I) Fatal flaw: You’re an idealist in a cruel, callous world.
You want the world to be good. Here’s the problem: it’s usually not. At best it’s subpar. At worst it’s a nightmare void, and your naiveté is simply a plot device used to emphasize this point. Your inability to accept the world’s present darkness will lead to your untimely downfall, but not before your dewy-eyed idealism and rosy visions of utopia erode away. You will become a shell of your former self. Sorry about that. Yikes
I don’t remember what the could thingy is so I’mma pretend it’s the
💭 one.
“Adrianal’s my best friend! or well, one of two? I sounds like something the younger elves and humans say- my son says it to. I don’t understand it but it sounds applicable. Adrian is irritated a lot and without his coffee you probably shouldn’t talk to him. I think he’s alright without it. A lot of us are more easily irritated without it.”
“He understands feelings that are hard to put to name and why I took my vows. When we had to defend ourselves and bleed, explain our vows, and endure the displeasure of those who did not understand he held his head high, speaking calmly. He defended us all with words and actions. I don’t know how I’m viewed by other people- I have trouble reading them with the whispers constant – but Adrianal has made his clear, I think.”
“I don’t think he’s really mad when he seems to be. But sometimes he’ll stay at his desk when I come over and we’ll talk. I show him things from my forges, talk about my children and show him Samiel’s art. Small things. Fun things. So…best friends.”
“Ouron Nethermoon. Strong, willing to fight, and when he comes to the infirmary he’s often there for a while. We’ve had a good many conversations buthis senility, admittedly, has been a source of some of my irritation with him. I know some of the fault is mine and he has apologized. I feel that were he not senile he would be a wonderful friend. But when he gets angry at me, when he hit me with his cane, when he gets short with me- it feels like it’s less my fault.”
“I like his company and I do enjoy talking to him. I wish he hadn’t decided to change his mind on the ritual. i worry about him a lot and I hope there’s some way to increase his physical durability.”
“Trust is something you give others when you go onto the battlefield. I trust them to protect me if the enemy gets close and they trust me to pull them from the brink of death and to save them from bleeding wounds. I trust all of them without question, without a second thought.”
“Except for Thanidiel.”
“Who stabs their healers in the back, screaming and moaning like a toddler? Does it serve any purpose? Did she think before she stabbed? Where to stab? How deeply? The harm she could do if the wrong organ was nicked a shade to deeply? I have offered no comment to her about her actions. I do not want to spar with her, I do not want to be near her in case she decides she has more problems with my vows. She’s a good soldier, excellent on the battlefield, and has been a good patient in the past.”
“But there’s no trust. None at all. I want naught to do with her.”
Normally Tyleril was prone to following along if something seemed reasonable enough. Doing something in the pre-dawn hours was fine but Ouron had been very unhappy in the infirmary. Walks had been prescribed after all. So reluctantly Tyleril had agreed, not seeing how that and a quick bite of food could go any worse.
The smell of old clung to Ouron. Tyleril had not been aware old had a smell but now he was swarmed by it as they walked through the streets with ouron offering commentary on…well, anything that seemed to trigger his senitly.
A shudder ran down Tyleril’s spine at the memory of Ouron flirting with him. Thankfully Ouron seemed to fail to notice it as his watery eyes fixed at the end of the street. “There!”
“W-wha-”
“There SIlversword!” Faster than Tyleril thought he could, ouron begins to hobble, beelineing to the breakfast place and pushing Tyleril to a fast walk to keep up with him.
“Do we want pancakes or-”
“You don’t order for me!” He snapped back. But then he paused and seemed to consider. “But since it was your birthday I’ll let you order from the adult menu this once. Don’t complain if you can’t eat it all.”
“Pancakes!” Thinariel was grumpy as Tyleril nearly pulled her along. But when at 3am she always seemed to be grumpy to Tyleril. “W-we can get pancakes, eggs, mayhaps hashed potatoes…”
If looks could kill Thinariel would be far more dangerous than Tyleril’s mind already registered. He almost missed the question she asked him. “Why-”
“So you can eat something?” It was perhaps, the wrong question so he hastily added. “And coffee. As much as we can drink. Then we can drink s-some more. “ Thinariel’s hand was tiny compared to his thickly calloused one but as he tugged she followed him to the bright magelights of the food place.
“Dad, it’s butt’s o’clock in the morning and I have class in a few hours. Why are we here?” Arae whined and lowered his head onto the table, “Why aren’t you asleep?”
“I-I thought you’d like pancakes and you sounded awake already.”
“I was studying for class.”
“And your brain needs f-food, so what better place to come t-than here?”
“Did you just get back from seeing Dad?”
Tyleril’s eyes grew wide and he laughed, “W-What? What makes you say that?”
“It’s 3 in the morning and we’re getting pancakes.”
He’d been prepared for this, he had told himself at one point. Prepared for it and then he’d completely forgotten about it.
“Pancakes!” Arae had demanded.
“I- no, Arae you n-need to-” He got a mouthful of white feather in response as the large feathery dragon looked down at him. “Pbhg!” Arae continued his walking, moving in a sassy manner Tyleril had only ever seen Khalithas or Reyinllin manage.
“Arae you need to change back. Dragons just don’t wander into resturaunts at three am. Change back and then pancakes, I promise!”
In case Arae thought he was joking Tyleril squared his shoulder and looked the small chicken dragon squarely in the eye. “Or I’m going to pick you up and carry you back home.”
Bonus story-
His name was Suna. That much Ghrian had caught when she had been walking around. She had finally left the inn for a night and wandered the city wherever she pleased. It was nice to know that even at night, Ghrian’s armor and sword had held some intimidation.
So she had relaxed. She’d found a handful of snacks to buy, a new whetstone. This was the latest that Ghrian had ever shopped and there was a small thrill at doing it at three am. She practically blended in with the shadows were it not for the heavy sound of her plate armor.
“I don’t know who you are-”
“Pancakes!”
Drunk or high or possibly not that bright? She was not prone to acts of kindness but the rabbit-eared man seemed in need of something that Ghrian was certain the docks would not provide.
“Pancakes.” She repeated,wrapping an arm around the drunk. It looked friendly but her hand was like steel around his waist. Without a second thought she slipped into a more watchful mode. “Very well then…we’ll find…pancakes.” She let the last word show her displeasure at finding pancakes so late in the night.
But Suna did not seem to notice and pointed. Ghrian obediently turned them both in that direction and off they went with only a heavy sigh as her protest.
One twin had started it and then the other agreed. So why not? Alexander laughed and giggled and Rai’thas held onto his arm as they walked. Few things were better than Silvermoon at night and before long Tyleril found himself enjoying the walk.
Alexander sang as they walked and Rai’thas hummed along. The smell of hastily prepared foods promised exactly what the twins had wanted and without a second thought he followed them into the restaurant. They were drunk, he was not. But if it made them smile then leaving home at 3 am for this was nothing.
Tyleril Silversword 