Chapter I: Remembrance
"Eun'Oloch? That doesn't sound elven, why would we even bother going there?" Simple at the time for a young man I posed the question which unbeknownst to me sheltered such heavy ideas.
It was on that day I learned a powerful lesson. Not like the magics of old that could erase a continent in the blink of an eye but like the brush of a mother's hand against her son's cheek and how it would calm the raging beasts in his stomach and heart. What is wisdom? Can you measure it? These were the questions I asked myself but never my father. I carried with me the unbridled notion that there were indeed stupid questions and he was an important man who led his people. He was a man who couldn't be slowed down by the silly questions of a young man, let alone his son. So I kept these wandering thoughts to myself and tried to make sense of them all.
Even now when all feels the same and the world has lost its luster I can still see his face turning to me from atop his trusted steed. He smiled which was not rare in front of the men we rode with. He smiled and when he did it felt as if he had stretched his hand out and pat me on my head.
"You are asking of me the same words your mother and the council did. Tell me, do you wish to be a warrior or a scholarly consult who grows old and hunches over a candle at night?" He was always clever with his traps my father. He knew how to prod a wild boar into a clearly visible pitfall and I was no smarter then.
"Of course not! I'm going to be as valiant and honorable as you are!" It only made sense for a young boy to praise his father so- full of awe and mystique. He laughed for a good while and turned back around as we passed across the Narrow Neck. Looking back on it it was a cliche name for the natural bridge; an ancient root system for one of the massive red-oaks had grown thirsty and decided on its own one day to begin to reach for the other side of the gorge. It spiraled as it went, leaving a patchwork of veins along the way to support its mass.
"What is honor, T'alathian?" He did not need to turn again to face me for my complete understanding. Another lecture that I sighed and rolled my eyes at.
"Everyone who has read the old fables knows what honor is. Honor is won on the battlefield and it is a signet that separates legends from the nameless." Had I known what lay in my future path, I would have chosen my answer a lot more carefully. He slowed his steed so that he was now beside me and paused to a halt. Naturally I matched the stance and looked out beyond the gorge where the wildlife was flourishing and as far as the eyes could see there was a lush blanket across the fertile crescent.
"Victory in battle is one way to achieve honor, yes. Honor may etch a name in stone rather than dirt in the tides of history, yes. But you have not answered my question T'alathian." When he let his mind trail off into the setting sun I could see the look in his eyes that filled me an uneasy set of fluttering butterflies. He had no armor or walls up and in that day when he turned to me I knew- everyone knew who had the good fortune to see that face, that he was pure of mind and heart.
"It is not an elven name nor is it an elven kingdom, nor are there any elves present within its boundaries. It is a swampy marsh that has no natural resources and relies purely on trade to sustain its living. They are a people of not war but love, for their people, their land and life. Within those marshes they have resided for generations merely living as best they can and they have never risen a hand to cause harm to others." It wasn't with a switch that his subtle demeanor changed and morphed from awe to forlorn with pain seeping from those same eyes that had just been illuminated. The sunset wasn't warm anymore and the cold night began to take its place overhead.
"Honor, T'alathian, is upholding what it means to be you, when it is the least fortunate for you. Honor is disregarding what people might say and doing what you believe and know to be right. It cannot be won as a prize in combat and it cannot be falsified with documents or even granted by any man or woman in the world. It has to come from within." He extended his index finger and tapped upon my chest, right where my heart had been beating ravenously.
"Honor is hearing the call of those who desperately need a hand to pull them from the darkness and not looking, not hesitating, but offering that hand." He set his palm on my shoulder and in the beckoned silence I nodded and asked the question that had been begged.
"Do they need our help?" I knew the answer already but as if the stars had written our script I followed eagerly, knowing that the answer would be bestowed upon me.
"Now more than ever." He responded with a stoic face, one not void of emotions but one so perfectly set and utterly devoted to the notion that when it was asked of us, whether it be our swords, our armor or our lives- we would answer the call.
On that day I began to fully understand what it meant, that elusive being that was wisdom. It didn't blossom within my head but the seeds had been set. We didn't need to stop on the last leg of the trek and I didn't need to ask anymore questions about where we were going or why. All of my lingering thoughts had been hushed with the image that my father had delicately offered my young soul. It was the honorable thing to do.
"Eun'Oloch? That doesn't sound elven, why would we even bother going there?" Simple at the time for a young man I posed the question which unbeknownst to me sheltered such heavy ideas.
It was on that day I learned a powerful lesson. Not like the magics of old that could erase a continent in the blink of an eye but like the brush of a mother's hand against her son's cheek and how it would calm the raging beasts in his stomach and heart. What is wisdom? Can you measure it? These were the questions I asked myself but never my father. I carried with me the unbridled notion that there were indeed stupid questions and he was an important man who led his people. He was a man who couldn't be slowed down by the silly questions of a young man, let alone his son. So I kept these wandering thoughts to myself and tried to make sense of them all.
Even now when all feels the same and the world has lost its luster I can still see his face turning to me from atop his trusted steed. He smiled which was not rare in front of the men we rode with. He smiled and when he did it felt as if he had stretched his hand out and pat me on my head.
"You are asking of me the same words your mother and the council did. Tell me, do you wish to be a warrior or a scholarly consult who grows old and hunches over a candle at night?" He was always clever with his traps my father. He knew how to prod a wild boar into a clearly visible pitfall and I was no smarter then.
"Of course not! I'm going to be as valiant and honorable as you are!" It only made sense for a young boy to praise his father so- full of awe and mystique. He laughed for a good while and turned back around as we passed across the Narrow Neck. Looking back on it it was a cliche name for the natural bridge; an ancient root system for one of the massive red-oaks had grown thirsty and decided on its own one day to begin to reach for the other side of the gorge. It spiraled as it went, leaving a patchwork of veins along the way to support its mass.
"What is honor, T'alathian?" He did not need to turn again to face me for my complete understanding. Another lecture that I sighed and rolled my eyes at.
"Everyone who has read the old fables knows what honor is. Honor is won on the battlefield and it is a signet that separates legends from the nameless." Had I known what lay in my future path, I would have chosen my answer a lot more carefully. He slowed his steed so that he was now beside me and paused to a halt. Naturally I matched the stance and looked out beyond the gorge where the wildlife was flourishing and as far as the eyes could see there was a lush blanket across the fertile crescent.
"Victory in battle is one way to achieve honor, yes. Honor may etch a name in stone rather than dirt in the tides of history, yes. But you have not answered my question T'alathian." When he let his mind trail off into the setting sun I could see the look in his eyes that filled me an uneasy set of fluttering butterflies. He had no armor or walls up and in that day when he turned to me I knew- everyone knew who had the good fortune to see that face, that he was pure of mind and heart.
"It is not an elven name nor is it an elven kingdom, nor are there any elves present within its boundaries. It is a swampy marsh that has no natural resources and relies purely on trade to sustain its living. They are a people of not war but love, for their people, their land and life. Within those marshes they have resided for generations merely living as best they can and they have never risen a hand to cause harm to others." It wasn't with a switch that his subtle demeanor changed and morphed from awe to forlorn with pain seeping from those same eyes that had just been illuminated. The sunset wasn't warm anymore and the cold night began to take its place overhead.
"Honor, T'alathian, is upholding what it means to be you, when it is the least fortunate for you. Honor is disregarding what people might say and doing what you believe and know to be right. It cannot be won as a prize in combat and it cannot be falsified with documents or even granted by any man or woman in the world. It has to come from within." He extended his index finger and tapped upon my chest, right where my heart had been beating ravenously.
"Honor is hearing the call of those who desperately need a hand to pull them from the darkness and not looking, not hesitating, but offering that hand." He set his palm on my shoulder and in the beckoned silence I nodded and asked the question that had been begged.
"Do they need our help?" I knew the answer already but as if the stars had written our script I followed eagerly, knowing that the answer would be bestowed upon me.
"Now more than ever." He responded with a stoic face, one not void of emotions but one so perfectly set and utterly devoted to the notion that when it was asked of us, whether it be our swords, our armor or our lives- we would answer the call.
On that day I began to fully understand what it meant, that elusive being that was wisdom. It didn't blossom within my head but the seeds had been set. We didn't need to stop on the last leg of the trek and I didn't need to ask anymore questions about where we were going or why. All of my lingering thoughts had been hushed with the image that my father had delicately offered my young soul. It was the honorable thing to do.