Arka'lthon Starrunner

((Open to comments and suggestions. Still a work in progress.))

Entry- Today, my son is born. It is in the waning hours of evening’s twilight that his first cries reach towards the heavens, and bring tears to my eyes. I have but a few moments with him before I am pulled away to carry out my duties as a Paladin. It is in those few moments that my wife and I give him a name. A good, strong name. My son, Arka’lthon. I am as proud as I have ever been.

Entry- It has been two years since my son’s birth. He has grown so much in such a short amount of time. Even though I have been gone since his birth, he seems to recognize me swiftly, moving towards me with only a slight trepidation at first, and then a toddler’s glee soon there after. His eyes are a crystalline blue, almost frighteningly so, with the first tinges of green dancing in his iris’ from his steady saturation of the Sunwell’s energies. He has a strong set jaw, and I can already tell he will have the build of a warrior. My heart leaps at the prospect of him becoming a Paladin like myself.

I watch him grow over the next one and one half hands of years. Though still a child, and forever my child, I know already that he will be a fine man. He has shot up like a tree, going from being just knee high, to standing very near my chin already. His shoulders are broad, and his body is lean with a natural athletic tone from his constant running around and playing. I gave him a wooden training sword for his birthday this year, in hopes of nudging him towards taking up the mantle of a Paladin; and, to my elation- he loves it. Other children gather strong branches and challenge him to playful duels all day long. My wife has been furious with me each time he comes home with some new injury from the day’s adventure; however, I can only smile. He has a bright future ahead of him.

Entry- I hardly recognize him as the small child I once knew. It has been eleven short summers since I gave him that wooden sword, and already he towers over me by two and one half hand’s length. His hair is as golden as the sun, and his eyes are as bright a green as I have ever seen- a power deep within emanating strongly from his gaze. His smile has already caught and broken the hearts of several young women, and will continue to do so for some time I think. I spar with him daily, and though I best him each time, I feel that will soon change. He thinks and reacts with the speed of brilliant general, and strikes with his blade even faster than he thinks. On the day that I was recognized as a Master within the order, he took the pledge of an initiate, and began his proper Paladin training. I am as proud as the day he was born.

Entry- I have been away from home for some two and one half hands of years. I receive letters from my wife almost daily, and from my son more sporadically. He has become a fully fledged Paladin in such a short amount of time, a ceremony I shall forever regret being away for. The letter from my wife detailing it is stained with tears, and the letter from my son is written in a hand obviously shaken from the events. I can do nothing but send him a gift, a small display of how happy I am for him, and of how proud he has made me. It is hammer, with our family’s crest etched into it, runes of holy protection scrawled around it. My only hope is that it is always at his side, ready to protect him as fiercely as I myself would.

Entry- One and one half hands of years have passed since I last saw my son. The last letter I have had from him brought fatherly tears to my eyes. He has become engaged to a fellow Paladin. He speaks of her with such a fondness that I know she is his true love- his everything. I am unable to reply with anything more than a simple sentence, for I am overwhelmed with joy. “I am so proud of you, Arka’lthon.”

Entry- War consumes Azeroth as the Orcish Horde is released unto the lands through the Dark Portal. Though our cities remain unaffected, and our people remain largely uninvolved, my son has seen battle to learn of our possible enemies, and my heart has feared for him. He has written to me of the first life he has taken. His scrawl is more jagged than the day he became a full Knight, his words slanted and edged with raw emotion. His fiancé attempts to calm him, he says, but he writes that the feel of hammer against body, the sound of crushing bones, and the sight of blood drawn by his hand shall never leave him. I am unable to calm him through our correspondence, though I know he shall be alright. He is stronger than I was when I took my first life.

Entry- Time passes by far too swiftly for my liking. I have only seen my son twice since the First War. He has yet to wed, as both he and his wife-to-be are constantly apart carrying out their sworn duties. Much to my chagrin, our people become involved with the affairs of the Humans, and join an alliance against the invading Orcish Horde. Arka’lthon has been sent to battle, and once more I know fear for him. Multiple successful campaigns are seen through, and my son receives honors for all that he is a part of. Though I fear for him, I know it is what he is meant to do.

Entry- The letter from my wife was delivered some one hand of months ago. As had happened before, tears were brought to my eyes, but not for good reasons. This entry is riddled with tears of pain at the torment my son has gone through. The very war that prevented his wedding to his fiancé would take his fiancé from him forever. In the midst of battle, the one thing person that meant everything to my son was taken from him, right in front of him. My wife says he has spoken to no one in over a month, and has scarcely left his home more than twice. I retire from my service as a Paladin, knowing where I am needed most.

Entry- The man I see when I return home is no longer my son. War changes people, as does death. His once brilliant green eyes seem cold and distant now, his words edged to cut and venomous to the ears. I have not seen his lips curl into anything but a dangerous scowl, and I have seen him do nothing but train. If he sleeps, I do not see it. My heart is torn at what he has become, and I know there is nothing I can do to help him. My wife is heartbroken, and has fallen ill, and I am overwhelmed by the pain that I must hide. For the sake of my family, I must remain strong now, when they need me most.

Entry- It has been some two hands of years since my son descended down the spiral of pain. My wife has passed on, unable to overcome the grief that had set upon her. My life is empty, and continues only because of the promise I made to my love in her last moments. I would see my son smile once more, or I would die trying. My son has fallen deeper along the spiral at his mother’s death, and I fear I will be unable to follow through on my promise.

Entry- I am stricken by a grief stronger than any I have felt aside from that cause by my wife’s death. A third war has broken out, and destroyed our homeland. A black scar marks the land, and will forever stand tainted, and serve as a reminder of that dark day. The human prince Arthas invaded, claiming the lives of most of our people. I watched in horror as my son moved to defend his homeland, and I cried out in pain as the Prince’s blade tore through my son as if he were nothing more than paper. I shake uncontrollably as the Prince lifts his hand and my son rises, joining the ranks of an ever growing army of Undead. I throw myself into the throng of battle, and find myself matching weapons with my son. For the last time, I best him, but hesitate in dealing the finishing blow. He escapes my reach, and leaves battle- the Sunwell is corrupted.

I have no reason to go on. I leave this journal in the hopes that one day, it reaches my son, and frees him.

Dying was just like falling asleep at that point. I let go, and there I was. Though I died, I am not so sure I experienced the true afterlife. There was no long tunnel with a light at the end. I was never surrounded by flames. There was just… Nothing. No darkness, nor light. No time, nor space. Perhaps I no longer existed.

No, that’s not right. I had to have existed, because I recall something. A feeling, only not. I remember the dual warmth and chill of my wound spreading still. Though I was dead, and no longer connected to the physical world, I could still feel where Arthas’ blade had ended me. I wondered if it would be like this for all of eternity, a state of being, and a life of nonexistence. But like death had been falling asleep, I would soon find myself waking up. It wouldn’t be the same as being alive, though. I woke, and I knew I had indeed awoken, because my awareness was different. The first thing I noticed was that, for the first time in what felt like years- though had only been minutes, my eyes were willing. With great effort, I opened my eyes, and saw what something deep inside me once called home. Only, I couldn’t call it such now.

For a brief moment, what looked normal to me suddenly became a bright blue light, as I doubled over in unimaginable pain, and the whispers began. As the light faded, and the pain vanished, I looked once more at Silvermoon City, and saw something foreign and strange. My vision was a barren black waste, with flowing wind like apparitions marking where something was in life. ((Reference http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dpe6oH2jZjM&feature=related for the world around Frodo while wearing the ring.)) The whispers filled my mind, and slowly tinges of color filled the flowing winds, giving me direction.