#veilora

Amber eyes widened in hysteric shock as a whisper grazed his ears. His jaw dropped as he found the breath stolen from his lungs at that moment. His stomach bottomed out as he felt an utter sickness beginning to claim his confidence. And then, that memory played back in his mind that squeezed on his heart. 

Weeks had passed since his father’s death on the front of Arathi. Called upon by Lady Liadrin, Valanath Sunscorn came two to two with the Alliance forces and their own paladins. An unfortunate circumstance considering he had fought alongside a few of these gentlemen in the war against the Legion. The Battle for Azeroth had shed blood and souls that were unnecessary all to support the machinations of some twisted mastermind. But this wasn’t the tale of a universal scheme. No, this was the tale of the loss of a father, a husband, and an honorable knight. 

Veronath recollected running in haste as he always had. With every war, his father always marched amongst the living with a smile on his features, even in the most solemn of losses. From youth, all the way to his full-fledged adulthood, Veronath was always proud to see his father return home. To the arms of his mother and the fireplace within their hearth. His heart thudded with intensity, adrenalized by the stories he would share about the Battle of Arathi. 

“ Minn’da! “He shouted, picking his auburn-haired mother out of the crowd with ease. He shuffled between people, placing his calloused hands upon her shoulder. Mere moments ago, he had been training his use of the blade in practice for his promotion from Adept. “ Minn’da. Did I miss it? I’m so sorry… I hope that I’m not too late. “He couldn’t help but feel by the anxious stare she possessed that he may have done just that. 

“No, no son. He… he’s not here. Or at least, he’s not in formation. “Her voice flowed with a gentleness that was only enunciated by the worry of a beloved wife. Veilora had been known for her kindness. However, out of all the Knight Champions in line, Valanath’s smile was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes desperately darted to find a single sign of him. Just one sign. 

Unfortunately, much to Veronath’s own gaze, he couldn’t even place his father amongst the injured caravans. Even his own heart began to sink. His grasp on his mother tightened as the line of people began to reach its ending. And with it, carriers of the deceased followed. And with it, mother and son would see the first sign of Valanath: His broadsword that no longer emanated with runes of flame. For this day, his fire had burned out. 

Veilora’s entire body trembled as she witnessed the passing, immediately pulling herself from her son’s comfort. All the woman continued to do in the back of her mind was shout -No!- repetitively to herself. Her dress became wrinkled and unkempt. Heels desperately clicking across cobblestone. She couldn’t even hear her own son shouting at him as he tried his damndest to keep up with her. And by the time he made it through the archways that lead to the medical chambers, he starred in the exact same expression we see him in now. Shocked and riddled with anxiety that tore at his insides. The sight of seeing his mother’s face buried into the torso of his father’s was agonizing. Her manicured nails dug into the sheets that covered the rest of his form. And despite the blood-stained features and wily mess of golden-blonde hair, Valanath still managed to return to them with a smile on his features. 

“M-my S-S-Sunshine… My s-sweet... Nooo… Nooooo! “ Veilora wept, tightly clutching to the lifeless body. Her make now runs blackened ink across her dusted features. In her eyes, her own heart was beginning to die with him. The world around her begins to shatter. And all Veronath could do was fall to his knees and allow his own mother to mourn, shedding tears for what was the end of his wonderful father and the beginning of his mother’s own turmoil. 

After a week of dealing with the arrangements and funeral services. Veronath noticed that his mother had become distant. And every chance he got, he tried his best to pull her out of that miserable pit. But without her husband at her bedside, she no longer knew of the rest of an easy mind. No. All she could concentrate on was the warmth she would no longer feel in his arms and this will be carried out for their son, Veronath. A will in the form of a parchment that she would give to her son that day. 

𝑀𝓎 𝓈𝑜𝓃. 𝐼𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈, 𝒾𝓉 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒸𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓂𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝑒𝓁𝒹𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒷𝒶𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓁𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒷𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝓁𝓅𝑒𝒹, 𝐼 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝓅𝑜𝓁𝑜𝑔𝒾𝓏𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓈 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒. 𝒦𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝒻𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓋𝒶𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓉𝓁𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑒𝑒𝓅𝓁𝓎 𝒾𝓂𝒷𝑒𝒹𝒹𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝒶𝓈 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝓁𝒶𝓂𝑒. 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝒶𝒾𝒹, 𝒱𝑒𝓇𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓉𝒽, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒, 𝐸𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝑔𝓁𝑜𝓇𝓎, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝐿𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒹. 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒾𝓃 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃. 𝒫𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒. 𝒲𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻 𝒶 𝓌𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝓁𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝒶𝓈 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝑜 𝓶𝓮. 𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓊𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝓊𝓃𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓇𝓃 𝓁𝑒𝑔𝒶𝒸𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑜𝓎. 𝒦𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓈𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝐵𝓁𝒶𝓏𝑒. 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒻𝒾𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓁𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒, 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝑜𝓉𝒽. 𝓥𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓱 𝓢𝓾𝓷𝓼𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓷

Veronath's memories began to fade, remembering his own mother's words to follow that he must honor the wishes of his father. Not only for his father's honor and belief in him, but for his mother's own heart that dangled on the edges of despair every day.

Tears streamed down his cheeks. Reaching now to wipe them away in recollection of himself now. His fiery brows knitted together as he pensively pushed through that anxiety and fortified his confidence with passion. " Someday, my mother will be reunited with that Ann'da. But mark my words, even if someone took her away from me now, I would not falter from my path. To do so would be a grievous wound to my parents' hearts. "