Defender of the Light

Oh, what a day it’s been.  All good.  All very, very good.

I’ve been stationed in Lakeshire, as I’ve mentioned before, and do they seriously have a problem.  Orcs are becoming a stronger force to be reckoned with, and the people are crying out to help.  The Mayor was so overwhelmed, I was sent to Stormwind to see if they could provide back-up.  They couldn’t, so the Mayor of Lakeshire sent me to Westfall, to see if the garrison out there could help.  They couldn’t.  I was sent to Darkshire (a dreary place; more on that momentarily), but they couldn’t help either.

I also met a most–interesting–woman today, a member of the Kal’dorei, or a “Night Elf”, in the Common tongue.  She was definitely alluring, and I found myself talking to her for hours.  I was watching them build ships out at the harbor.  I met her at just past noon, and we parted well after dusk.

She’s a tinker, like me, and she’s outspoken.  She gets to the heart of a problem without brute force–at least without unnecessary force.  She–she prodded me, gently enough in fashion, though, to speak of some of my secrets, and provided a few of hers.  I’m–different.  I always knew that.  The human world tells their children to grow up, girls marry boys and vice versa, and they raise children together.  Me, I–that’s not who I am.  I don’t–I can’t really feel that sort of thing for a boy, so–I’m sort of ashamed about it.  Here  I am, a growing warrior of truth and mercy, a Defender of the Light–feeling shame for being who I am.

Aerima, though–she talked with me about that, and I discovered that, perhaps, that view is a uniquely human one.  In her culture, according to her, it’s different.  Marriages are differently structured, with men and women having, on occasion, multiple partners–without undue regard to gender.  She seemed somewhat surprised, even mildly enraged, that I hadn’t been raised similarly.  Oh, how I wished to be Kal’dorei.

We talked more, and discovered we had much in common.  Though neither of us really have a problem with others taking numerous partners, we’re both fiercely loyal to one person, and we both enjoy talking about a variety of subjects.  After a while, she got me onto talking about my past, my history with lovers.  I admitted that I’d been with a boy only once and, though he was the kindest and gentlest of men, a man women would surely fight to have–it wasn’t for me.

I then spoke of a brief, and nowhere near as intimate, encounter with a woman–and that was me.  That–that was what my heart and soul both cried out for.  And yet–my family loves me, I know this.  They adore me–but they also have expectations.  The same expectations I’ve heard many people in Stormwind espouse.  Expectations that I will be a valiant warrior–who will one day raise a family with a man.  I don’t know how to tell them that that just isn’t me.

I–well.  We talked for a while, and she asked what kissing a woman was like.  I–admit to feeling brazen, bold–and offered to show her.  She accepted and–we kissed!  Oh, it was–startlingly different.  Her skin had just a slightly different texture than any human’s–yet that isn’t a bad thing!  Mmm.

We talked for a while, and we both, again, are fiercely loyal–and she already has a man she’s waiting for, who disappeared on her.  I hope she finds him–well.  I mostly hope she finds him.  There’s a part of me,  I admit, that would not complain if she gave up.

But–I couldn’t really want that.  If that were me, I’d feel so horrid, so how can I wish that on someone else?  Ah.

Anyway.  We talked for a good time yet, and then she had to leave on urgent business.  I was on my way to Stormwind on another errand when I ran into Albrekt, a tailor I’ve known for a while.  We talked for a bit, about his enlisting in the military, and my deciding whether to ask to be stationed at Loch Modan or go with what would likely happen and be stationed at Darkshire.

Loch Modan is beautiful–home of Gnomes and Dwarves, green hills, bright skies.  Darkshire is–dreary.  Dreadful.  And always under watch from invasion from the myriad demons and risen dead that plague them.  As I spoke with Albrekt, I realized that my duty was more important than my desires, so I mentioned likely actually deciding to ask to be stationed in Darkshire.

We spoke a bit longer, and the topic came to dresses.  That is my weakness, comparable to my curiosity about how things work.  He showed me this dress that could only have come from the Sin’dorei, or Blood Elf, lands.  It was so beautiful–yet, as usual, I had but a handful of silver on me and naught more.  We thought to barter, but in the end–he gave it to me.  For free.  He said that as a citizen, he wanted to reward someone for thinking of duty, honor, and defense of citizenry above onself.  Oh, I was overjoyed.  I had to put it on as soon as possible.

I did, though, have to give him a spare mechanical squirrel that I happened to have in my toolbox.  It could be a companion, I told him, and draw potential buyers’ eyes, as he’d mentioned trades had become sparse of late.  I’ll repay him more, later.

All in all–today has been a wonderful day.  I only wish more would be like it–though with Darkshire in my future, I must admit a sense of unlikeliness.  Yet–one never knows, hmm?

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