Fanciful Dreams and Memories

Written in very cursive script denoting the maturity and education of the author 

 

August 22nd

Dear Journal,

Just sitting here in the office this morning, as per usual, with my coffee and cigarettes and I’ll have to admit that I am in a very good mood.  However, I won’t say that I am ecstatically happy or anything like that, just happy with things for the moment.  Oh sure, I have some lingering problems preying on my mind but they aren’t the only thing that I exist for and I am reconciling myself to the fact that there may not be a solution for every single problem that arises.  Sometimes you just have to sit back and weigh the pros and cons and see if something is really worth trying to find a resolution for it.  Some things you just have to mark off and keep on going.

Last night must have been enjoyable night from what I can remember of it this morning because I had some of the strangest dreams, maybe it was all one long continuous dream but it was very enjoyable at the same time.   I had a dream that was very strange in a lot of ways because it was like I was standing back and watching myself go through different phases in my life.  It was fun and I guess I was laughing out loud during parts of it. 

I don’t think that a person dreams the way that I did last night very often, however, it was very enjoyable in overall content.  As I started my dream, the odd thing was that it appeared I was a silent observer to everything and I couldn’t interfere nor could I tell myself in the dream that that was a dumb decision to make when my dream persona made a woeful error in judgment.

I dreamt that I was a young man in Silvermoon, back when my parents were still living and my sisters were still rather young.  I am still smiling at the fact that Felaran used to have a gap in her front teeth and how black her hair was back then, instead of the snowy white that it is today.  Faendra was just at the stage where she was crawling around on the floor of the shoppe and would put everything her little chubby hands contacted with into her mouth.

I never realized how beautiful my adoptive Mother was.  Sure, she was a bit more care worn than some of the other dilettantes that roamed the city but she was beautiful in my Father’s eyes and you could tell that they were very much in love with one another.  The look on my Father’s face as he watched my Mother moving around the shop was more heartfelt than anything I have seen on another man’s face when he is looking at this spouse.  They really did love one another, not just with the way they acted with one another did it show but the way that they would seem to light up when they were near one another.  I’ll admit that it still brings a tear to my eye this morning when I reflect back on that part of my dream.

I watched myself get ready to go to school. My Mother fussing over the robes that I had chosen to wear that day because she didn’t think that they were as elegant as some of the other mages in my class and would make me appear less than they were.  So, I went off to change into the black and silver robes that she had made for me.  Unfortunately, I must have still been in a growing stage or something because the robe was a little short and my Mother was just shaking her head and telling my Father that I had outgrown them again and it had only been two months since she had made it.  So, apparently, my Mom’s dream had been for me to be a mage in Silvermoon and my Father was trying to appease her by having me attend the classes.  I wasn’t good in the tailoring shop because my hands were too large to do the fine work like my parents did and I was just too impatient to get things done.

I guess my parents weren’t aware that I had some light leather armor stashed around the corner from the shoppe and would slip into those as quickly as I could once I was out of their eyesight.  Oh my god, the bow that I was using must have been left over from the first war; it was still serviceable but barely, still had that delicate antique look the bows had back in the day.  Off I would trot to go meet some of my friends for another day of terrorizing the beasts in the forests as we all wanted to be Rangers.  Oh, the fun we had as amazing and I felt more comfortable running with my companions in the woods than I did sitting in a classroom with stuffy instructors telling me how to cast spells.  I hated reading all of those books and I hated having to sit there while some stinky smelling old mage instructor kept telling me to close my fingers and wave my hand with a bit more grace than what I was apparently capable of.

I guess that my Mother was rather heartbroken when my instructor paid a visit to the shoppe to let them know that my absences were too many and that he no longer felt it appropriate for me to attend his classes.  However, he was very happy to see that my Father was doing so much better and that the terminal illness had dissipated.  Yes, I had lied to the instructors and yes, I had lied to my parents so that I didn’t have to follow that particular line of study.

I’m sitting here now and wondering if that wasn’t some kind of Mother’s Curse that happened when Vashlan was born and my Mother finally got her mage, even though he is Kaldorei.  You never know how quirky the Fates can be sometimes in your life and Vashlan would have been everything that my Mother would have wished for.  He has a flair for his magic that I could have never had and seems to love it as much as he does his family at times.

Anyway, I digress a bit here.  I remember the thrashing that I got from my Father for telling a lie to the instructors and to my Mother.  I think my backside even hurt while I was still in the dream state and I can remember how much I cried when he told me how disappointed he was in for me for not being honest about my feelings towards the magic.  I hated the feminine looking robes and I felt awkward trying to make things happen with nothing in my hand except for that wand.  It wasn’t me.

I remember the day quite well when a Ranger Commander came into the shoppe to purchase some shirts and how he chatted with my parents while I was moving around the shoppe with the broom in my hand, sweeping the floors as if that were my path in life.  My parents actually invited the man to take dinner with us and that’s when I found out that my Father had contacted the man and had invited him to come to the shoppe and meet me.  Light Bless my Father!!  Of course, I didn’t know at the time that the man was my true biological Father and had I known, things might have been even different than they are now.

I was introduced to the man and being in somewhat of a surly mood at the time, appearing very unkempt and a bit on the moody side, the man just looked me over and told me that I was to report to  him at dawn the next morning at the training area in Silvermoon.  Did I happen to have a bow, any kind of armor or anything of that nature?  I know that my face must have lit up like the sun at that.  My parents both looked at me as if I had grown a horn out of my forehead when I answered in the affirmative that I had some equipment.  Thus, the adventure began. 

That first day when reported to the Commander was probably the most humiliating event to have happened to that point in my young life.  I had taken a great deal of care of cleaning my leathers and made sure that my old bow shone with a glow that it was capable of, making sure that it was strung properly as well as cleaning the swords that I had found in the woods. I thought that I looked just like one of the Rangers when I was reporting in.  I knocked on the door of his office and he told me to come in and the first thing he said was “Strip!”  I know I hesitated and I know that my face must have gone through all of the hues of the rainbow because I was totally unprepared for this sort of thing. 

I slowly removed my weapons and put them on the floor and started removing my leathers.  I knew I wasn’t that kind of elf and I hope that this fellow realized that before anything happened that would make me leave this office rather hastily.  I know that I stood there trying to cover my naked chest with my hair and hoped that my boxers would take care of the rest.  He just got up from his desk and started walking around me, inspecting me as if I were a beast that had been put up for auction. 

The first thing he told me was that the bow was all wrong, it was too small for someone of my stature, and it was more suited for a young girl just learning archery.  The swords were flimsy and cheaply made, more for some poor peasant roaming the woods.  The leathers, my precious leathers that I had scrimped and saved for month to buy were more for decoration and not utility that I assumed that they would have done with.  I know that I could feel the tears stinging in my eyes but I refused to let them flow, it wouldn’t do for a would-be Ranger to be standing there under this man’s scrutiny with tears streaming down his face.

He called in his adjutant and had him fetch a measuring tape, similar to the ones that we used in the shoppe.  He started measuring me himself, the length of my arms, my legs and my torso.  I will admit when he started doing the inside seam measure that I must have jumped like scalded cat because I was very nervous.  He just chuckled and told me to relax, he was taking the measurements so that I could be properly fitted with some decent armor, then we would go to the armory and he would pick out the proper bow and weapons for me.  I tried to explain that I had no money and he just waved his hand and told me that the Rangers would be outfitting me henceforward.   He handed the measurements to the adjutant and told him to go to the warehouse and get the armor…and yes, boots, good proper boots.

We sat in his office for a while and I can still hear his voice this morning in my head.  How he talked about what would be expected of me if I could pass the muster and the rigors of the training camp and I will have to admit that I preened with what little pride was left to me at this point when he told me that he thought I would not have any trouble at all.  He picked up my old bow from the floor where I had dropped it next to my swords and started talking about it.  He admired the handiwork and started telling me about the antiquity of it.  From everything that he told me, it was made of bone and wood, the intricate carvings told him that it was of Sindorei origin and that it had probably belonged to a Kaldorei hunter that had wandered this area a good century ago, a small female from the way that the bow was designed.  His feeling is that it should be kept in a museum somewhere so that no further damage would befall it by the rough handling it had already gone through in my hands. 

The adjutant returned loaded down with new leather armor and smiled as he handed the pile over to me.  I was shocked at how heavy the stuff was and how wonderful it all smelled. Naturally, the Commander thanked the adjutant and dismissed him as I started putting on the new stuff.  They fit perfectly, almost as if they were made for me initially.  The boots, oh those first Ranger boots were unbelievable, they fit my feet like a glove would fit a hand and they felt wonderful.  I know that I was totally astonished that the Rangers could do this sort of thing for one of their own.  Well, I was young and didn’t realize that that set of armor has to last you a very long time before you get issued another set or you buy your own.

We were both pleased with the change in my appearance and I will  admit that I was very proud of the image that I caught looking at a mirror that we walked past, heading to the armory to get a properly fitted bow and a weapon, a short sword, possibly.   The new bow that I ended up with was probably three or four times the size of my old bow and the strength required to pull that string back was phenomenal.  I carried the bow for many many years and yes, I can remember the exercises that I did just to build up my arms to where I could pull that bow back with ease in a few weeks. That was where it all began and truly made me the man that I am today….so many years, so man goals and dreams were still in front of me as a young man.      

I know that when I awakened this morning I was just lying there and lingering in my nostalgia.  Obviously, the things that I had dreamt were pretty factual as to what had occurred in my life and even mixing the good with bad, I can still look back on my life and say that it has been good so far and I’m looking forward to many more years with my family and friends.

Well, I guess that’s enough of wallowing around in my dream.  It left me with a good case of the warm fuzzy feelings that you get when you think that things have turned out well at any rate.  I even dreamed about my very first love and the debutante ball that I took her too in Silvermoon, really brought back some good and bad memories.  I will admit that there are times that I wish that Kaldor could have gone into the Rangers like I did, however, with his mixed blood, that would hardly be acceptable. 

Now, I need to set this aside and get on with the business of the day and just be thankful for what I have and to think that I was indeed blessed in the Light with how my life has gone so far. 

 

Fnor Morningstar

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