A Farstrider Farewell

[Bovel]

Spoiler:

This is a story about two farstriders that honour two of their fallen fellow rangers. It is based off RP and can therefore come off as a bit repetetive. Enjoy!

A song I found was a fitting theme for the scenario.

Riael Novalight lowers his hood, a faint smile spread upon his lips as he spots the elf coming up the slope.
- Wyrmsinger.
The new arrival respectfully salutes the farstrider who answers with a bow and both elves meet halfway and grabs each other by the elbows, as they had many times before this one.

- Bloodletter. It's good to see a familiar face but I wish we met for another reason.
- It has been a long time. I received your summons. I am also sorry to hear about your brother.
- Times have been hard on up here since you left. I hope things in Quel'Thalas has improved.

Riael has lit up with the arrival of his old friend, eyes full of mirth. Quennath, the other elf rubs his face, it being bruised and nicked that seem to have healed only for a few days.
- You look as if you have been picking fights with taurens again.
- Things are as best as one may expect. Our people survive. None surviving better than I of course. Just a brutish lot that needs to be taught manners.
Quennath plays casually with his hair as the other farstriders laughs at him, then Riael motions for them both to walk a ledge beyond the camp, overlooking the Crystalsong Forest. A jormungar stalks along the outlines of the campsite, coiling up just behind a tent a few yards from the sin’dorei.
- Still playing with animals? Planning to marry one some day?
- Still playing with other rangers if you ask my sister...

Riael glances at the Bloodletter, his friend, with a slight frown yet obviously sincerely happy and relieved to see him. They would have had the discussion of marriage many times before and Quennath responds to the frown with a grin.
- If I'd tie myself down... then I'd have to sacrifice more than I'd want to.
- Better to tame a wurm than tame a shrew, I suppose. From what I've seen men don't know how to keep a woman in line anyway.
- It's simpler that way. And I guess that is how you endangered your famous face?
- You know me. I hold my tongue for no one.
- Yeah I do remember back in the days. If anyone would make me out to be dishonest, it'd be you Quennath.
- I would say I hate to be right, but I really, really don't. It's almost as good as a mistress.
- Speaking about women, how about... ?
- Bah. No woman has met my standards. They're either too independent, or unwilling to scrub and clean as thoroughly as I require. Oh but they do fall for cheap promises of love and commitment. Fools.
- I admire your character, I've given in to my needs one too many times I think.
- To each there own. So, what is it that made you reach out to me after all this time? I thought you'd never wish to see me after I left the band.

Quennath peers as he is approached by his fellow ranger who looks out across the crystalline forest, struggling to form words. His friend sends his hand rooting around in a thin backpack kept on his back, beneath the cloak. Riael takes a deep breath and regains his speech.
- Things out there took a turn for the worse after you left. Blue dragons came from Coldarra and from the endless sky. They called war upon everyone able to cast spells on Azeroth...
We joined up in the efforts to stop them and.... We got overpowered and there was some kind of spell.
- Spell? Just say it, Wyrmsinger. We're not getting any younger.

Wyrmsinger pulls out two finely crafted arrows and some ornate jewlery, he opens his palm to reveal two pendants, one with a blazing sun, a symbol of hope and the other held a chip of fossilized dragonscale, both belonging to other farstriders in their band. Quennath eyes the arrows and necklaces, these two rangers were alive when he left. He frowns at his friend.
- These dragons are experts on magic or something. The mission was to scout a weird construct of theirs and when we reached it... the thing detonated I guess.
- Have you brought me here to guilt me? For an apology?
- Oh, snap out of it Bloodletter. Our band-siblings died, I was not about to honour their passing alone.
Quennath looks away, his face going stone serious and Riael looks at his friend with a stern grimace but there’s grief in his eyes, and loneliness.
- I'm...sorry. I left too soon.
- No, don't... I don't blame you for leaving, neither did they.
- I hope their death was swift and honorable.
- They were caught in the center of the spell with the mage we escorted... I was hit too but they passed instantly.
- Good. They did not suffer. And I trust you are treating any injury like a ranger would, and fighting through it?
- I tried, I mean I did but fel.. it was rough. Not even sure how many weeks passed until I could push through leaving the bed.

Bloodletter runs his fingers through his hair, glancing over the landscape whilst the other elf fiddles with the arrows and attaches the pendants around the shaft using knots and threading the shaft through solid rings of the chains.
- Trying is for the weak. Doing is for the strong. You are either putting an arrow into your enemy, or you are a lowly wench scrubbing the boots of another.
- Worst part is... No. We should honour our fallen first.
- Yes. Let's.
- I decided, no wench and here you have me. Besides, I should not do this without you, customary to have the Bloodletter send the arrow flying.

Quennath pulls the bow off his back, stonefaced and holding a hand out. Riael smiles faintly and hands over the first arrow, but his eyes starts to become somewhat glassy.
- Think you can still hit well from up here these days?
- I can hit a fly buzzing across the canyon with my eyes closed and one arm behind my back.

- Amdirion... of all of us, you were a candle in the darkest of hours. Rest well, brother.
- Rest eternal, brother. The sun shall reach you beyond.
The ranger aims for a tree across the way, firing a near perfect shot into the higher part of the bark. He then reaches for another arrow, and Riael runs a few fingers beneath his eye when the arrow was handed over.

- Lhindiel... a twig of a woman. I always wondered how such a slender woman could house such a large heart. The only woman who will ever prove me wrong.
Riael laughs at the comment about their fallen sister, tears trickling down his face and Quennath takes the arrow to the bowstring, he looks slightly choked up, but keeps his composure to fire the arrow near the first.
- Rest well, sister. Your day will be eternal from now on.
- May the sun forever shine where they rest.

- I know when we last stood here I said things...unkind things...after honoring your brother.
Softly, Riael brushes up against Quennath, tears still streaming from his eyes but no sign of sobs or snivels.
- Thank you, Quennath. You spoke your mind... A freedom I will fight for either of us to keep.
- I am glad I am not firing an arrow for you.
Quennath nods, and looks over the landscape, going straightfaced even if his eyes speak of his sadness. Riael puts a firm hand on his shoulder.
- The same goes for you, -brother-. How about something to drink and I can finish that story?

The rangers spends a moment in silent contemplation, looking among the mystical trees. Quennath then nods, agreeing to the offer. Riael smiles at him, wiping away most the tears with the other hand before realising his fellow ranger and heading toward the camp. On the way he shoos Himras away from the dragonhawks and the wurm slithers off into the hillside.