He was born sickly and weak. That he survived until childbirth was a miracle. With a thin reedy voice he wailed for you. You knew his mother, knew why she couldn’t keep him. You were debating on just keeping him till you find him a home. But when you wrap him in his soft baby blanket his hand grabs your finger, holding it so tightly your finger changes color.
From then on he was yours. Oftentimes you wonder if the child grabbed your hand to simply hold you or because he picked you. Soon, barely in the blink of an eye, your husband is gone but you remain, carrying Samiel in a baby’s swing on your back as you work in the forges. With the spells on the headband to muffle the sound he sleeps easily. You worry and fear, often suffering because you need mana.
Everything is for the baby first and it’s so hard to hold him and hope it’s enough. You’d do anything to keep that tiny, angry child alive. When that last vial of precious mana is gone you hug him close and pray to the Light. My life for my child. Anything you could give to help him survive, you promise.
Luck comes in the form of Thina, giving out mana potions. You find the right place and you wait, holding Samiel close. You almost cry as you take the vials. The Light heard you. You commit her to memory as you give him some later.
You won’t be like your parents, you promise yourself, you’ll be a good parent. The best one you can be.
–
He’s talented, you realize one day as a temper tantrum set your sleeve afire. He had the sort of talent you would never have. The kind archmages and heroes possess, one that would see him rise up higher in society than his blackmsith father could ever help him reach. He looks up to you with wide eyes as you put the flames out. You realize he’s waiting for you to react.
Putting on a smile you congratulate him for it. He doesn’t want to be a blacksmith or a healer like you are but this is the sort of talent society craves. You feel fatherly pride at the thought of your boy rising up and living a productive life without ever hungering or suffering like you’ve had to. Some part of you is jealous but you push it away.
The next day after your sleeve burns you start searching for places where he can learn with other children like him.
You find one but you resolve to pick up more work to pay for the high costs. Mage tutors and supplies cost so much.
He doesn’t need to be like you. He doesn’t have to be a smith or a priest and you don’t want to be jealous of the lottery he won with his talent. You alter how you try to parent, get a membership the library. If he can control his emotions then you know he’ll be the best one in his teacher’s eyes.
He could become whatever he wanted to be and rise to the top of society. You are as certain of this are you are of your faith in the Light.
–
You have not been a child for so long you have forgotten that it isn’t only adults that can be cruel. They bullied him. Samiel! Your son. You’d wondered why he’d been so off. You try to convince his teacher to understand, to make it stop. But Samiel punched the daughter of a Magister.
You realize how low you are on the ladder of society when they tell you Samiel will still be punished for hitting her. How do they see he was defending himself and still punish him? He’s not an adult that understands how the world truly is.
You’ve spent centuries learning from religious, philosophical, and medical text alike. You know he can be taught alone so you pull him from classes and as you leave the school that day you don’t scold him. You take him out to get something nice to eat instead.
To be both teacher, parent, and smith eats away your day. You miss when you could have some time to do nothing.
Before resentment grows you strangle it. It’s not his fault. You take on more work. Someday he will go to Dalaran or one of the schools in Silvermoon. Maybe even become an apprentice. Such a thing is costly but if you start now you can help ease some of the financial burden.
–
It hurts. It physically hurts day in and day out now. You know you push yourself to hard and sometimes when you call on the Light to much you overdo it and seize. Less than a decade, your promise yourself, Samiel will become an adult and you’ll stop. But mage spells and books are costly and sometimes you skip a meal or two. But Samiel always eats, as tempting as it is to take some of his snacks or food you ignore it.
His talent grows in leaps and bounds, it seems, and you worry so much. You’re not skilled enough to teach more than the most basic of the arcane and things learned from your Priesthood. But you try, you try so hard to help. He learns from you but you know he needs better than you.
Samiel is still as angry as he was when he came into the world but now he’s old enough to catch the hints of your stress and strain. You work enough for two men, maybe three, and he can see it as you slowly wear down and he grows older, more observant and sharp with fel green eyes that aren’t entirely that of a child’s.
But it it helps Samiel you promise yourself you’ll get up again and again and again. You never yells, your never get mad and even when his snark comes around you take it without worry.
Someday he’ll be amazing. Someday he’ll inspire the world.
Or maybe not.
You promise yourself you’ll be happy and proud of him as long as he can stand on his own. Already he wanders the city like he owns it.
–
You make new friends and get a second job as a healer. It feels amazing to heal again. Samiel gets -apprenticed-, a sign of his future greatness like you’ve always known.
You keep trying to be everything your parents were not. You don’t yell, you speak softly. You don’t order him, you try to tell him the consequences and how they can hurt others. When he found that egg and Khalithas sought you both out you knew he would dig his heels in. You told him then about how terrible it would be to lose a tiny life because you were so proud and assured- not knowledgeable- assured you could do better. How cruel it would be to destroy a life because you thought you knew better. Khalithas leaves with the egg freely given by Samiel and now everytime you see Ruby with her wide eyes and wings you’re reminded of how he made the right choice without being forced.
He’s gotten a penchant for chaos and just like his birth mother he thrives in it. But you keep an eye, warn him and he learns boundaries. Slowly you see him grow and you’re proud.
You try not be like your parents. You do not yell, do not try to force him into following your path. You try to teach him to be kind and he is- in his own way. Snarky and far to smart for his own good. But he’s grown to be better about his acidic wit and can keep his tongue quiet when Rai’thas trips or slowly wakes up in the mornings and makes small mistakes. He’s grown fond of him as well.
You hope you were a good parent. Are a good parent. You hope so much one day he’ll tell you that you are.
–
He just found his first crush. You don’t worry about that either as you watch them play at your smithy. You don’t comment. You’ll be there if he needs you.
@pyrosophist @shampoocommercialelves @razxion for mentions.
Tyleril Silversword 