#illethiann

Part 3 of Vengeance Incarnate.  (Part 2 here.)

~ 18.04.2020

The arcane flares illuminated the sky just down the beach where they lived. Eliendre glanced up with some intrigue. Was it an emergency? Would the guards deal with it? Should they go?

It was one of the things she was never told about. Vellidan did not brief her either. He himself was as detached as she was from the rest of the estate, keeping mainly only to the borders of their own home. She knew her Shan’do saw them too, as she knew that Narindiel would immediately respond. Taryane, however, was away in the city.

Eliendre would have stayed away from the source of the alarm, as she imagined Vellidan would, if not for the sudden presence of multiple armed guardians, and powerful presences of the arcane and the fel. Spellcasting leaves certain traces, and each caster has their own specific pattern when they teleport. Powerful presences made themselves known all of a sudden, and then she heard the most agonising cries. Cries of not just pain. It was as if their very lives were ripped out of those who made them. 

Velldan was ahead of her before she could even spring forward. In no less than two blinks of an eye, they were both at the edge of scene, only Shan’do Sunstorm grabbed her arm, his grip tight as a vise as he spun her to face him.

“Whatever happens, do not let yourself be seen.”

Rei'ann rested her hands against the banister of the balcony outside the Sunfury Spire. She stared at the Court, observing the passers-by dimly illuminated by the lamps around the buildings. A single cigarette - unlit - dangled between the index and middle fingers of her partially gloved right hand. Occasionally, the odd passing mage would greet her. She spared them a bare glance and a nod in return.

She remained that way for a long time - a living statue, regal and unmoving - as she usually was. Faint lines of fatigue rim the lower lids of her eyes, hooded slightly by long dark lashes. They detract not from the piercing glare, that was never meant to be deliberately penetrating most of the time, but became well utilized for most of her purposes regardless.

There was a certain peace to be found in doing absolutely nothing at times. But there was also a certain hollowness.

Rei'ann heard the sound of familiar footfalls approaching her. She nodded at Narindiel as the younger Magistrix appeared beside her, robes singed and slightly soiled from a very recent mission. Narindiel folded her arms and likewise rested them on the banister, her slightly greater height affording a more hunched posture than Rei'ann.

“I thought you were leaving on a campaign.” Narindiel was the first to break the silence.

Rei'ann’s eyes moved towards Narindiel, impassive as ever. “I’ve been busy.” Narindiel rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, apparently uncaring of who saw them at that time of night. She peered at the fresh cigarette in Rei'ann’s hand.

“You’re not here to convince me to join your cause either, are you?” Rei'ann dryly observed Narindiel’s frown in response to her sudden question. 

“I’d only convince you to do something if I thought it’d be wrong otherwise.” Narindiel replied plainly. There’s something off about her tonight, Rei'ann thought to herself. Narindiel’s usual formal stiffness was not present. She looked as if a certain weight had been lifted off her shoulders, even though a thousand burdens still appeared to occupy her mind, if the shadows around her eyes were anything to speak of.

“Do you think it’s wrong of me not to, then?”

Narindiel straightened herself. She puffed out a tired exhale and shrugged. “Why wouldn’t it be what you wanted, because the reasons why it would be are obvious enough.”

“I’m currently committed to another order, one that I tried to commit to before I remarried." 

"And would they understand your difficulty in this commitment, knowing that you are juggling multiple responsibilities at once, including a child?” 

Rei'ann kept her eyes on Narindiel for a moment before she slowly looked away. 

“Why them? We are your family. Who else would you prefer to fight alongside? Who else would you want to protect at your side? It isn’t as if we don’t share the same ideals. Furthermore we’re not under the same constant scrutiny that a number amongst them are, for valid reasons.”

“Windblaze, I left them before, and I returned to them after some measure of convincing for them to allow me to trial once again. It would be more prudent for them to remove me for my inability to commit to their missions, than for me to walk away for a second time. It would reflect badly on me and therefore the name that I carry. At the least if they deemed me unsuitable, then it would be their decision, not mine.”

Narindiel had nought to say against that, though she appeared reticent. After a while, she spoke again.

“Is that the sole reason?”

Rei'ann’s stare hardened. Narindiel stared back, unrelenting in her question. “You’ve been in the background for too long, and for justified reasons. I don’t dispute your longing to return to active duty, because I know you’re not a trophy wife. And I suspect I know your reasons why you’re reluctant-”

“Are you once again presuming to know what I’m thinking, Windblaze?” Rei'ann arched a brow, stare unchanged.

“Yes.” Narindiel refused to back down. “You don’t want to be a trophy wife. You want your autonomy. You don’t want to be a crutch for your husband, whom you know loves you and your children more than his own life. And it’s my duty to tell you that it is all right to be the lifeline for someone, that you’re not alone in being the pillar of support for him. You have the rest of us too. At the very least, we have never left your side, through everything that happened, and he has those who will never leave his either." 

Rei'ann’s demeanour, gaze as penetrating as ever, remained unflinching, even as Narindiel held her eye contact. Somewhere within the depths of the warmage’s chest was a swell of pride, the very same pride she felt when she first saw Narindiel rise above her in strength, and in both political and magical power. It was the same pride she felt when she saw Sylvarys and Natsanna climb their way up their respective ladders in the Spire and the Sunreavers, becoming powerful magi in their own ways. It was the same pride she felt when she watched her own son step up to become Lord for a short while, demonstrating his own talents, without Illethiann or herself ever needing to resort to the harsh methods they themselves were subjected to when they were younger.

But Narindiel, though honorable in her intentions, though good was her heart, was wrong in her presumption.

Although there was a certain peace to be found in doing absolutely nothing at times,  there was also a certain hollow sensation. At times, doing absolutely nothing meant to save an explanation, and allow the other party their misguided train of thought. It made life easier for everyone. Rei'ann would not have to show her own vulnerability. She could not afford to.

Thus, she allowed her expression to soften - forced it to, as she easily could, when she wanted. "I’ll bear that in mind,” was the succinct reply she gave Narindiel.

She felt the blood mage’s eyes on her back as she left, knowing that Narindiel suspected the authenticity of her answer, but also knowing that she would not pursue it, at least not for now.

…

Iridiel Sunglance’s coffin caught the stars’ reflection, in addition to the single lamp that gently illuminated the surrounding patio. The peaceblooms bowed gently in the breeze coming from the sea. The body -preserved by enchantments - appeared to be sleeping.

It was a fitting place of rest for a selfless wife, mother and daughter.

“Don’t be like me.”

Rei'ann could count the few times she said this to those whom she cared about, especially Taryane and Narindiel, when she saw them treading the same paths as herself, in becoming the people they were. 

Although there was a certain peace to be found in doing absolutely nothing at times,  there was also a certain hollow sensation.

And so she discouraged them from the same attitudes, the same trains of thought. She counseled where she could, where her counsel was wanted. 

Amidst her upbringing, Rei'ann was taught to be selfish in order to be selfless. “You cannot rule a House if you cannot look after those within it. You cannot look after those within it if you cannot protect it. You cannot protect if you are yourself vulnerable. Never be vulnerable. Never be weak. If you know you are weak, you will never show it." 

She could not remember the former Lady Silverfire, her grandmother. She never existed when she was born. Died, it was said, when she birthed her father - unusual for an elf to die from such a cause, but no one questioned it. She remembered her mother, from her early childhood, who gradually became a non-entity as she grew older, kept away from her for fear of ruining the esteemed way a Silverfire was brought up.

Rei'ann’s greatest desire was to see her family thrive and live. It was her purpose to protect House and home, to protect their land. Even if she gave her life to do so, she would have fulfilled her purpose. Her grandfather, though he showed no affection, did not mean that he did not care about the same.

While Rei'ann knew both her father and grandfather loathed her mother, she  wondered for the first time, whether her grandfather ever loved her grandmother when she was alive.

She wondered for the first time, how her grandfather would have reacted if he had survived the Fall. He could not have protected his entire House and home against the Scourge, but he did protect part of it, by establishing a a part of his household elsewhere. It was because of him that Rei'ann and many others, including Narindiel, still lived today.

Narindiel was wrong in her presumption that Rei’ann feared being a crutch for Illethiann.

It was Rei'ann herself who feared that Illethiann had become a crutch for herself, to the point that she could not imagine a life without him. To the point that when the time came, she would not be able to let go, that she could not fulfill her purpose because of her emotions.

Her emotions that made her try to find her ex-husband when he disappeared, bringing unwanted side effects to her son. Nivendi’en’s condition was her fault.

Her emotions that saw her try to protect Narindiel when the latter lost her temper and nearly killed them both.

Her emotions that prompted her to find Vellidan to track down a demon in order to save Illethiann's life, at any cost, completely disregarding her own safety at that time.

“Don’t be like me.”

Rei’ann brought the unlit cigarette to her lips. It ignited at the end and smouldered.

Don’t be a coward like me, too proud, too broken, too full of regrets, too torn between tradition and reality. Too undeserving of a husband who does not fear like I do.

She took a deep drag.

Be like Iridiel.

She held her breath, letting the familiar burning sensation penetrate her airways, before exhaling a stream of smoke. She eyed the cigarette.

Is a bad habit stronger than myself?

Many months ago, this thing called the Thori’belore started. It was a collection of three idiots going to make a name in the RP community as a serious guild true to their principles. 

So we did... and naturally, this was born: 

“To walk the path of a leader, is to walk the path of a stranger. It is being a person covered in layers and layers of personalities, so that everyone thinks they understand you, while in truth, nobody does.. Except those you choose to understand you.”

Thael’rin Sunstrike, Sylvarys Farhollow; two elves well known within the Firestar estate. Both are an example of loyalty and dedication for every member in the Household. Since the passing of both Lady and Lord Firestar, they have been having daily conversations about the future of the Household. They discuss the future of the Firestar magi, both felmancer and non-felusers, the new system of training for the Knight of the Hall of Blood and the studies of Farhollow his many students.

It was during their daily meeting and stroll through the Firestar Estate, that they both saw the most interesting event. They saw, on the far edge of the estate, two elves dancing. Both Lady Rei’ann Firestar and Lord Illethiann Firestar were looking in each other’s eyes, while dancing slowly, as if the world forgot about them and they didn’t care, as they had their world in each other’s hands. Both elves looked is disbelief, both because they saw them dancing and that they has passed during the battle on Argus. Both epitome of their craft walked towards the two elves, until they saw the reason they were there. Nivendi’en Firestar was sitting on a bench, observing the illusion he created, a soft smile upon his face and happiness in his eyes. Both elves stared towards him for what seemed seconds, but in truth, were hours.

Thael’rin: “We should go, these are our Lords private matters and we have overstayed our welcome here for too long.” Farhollow smiled faintly and nodded once. Thael’rin understood the pain within Farhollow his chest, the moment Lord Firestar died. Not everyone knew how the Archmage saw Illethiann as his son and even less knew how Illethiann saw old Farhollow as a father. They say Farhollow unleashed a flurry of arcane ice towards Argus the moment he heard, they say his rage matched that of a beserking orc. It was until little Taryane Firestar hugged his leg, that he stopped trying to reach the planet in hopeless rage with the arcane. They say it was her touch, her kindness that made Farhollow his emotions turn into that of a leader once more.

It was the moment both Elves turned to leave the young Lord to his business that a loud explosion could be heard from the location of the illusions. Nivendi’en had destroyed the illusion with an explosion of arcane fire, the very same way both his parents passed away. The expression on his face was that of anger, rage.

Nivendi’en: “WEAKLINGS!”

His voice echoed so loud even Farhollow and Sunstrike were able to hear it. Farhollow turned, to quickly rush over to his Lord, was it not for Thael’rin Sunstrike his hand on his shoulder.

Thael’rin: “We all grief in our own way, Archmage. Why would you try to stop his?” Sylvarys turned his face towards Thael’rin: “I understand his grief, Sunstrike.. But by all means, nobody speaks about them that way, not even their own son!” Thael’in would remove his hand from his shoulder and nod once, slowly turning around to leave the archmage to do that what he thought was right: “Go lecture him then. Tell him like everyone else how they were heroes, how they saved those elves and killed the Dreadlord. Tell him that what they did was right and that they are death for a good cause. But before you do.. think how you would react when they told you the same about my sister. Imagine how you would feel, Archmage. Don’t you think the young Lord cares not for what they did or who they saved? He didn’t need them to be heroes, Sylvarys.. He needed them to be parents.”

It was the moment Thael’rin his speech ended that Farhollow lowered his head. The Knight-Champion bowed his head in respect and slowly walked further, while Farhollow walked towards Nivendi’en and simply embraced him and stayed there, for as long as his young Lord needed him to be.

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The next few days were a rare sight both within the Spire and Estate. It seemed Nivendi’en Firestar was never alone the last few days. Every meeting, every training session, every ball or special occasion his number one was at his side. It seemed she made him happy, just like she did with both Lord and Lady Firestar. Taryane Firestar was his happiness. Everywhere she went the doors were open, everyone in the estate knew her and she knew everyone in the estate. Even the most grumpy felmancer, the most vain elf smiled and welcomed her with open arms. She truly, is -the- Firestar.

“Sometimes, what we want most, is there beside us.. But because of what others make us think we want, we oversee this. Always look to your left and right, it is there that it might be hidden.”

Nivendi’en Firestar smiled towards his little sister, as he made her levitate over the fountain within the estate, making her giggle, like only someone so pure-hearted and innocent as she can.

There were things that Rei'ann never told Illethiann early on in their courtship, that he eventually came to know from trust and closeness as her spouse.

One of them was what was done to her by her grandfather and father. The other was how she faithfully tried to look up Mor'denath in the aftermath of his disappearance, carrying Nivendi'en first inside her, and then after he was born.

Taryane was not the only child who was cursed with abnormal aging. To a smaller, much less severe, and reversible extent, so was Nivendi'en, although in a different way, for a different reason: sentiment.

Rei'ann never stopped blaming herself for what happened to Sylvarys, but more so, she blamed herself for Nivendi'en’s condition.

Throughout her entire pregnancy, she ventured to Coldarra daily, in the hours that were meant to be for herself alone, away from duty to her household and to the Spire and her people. She knew her then-husband would be there, if anywhere. Few reached as far as she managed to reach each time, and even then, it was variable. Most of the time, there were wards and barriers that either took too much time to break, or because she simply could not. At other times, there was a single or couple of them, peering at her in silence, as if daring her to go past them. They might have recognized her from the Nexus wars years ago, perhaps, or they merely would not allow her to pass, knowing why she was there.

The place, over the confluence of leylines, had always been somewhat unstable. As one ventured deeper into the complex that was the nexus, the anomalies increased in frequency and intensity. Space was not so much warped as time - the Flight knew to control who and what went where, but time mattered little to them.

She should have known much earlier, but herself used to chronomancy, was able to stablise what lines of time were warped and unstable around her, that could tear apart a less proficient person. Nivendi'en, while she was pregnant, was shielded as he was part of her. It was after he was born, that Rei'ann, still holding hope to that he could see his father, that she could see her husband, brought him on her visits. She could not shield him as well as she thought she could.

Her visits continued, even when her mind was in a blank haze, discovering Sylvarys’ body. They continued even when she discovered that Mor'denath already had a family before he married her. They continued, as if Rei'ann remained in a state of denial, clinging onto blind loyalty, because that was how she was. They continued even though Nivendi'en, supposedly two years old, toddled beside her as the physical four year old he was.

It was Narindiel who eventually found them both, as she was once again trying to navigate through a temporal rift.

“Come back,” she pleaded to Rei'ann. “You are neglecting those who care for you. You are blind to what is happening to your son. Is this all worth it? He is never coming back. He lied to you. There are better people.. there is a better elf who loves you.”

Months later, they cremated Sylvarys’ apparent corpse, after the elf called Var'denath Dawnlight died. Nivendi'en was supposed to be three. He was as tall and as clever and confident as expected for a six year old. He was younger than the twins, but in a few more months, would exceed their growth, towering above them as they, being children, still played with him without question.

Rei'ann did what she could to reverse the time warped around her son, that made him age faster than he was supposed to, at an exponential rate. Narindiel, along with the other Transmutation Masters of her staff, helped where they could, but the damage was already done.

Eventually, for whatever time it took to cumulatively build up the temporal damage from powerful, unstable rifts, it took five times as long to slow it down to normalcy via more normal means.

Taryane was born when Nivendi'en was physically eight. By the time, with Archmage Farhollow’s aid, the abnormality around him was slowed back to normal, he was fourteen. But Taryane, cursed with an affliction that made Nivendi'en’s condition look like child’s play, was sixteen. Rei'ann watched as he mourned the departure of his best friend to the Hall of Blood. She was silent, when he begged her to make time go faster for him again, because he wanted to grow up like Taryane, and go out into the world and protect their home, because Ann'da was unconscious, and he didn’t want his mother to be carrying burdens like she used to.

Little Flower, he used to call Taryane. Rei'ann, like the mother she was, never failed to play at being ignorant when it came to knowing whom her son referred to, just as she pretended to be ignorant of her son’s affection for Narindiel’s daughter, and his underlying desire to go back to his friend’s side.

Nivendi'en surpassed herself and Illethiann. It was likely that he surpassed Mor'denath as well. Rei'ann never questioned him when she saw how he subtly grew up faster than Taryane. It was after he turned eighteen, and finally allowed to hold the title and, put to the test by all those who taught him, trained him, who were his guardians, that he was finally allowed to make his own decision to leave the safety of home, and fight beside Taryane, as he always wanted to. It was after that time, that Rei'ann and Illethiann knew that Nivendi'en finally stabilized the time around himself - he was about Taryane’s age now - or maybe a few months to a year older, because he would always be older than her, no matter when or where in the cosmos they were.

Illethiann understood - or, he seemed to. He loved his stepson as if he was his own, and his own, he made him. Nivendi'en took on his traits as he inherited hers and Mor'denath’s, though his down-to-earth-ness deep inside was more like Narindiel than it was any of his three parents. Perhaps it was Taryane’s influence, perhaps it was her mother’s. Either way, both Rei'ann and Illethiann were thankful.

Rei'ann watched the scrying orb, focusing on the faces of both Nivendi'en and Taryane as they faced her ex-husband. She could imagine what Mor'denath Dawnlight was thinking then and there.

I presume the reason you have not looked for me to confront me so far, despite your apparent anger and unhappiness with me, is that you know deep inside that you have no ground to stand on.

But of course, you claim that you were taken against your will, that you had no choice. You claim that you loved me. You claim you were hurt by how I “sold our son” to my current husband and gave him his name instead of yours.

What I find hilarious is how you can claim to have loved me yet hate me for these reasons, in the same breath.

Allow me to enlighten you:

I knew why you disappeared.

I went to Coldarra, every single chance I could, outside duties at home - our home - and outside official duties. I did this carrying Nivendi'en in my womb and after he was born. Almost every day, I faithfully went there to ask to see you. I was never successful. Did you know this? No, you did not. Well, now you do.

Did you ever struggle? Did you ever protest? I would have comforted me a little to know, back then, that you did, but I remember your placid acceptance when they came to warn you, before you disappeared. I remember their same offer to myself, when one of them sat in our home then, to speak to you about it. I said no. I would never do it, knowing that I carried our child, knowing that I have a duty to our homeland and our people. But you - you accepted it, without so much as a protest.

Power is something we all want, is it not? Even beyond love.

I eventually stopped going to try to see you, because I discovered your lies.

I might have forgiven you for never telling me, in all the time I have known you, about your previous family, that you have a grown daughter.

But keeping Sylvarys’ body in its state?

I read your tomes hidden in your private library. I figured out why you did so.

And my eyes were opened to your selfishness. The selfishness you kept from your wife, whom you claim to have loved.

Oh, I never gave Nivendi'en my husband’s name. The name he bears is of the one that my husband and I chose together, that we both now bear. Before that, Nivendi'en bore both my name as well as yours. This -is- after all a new start for him and myself, for Nivendi'en, and for every single person we lead and are responsible for in our respective households. It is what being a Sin'dorei is about, is it not? New beginnings, being reborn from he ashes and being stronger than ever.

But you wouldn’t know that would you?

Do you still Illusion your eyes, by the way?

You hate me, resent me, are angry at me because he no longer bears your name.

See, it is interesting: my husband wanted to give up his name to take mine, despite coming from a lineage as old as yours and mine. He would do so, because my son and I are more important to him than a name.

You, however, would hate me for changing our son’s name to a new one that I had chosen for us.

What is love to you, that you’d say you love your then-wife, yet your actions and words and attitude show otherwise?

I could possibly forgive you your delusions of grandeur, your power hunger so great you’d placidly accept your fate by your new kin (who, by the way, are struggling in the Broken Isles, I wonder why you’re not with them and are instead lingering in Silvermoon pretending to be a Magister), that you’d lie to me about your previous family, that you abandoned me and our son.

But I will never forgive how you can lie about how you love me, when you clearly do not, and probably never did.

I will never forgive your selfishness in the suffering that you brought your apprentice, your brother-in-law then.

Above that, I will never forgive you for viewing Nivendi'en as a commodity and not a person, for seeing him as merely a vessel who exists only to carry your name. Don’t you dare to deny this, for why else would you hate me this much and be so angry at me? You never knew your flesh and blood. You were never there. Even when you came back, you did not care enough to even seek myself out to see him. Your anger was more important for you to nurse and harbour. Your pride was more important. Truly, you care as a father, don’t you?

So, Lord Dawnlight, you truly have no right to be angry at me, given everything. You were the one who broke my heart. I had to move on for myself and for the child you sired while you mingled with your new brethren in your new life in your new lair. How you dare even imply that I am a bad mother, to accuse me of “selling our son”, is beyond me.

I am with a better elf, who is my husband. He is everything you are not, and you have never been.

And if you dare to use Nivendi'en, manipulate him as you did Sylvarys, if you ever hurt him in any way, even emotionally, you can be sure that I will not sit back idly, and neither will his father, or anyone else who truly loves him.

7 years ago

N: “So you mean that when I am old enough, I have to be like you?” I: “No, you’ll have to be better than me.” N: “Well, I can make everyone play Hide and Seek? Is that a good way to make everyone happy?” I: “I am afraid there won’t be a place for such a games, Nivendi’en.” N: “What about bandit and Knight? There’s always room for that, isn’t it?” I: “I am afraid, that once you’re Lord, once you’re adult, there’s no room for any of that.” Nivendi’en frowns, as he looks towards Illethiann. N: “You mean, there is no room for fun?” Illethiann smiles towards the young elf and shakes his head. I: “I’m afraid not.” N: “Then why would anyone want to become an adult?!”

Nivendi’en slowly poked Taryane with a stick of the biggest tree within the estate, making Taryane jump with a fright. N: “You’re it!” Taryane frowns, raising both her hands. T: “Unfair Vendi’en! No sticks allowed!” N: “But I am the Grand-Magister and this is my staff! A mage is nothing without his staff!“ Taryane looks around, picking up one of the bigger branches around them, as he holds it out in front of her, with the determinate look typical for her. Her posture, for a eight year old, strong and powerful, especially considering she’s untrained. Nivendi’en smirked, slowly holding his stick in front of him too, as the young elf charges towards Taryane. Both of them clashed against each other with their sticks, parrying, dodging and hitting each other with no remorse. Their small fragile hands bleeding from the several hits they received and the splinters that were left in their hands because of it. After several of hours playing Knights, both crawled in the tree overlooking the sea. Both close to each other as they smiled towards the sun. A sun that was slowly sinking into the water. T: “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” N: “It’s just the sun, Taryane.. We see it every day.” T: “Does that mean we can’t find it pretty? Ann’da see Min’da each other every day.. And he finds her still pretty.” N: “That’s different.” T: “Why?” N: “Because it’s a boy-girl thing. It’s for making babies.” T: “Making babies?” N: “Yes.. A boy can only make babies with a girl if he finds her pretty.” T: “Oh no! Then I think I might have a baby with the boy from Magister Fireshard!” N: “Why do you say that?” Taryane blushes, “Because he’s pretty..” N: “It doesn’t work that way, silly.. He needs to find you pretty.” T: “That’s good. I don’t want to marry him.” N: “Ma-.. What do you mean?” T: “Well, you need to marry when you have a baby? Or when you find someone pretty?” N: “I guess.. I will never marry.. You need to kiss girls and holds hands. Who wants to do that with girls! They only complain about their hair. Ha!” Taryane frowns, giving Nivendi’en a good punch on his shoulder. N: “Hey! What’s that good for!” T: “I am a girl you meanie!” N: “No you’re not.. Well, yes you are.. But you’re you..” T: “And what’s so different about me then!?” N: “Well.. I can’t kiss you.. you’re my best friend. Who else do I need to beat in sword fights then?” T: “You mean get beaten by!” Nivendi’en smirks, giving Taryane a gentle push, before they slowly peer towards the sun once more.”

I: “We become adults, because we have to protect that we love. Your wife, your family, your people..” N: “I promised Taryane and the twins to protect them. Is that being an adult too?” Illethiann smiles, placing his hand on the young elf his head. I: “That’s being more than just that, my son. That’s being a friend.” N: “Can I still have friends as an adult?” I: “Of course and so much more.” Nivendi’en smiles, slowly clasping his hands around his father’s legs before he rushes back inside the room, preparing himself for bed.