody else mattered. Indeed, he couldn't even see anyone else. All he saw was Evanova, Shivala, Annabelle, the horrible little human girl, weeping at him and beating his chest with her tiny fists.
Next journal entry. Three words, each more blotched by tears than the last.
I....... am....... broken.......
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Chapter Five - Word of a Convert
I am somewhere in the dark corner of the Stump, and have ceased caring. My blood has long since stopped seeping out onto the floor, so i'd guess it's been a while. I've applied little protection to the claw wound, after all. It deserves to fester and rot. I deserve to fester and rot. I've done something truly horrible, and for my crimes I should be put to death. Yes, I have killed a mother and, indirectly, ended three children. A bigger and larger predator will soon butcher the helpless things. And where the hell is the Old Man in all this?! Oh, hello, did I happen to mention your GRANDSON is emotionally scarred? No, of course not. You're too busy having fun in the Dream, or some shit. I feel abandoned, lonely, guilty, and... foolish? Foolish for thinking I could take on this life-changing task with only a demanding Old Man as my aid, the Old Man in question abandoning me eventually to my own resources. Well... no matter... if I must do this on my own, then I must.
Safksha Shadowedge stood, slowly letting the journal he had been ranting in fall to the blood-soaked floor. Somewhere, deep down, he knew that taking his mind off of it was not enough to overcome the emotional trauma he so recently suffered. It was nigh on impossible to, but he had to try. It was far better a solution than facing it head on. Under his breath, he quoted:
"Everything has an alternative solution. Find it. Exploit it."
This was the first thing taught in the guild. Taking something head-on was a sign of recklessness and even stupidity. One always had to be elegant with the people one killed. This leads to less people finding out, less people being any the wiser. If one bantered about one's intentions, they'd be chased out of the city/town/area quicker than they could say 'discovered.' Thus, Safksha's warped mind determined that ignoring it and doing things repeatedly would make the ache in his heart go away. Nonetheless, he bound the claw wound firmly with a roll of bandage he carried with him and rustled around a pantry in the opposite corner for some food. Eating the food helped, if only slightly. The ache was replaced with a bloated feeling. But it did not fully go away, and he hadn't expected it to. He was simply ravenous from having lost so much blood. Understandable, no?
Once finished with that, he redressed himself and trimmed his beard with a dagger. He was mildly surprised that the Old Man had a mirror in the Stump. He looked himself over. Nothing but a still-pale, gaunt face surveyed him back. How awful his emotions had warped his appearance. He truthfully didn't know the two were intertwined so. But there you have it, a man, once rosy and full of left, has been reduced via an extraordinary amount of blood loss, emotional trauma, and overexertion to a state of horrible upkeep. His brows furrowed in disgust.
He did his morning stretches, as if this were a regular day, and went out to meditate. He absolutely loathed the idea of going into the forest today, naturally, but a quick swallow of the dread was enough to semi-harden him. Make that two swallows, he had a lot of dread. The entirety of Darnassus felt like a dream. He was dressed very aloofly, so he received many odd looks, but he minded them not. All he did was glide toward the gates, passing numerous Ancients and Treants and other mystical creatures, but paying them no mind. All he was focussed on was getting this over with, and hopefully avoiding an emotional breakdown along the way.
Coming upon his usual meditation spot, he sat down and closed his eyes.
It didn't take long for him to open them. He couldn't take it anymore! He was going to find them. He had to help them! Getting up, he dashed off into the strangely rounded forest. Finally, he came upon the same glade where it happened. Everything was where it should be. The tainted tree remained, the berry bushes rustled lightly in the wind. And there they were, the three little monstrosities that caused him so much grief. They were innocently playing, no longer afraid of anything, they looked quite happy, even, their mother's corpse not far away in the least. He approached them.
And the first cub spoke, in the voice of Evanova.
"Where are you, Safksha? Off having your own silly adventures? I gave you my love. I gave you my heart. And you abandon me. Why? What did I do to deserve it? What did I do to deserve you?"
"No, I had t-"
Too late, they were already looking at him intently, their adorable, horrible eyes boring into his soul. The second cub spoke, in the voice of Annabelle.
"Join up with my guild, will you? Atone for your past crimes, will you? Then what, leave me to be killed? Leave me without a guard, a protection? I was counting on you, Safksha. Oh, but you didn't even trust me enough to tell me your name, did you? I had to find it out from your emotionally distressed sister, didn't I?"
"I didn't know you enough then-"
They wouldn't let him. The third cub spoke, in the most horrible of all voices. The voice of a little human girl.
"You killed me." Three words of immeasurable pain and suffering.
He was still very young, quite young indeed. But for all his youth he was well trained by The Guild, at least one of the top five assassins there. Why was he so valued? His experience, yes. His ability to track, too. But mostly because he cared very little for humans then. His father had rubbed off on him. He considered them petty squabblers who would sooner stab each other in the back than love each other. And even resort to dark methods to eliminate their opponents, dark methods like himself. The job was easy, they told him. And so it was. Sneak into a Human Noble's house after dark and butcher him. But remain discreet, remain very discreet. He was discreet. He went in, creeping about the walls. He opened the door, and cut the man's throat. However, he let out a grunt before finally giving into death, and suddenly the wife was shrieking in dismay, calling for the guard, calling for the army, calling for EVERYONE. He had grimaced then. Killing women was not his style, and she was a very beautiful woman, but neither was getting caught. So he cut her throat too. For some reason, their throats were full of a lot of blood. Too much blood. It formed a pool in the bed, and their lifeless bodies only added to the horror of the scene.
Then she came. She was more quiet than him, her little footsteps barely creaking the floor. If she were an enemy, she could've stabbed him, wiped the knife, and rolled him aside before he was any the wiser. But no, she just opened the door, little stuffed bear clutched in her petite hand.
"Mommy, why are you screaming?"
She saw the bodies. She saw the blood. She saw him, standing over it all with an astonished look on his face.
She didn't believe it at first. She rubbed her eyes, checking to see if everything was still there.
Then she screamed. And the screaming tore his soul open.
She came at him, pounding her fists on his chest while bawling into his leg.
"You killed Mommy! You killed Daddy! Why?! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?"
Because they told him to....
A single tear leaked from his face, then. What should he do? What could he do? Leave her here to be swallowed up by society's pity, to be hollow and dead for the rest of her natural born life? Live life in an orphanage? Be in the corner? Be the excluded one? No. He slowly wrapped his hand around her neck, and he squeezed.
"You killed my family. You killed them. I was deprived of a happy life. Why? Because they told you someone needed to die. And you believed them." She smiled innocently. Warmly, even. As one would to a friend. "f**k you."
And a sword came through his chest. He looked down, blinking stupidly. He touched it. It was very cold. Very, very dead. He turned around, and there was Shivala. It was she who plunged the sword through him. She was naked, and the Troll whom he had beheaded was right behind her, his arms around her stomach, grinning evilly.
"Happy Winter's Veil, asshole," She said.
And he fell into darkness.
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Safksha jolted awake. He hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep during meditations. Nontheless, that was his worst dream yet. He couldn't continue like that. He got up and began to run.
It was a dream all over again; he was running towards the glade at full speed, leaping over rocks and rivers alike. Then, he came upon the glade. It was just as it had been the day before and just as it had been in the dream. Except the cubs were nowhere to be found. That was odd. He decided he'd search around for the tracks of some big predator, to see if it had been ended without him even knowing. He found nothing, which was more odd. He then resolved to look around the area for them. What he found was more interesting and heartwarming than all other moments of his life combined...
There were the cubs, and they were being cleaned. They weren't cleaning each other, however, another female saber seemed to have seen their distress and 'adopted' them. And a dead deer lay in front of them. They were learning how to eat their prey. It was wondrous.
"Nature is a caring Mother," Urelle's words echoed through his mind, and he smiled.
Noone would be abandoned. Everyone would be okay.
"I have done horrible things. And I acknowledge that. But know this, I will make up for it. You have my word."
And at that, his spirit blossomed. Connecting with nature, you say? Not a problem. He sat down and let his spirit roam free and fly far, touching over the rocks and the trees and the birds in the sky. He felt them all; he was at peace.
I am enlightened.
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Epilogue One - Life and Regrowth
I am somewhere in a... better place. Looking back, I feel somewhat the fool for overreacting over everything that has happened thus far. The cubs are now romping around with each other while their new mother finishes up the scraps of the deer. They look... happier. More well fed, more nourished, more cared for. Not that the previous mother didn't work her paws to the bone, but she wasn't a very successful hunter. Not like this one. This one is powerful and clever, far more suited. She was very gracious to take the cubs under her wing.
Safksha rested lightly against a tree, now doodling surprisingly accurate pictures of the saber cubs. It seemed he had a hidden gift, but that didn't matter. He wasn't planning on becoming a great artist any time soon, after all. He yawned, stretching his legs out just as a decidedly larger cat leaped down from the sizeable roots above. It studied him, and he studied it back.
Silver hair, blue markings. Oh yes, it was Urelle.
His form blurred as he reverted back to his humanoid form.
"How are the cubs?"
Safksha blinked, a little surprised at the Old Man's knowledge of his problems, but he nonetheless smiled. "They are well. The new mother is surprisingly more skilled at hunting than the old."
Urelle gave an approving nod. "I chose well, then."
Another blink of the eyes. And yet so little peeved him now. Nothing could.
"Oh, that was you? Indeed you did."
Urelle nodded again. "You are ready to progress in your training. You will be connecting with nature and using it to perform a task."
"What task, Grandfather?"
The enigmatic man didn't answer.
"Sit in a normal meditative position." Safksha did so. "Now, connect with nature as you have achieved before. Instead, however, try to view it all as a mass of energy."
"A what, Grandfather?"
"Everything in nature is connected. It's all the same life, and thus, all the same energy. If you picture it as such and perceive it as such, you will be able to tap into it. Try."
Safksha closed his eyes and let his mind roam free, as he had done before. But he was either concentrating too hard or not enough, he couldn't tell. His eyelids scrunched.
"The trees... the fish... the cubs over there, happily enjoying their time together... Everything is the same."
Safksha's eyes scrunched more. Finally, he decided to change his game up, as it were. Instead of focussing more, he imagined himself floating upward, higher and higher, as if to view the whole of Azeroth. Except it wasn't Azeroth, far from it. It was simply a light. A green light.
Then, a red flash of pain separated him from this, and his eyes opened. Urelle had taken a large thorn and stabbed him in the arm. Safksha winced as pain tore open his mind, biting down onto his lip but making no noise.
With a wavering voice, he spoke, "What was that for, Grandfather?"
"Heal yourself."
"What?"
"Stop the pain, and make it better."
Safksha closed his eyes again, ignoring the ache in his arm. Trying the exercise again, this time it was more difficult. As he 'ascended,' his mind would always falter and crash back down to the ground. He took a deep breath, clearing the pain away and ignoring it. Then he ascended for real. He was still wavering slightly, but managed to see the light again.
He drew some of it into himself, as if sucking in a breath of fresh air. The pain ceased. He looked down incredulously at his arm. It was coated in a light layer of blood, but the original prick was nowhere to be found. Urelle gave a final nod, this one more final than the last.
"We are done for the day. Come. We must return to Darnassus."
He began to drift away, the oaks and leaves already taking him into their clutches. Safksha Shadowedge rose, and followed.
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Epilogue Two - The Offensive
I, that is we, are somewhere in Ashenvale, headed for Elune knows where. The Old Man won't say. However, the journey was uneventful. We flew from Teldrassil to Auberdine, which didn't take long. Then we walked. Usually, when walking by my home, some apparitions are conjured by the foul reaches of my mind to torment me. None have come. I am glad. But I digress...
"We're here. Stay quiet, and follow."
And so they were. They had come to an Orc camp not far from Splintertree Post, and thus the area was full of bustling Lumber Workers and churning Demolishers. Safksha and Urelle crept around the edge of the road, swiftly climbing over a hill so they could observe silently.
"What do you feel when you look at this?" Urelle asked.
He looked at the scene displayed before him. Every society needed wood, yes, but this was just plain desecration. No society needed THIS much wood. It was inhumane. A deep ripple of anger was sent through me.
"Anger. A deep rage is now filling my gut."
Urelle nodded sagely. "As well it should. Now, extend your mind. What does nature feel?"
Safksha closed his eyes. This was still relatively hard for him, being a student still. But when he did finally release and let his mind roam free, he immediately recoiled. For in the age old mind of the forest, a rage unlike any other churned and frothed. It didn't just want the orcs dead. They wanted them cursed for all eternity, banished to the dark pits of the Legion's deepest realms of fire and torture. He gasped at such ferocity.
"I... I don't even..."
Urelle nodded again, considerably more grim. "Aye. Come."
They left their hiding place, moving into the forest. Obviously, the training would be loud and a battalion of orcish warriors was not what they needed when perfecting techniques. They walked for some time, eventually coming upon a small clearing with a few grazing Stags and a small lily coated pond.
"This will do. Now, Safksha, I want you to harness the anger you've felt and use it to attack."
Safksha blinked, then got onto one knee, preparing. Harness his anger. It sounded harder than it really was. Safksha Shadowedge was a man not to forget lightly, and everything he remembered sparked the ember of rage within him. Images and faces began to fly through his mind. The orcs, now warped into smug confidence and giggling disposition. The leaders of his former Guild, with the same smug smiles, telling him of the simplicity of his final job.
His fists began to ball and un-ball, eventually when un-balling sparking a furious outburst of natural energy. He stood up very quickly, yelling ferociously and throwing it with no particular accuracy, but in Urelle's general direction. It proved to be a very good shot, though, and soared toward's Urelle's midsection. Like a professional, Urelle simply swatted the orb away, nodding a little approvingly.
"There is quite a bit more to it than simply that. That is offensive power in its most primitive form." He cracked his neck. "Let us continue..."
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Several hours later. Safksha was a sweating mess on the edge of the glade. The stags had long since fled, and there were several scorch marks imprinted into the ground. Urelle nodded a final time.
"It will do, for now... Let us depart."
Barely managing to stand, Safksha followed again, this time back onto the road and back through the forest.
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Epilogue Three - Put Your Head in My Mouth
"It's time, Safksha."
Safksha Shadowedge had been sleeping when these words came. And, admittedly, try as he might, he could never fully grasp the concept of turning into an animal. And when these words came, he wasn't exactly prepared. Nonetheless, he woke.
"The strength and rage of the Bear, it will become yours." To prove his point, he shifted into a bear and lifted a boulder over. Show off.
"How would I learn this, Grandfather?"
"We shall speak to a bear spirit, and it is he who shall teach you. Here is what you must do..."
Later, as instructed, he started a fire and laid a slab of meat down onto it. Then, he sat, and closed his eyes. Breathing deeply, he attempted to summon the spirit.
Smoke surrounded him, and the spirit came.
The bear spirit looked upon him with a calm and peaceful gaze, and he heard a voice speak to him as though it was coming from the bear, but the creature makes no indication that it is speaking. Greetings, my young friend. If you have come to me seeking guidance, then perhaps I can help you find what you seek.
Safksha replied. "What do you represent, spirit?"
I represent the strength which bolsters you as a young druid. You have come to me to learn this strength, young one, and I will teach this to you. I will teach you all that is the spirit bear, provided you will listen and understand.
In order to know what it means to draw upon my spirit, you need to understand the importance of the strength of the body, as well as the strength of the heart.
"I seek to understand the importance of strength of the body."
The Bear inclined its head.
Strength of the body is the power and swiftness of action. You must keep yourself fit at all times, both physically and mentally. The bear's girth highlights its strength, as it is a ferocious foe in combat. The bear's girth, however, belies its lithe agility and sharp mind. These are surprises you will use to your advantage.
You must rely on the strength of the bear's body in order to master the way of the claw.
"I seek to understand the importance of strength of the heart."
Another head dip, the Bear acknowledging his thirst for knowledge.
Strength of the heart is what gives you the resolve to take action... action that is rooted in intents that are pure and forthright. To keep the balance is not to be complacent or banal.
You must show resolve for that which you believe in, and you must be willing to fight for it. The mother bear shows endless conviction in protecting her young, as does an elder bear protecting his den. It is this resolve, this strength of heart, which you must come to know if you are to master the way of the Claw.
"I have heard your words, Great Bear Spirit, and I understand. Give me now your blessings to fully learn the way of the Claw."
It remains to be seen if you are ready, young one. Even the wisest and oldest of druids are never truly ready when their ultimate time of testing comes.
You have heard my words, and now you must move on. Heed what I have taught you. There will be a time when you will have your strength tested. You must face your foe as the bear would - with strength of body and with strength of heart. Learn from the fight, young one. Go... with my blessings.
And at that, the smoke (and, indeed, the meat) vanished.
Urelle looked up, having been whittling a small totemic face.
"Do you understand, Safksha?"
"I do, Grandfather."
And the Bear Form took him.
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Epilogue Four - You Think That's Surprising?
Barely a day had passed, and already Urelle was gearing him up to summon the next spirit.
"The agility of a Saber, or a Cat, more simply, will become yours." Now he decided to do a series of complex cat-acrobatics. Well, at least Safksha got to see what they were able to do.
"What must I have now?"
"Fish. Lots and lots of fish."
Now that he was able to take the shape of a bear, fishing was simple. He simply waded into the water and waited for the fish to hop upriver into his waiting mouth. He loved how fish did that. It was delightful sport. And so the second ritual took place.
Smoke surrounded him, and the spirit came.
The cat spirit looked upon him with a cunning and analytical gaze, and he heard a voice speak to him again as though it was coming from the cat. Greetings, my young friend. If you have come to me seeking guidance, then perhaps I can help you find what you seek.
This was all very nostalgic. "What do you represent, spirit?"
I represent the speed and agility necessary to bring prey to the ground. I will teach you all you need to know about me. You have brought sufficient trade enough.
In order to know what it means to draw upon my spirit, you need to understand the importance of the speed of the body.
"I seek to understand the importance of speed of the body."
Agility in the body is not merely strength and endurance in the legs. It is patience. It is cunning. The legs must not only be hard and thumping and persistent but also light and airy, like a midsummer's breeze. You wait to catch the prey off guard. Only at the most precise moment may you strike. Agility is speed yes, but without the patience preceding it, the speed has no meaning. It becomes a machine that serves no purpose. You cannot protect those which you love the most with such a machine.
Safksha's mind flashed to three vibrant cubs, oblivious to the world, playing innocently amidst the flowers.
"I have heard your words, Great Cat Spirit, and I understand. Give me now your blessings to fully learn the way of the Claw."
It remains to be seen if you are ready, young one. Even the wisest and oldest of druids are never truly ready when their ultimate time of testing comes.
You have heard my words, and now you must move on. Heed what I have taught you. There will be a time when you will have yourself tested. Go... with my blessings.
"Do you understand, Safksha?"
This time, his return to reality was more forced.
"I do, Grandfather."
And the Cat Form took him.
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Final Epilogue - The End
Now was the time to end it. Now was the time to finally complete his ruggedly haphazard instruction.
"This is it, Safksha. This is the final form you will have to learn to complete your training. The bird. You will learn to take to flight." He flied high, so high that Safksha could barely see him. Then he dived back down and loose feathers flew into Safksha's face.
"I expect i'll have to have some other offering for this one, too?"
"Collect as many nuts and seeds as you can."
He did just that. And soon the third and final ritual was ready.
Smoke surrounded him, and the spirit came.
This time the bird came from the sky, as most birds do. Descending from the heavens, its wings spread and emanated a regal presence few would believe without seeing. Greetings, my young friend. If you have come to me seeking guidance, then perhaps I can help you find what you seek.
Again came the traditional question. "What do you represent, spirit?"
Most do not know this, but the Bird represents endurance. There is indeed a certain cunning in a falcon's keen eye as it hunts for its prey, but that very same falcon has been up in the sky for hours searching for that very prey. I represent the endurance that keeps one flying across the lands and the seas.
In order to know what it means to draw upon my spirit, you need to understand the importance of the endurance of the body.
"I seek to understand the importance of speed of the body."
Endurance is the willpower it takes to keep going. Consider the migration of the bird. It must fly across countries for its very existence. Yet it does not complain, nor shirk its duties. It is the fortitude of kings that drives us and keeps us going, and your own fortitude must be that of stone to endure what is to come.
"I have heard your words, Great Bird Spirit, and I understand. I am ready."
You have heard my words, and now you must move on. Heed what I have taught you. There will be a time when you will have yourself tested. Go... with my blessings.
"Do you understand, Safksha?"
This whole journey was one of self discovery, one of peace. He has traversed hills, swam rivers, and washed his hands with the blood of the innocent. This has always haunted him, taunted him with his sanity. But now, now he was at peace. Now he was enlightened.
"I do, Grandfather. I am at peace."
He was a Druid.
Completed
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