Chapter 19: Chapter 1
Under the relentless downpour, Brennadam's evolution from a modest town to a burgeoning city was vividly evident. The town had flourished into a cityscape, with hundreds of half-constructed houses reaching as far as the eye can see. Towering walls now encircled the city, imposing guardians that instilled a sense of security amidst the growth. The once-unassuming harbor had become a bustling nexus, where a myriad of boats and ships found refuge, their masts swaying gently with the rhythm of the rain.
Navigating the now-labyrinthine cobbled streets of the city felt like an odyssey in itself. The path that once seemed straightforward had transformed into a web of twists and turns, reflecting the complexity of a place in perpetual motion. Yet, despite the convoluted pathways, a singular destination remained true: the heart of the city. It was here that a monumental statue held court, a towering tribute to bravery and unity. A figure of a resolute man, sword and shield in hand, was accompanied by a young boy, their eyes staring at the horizon. This was a depiction of Anduin Lothar and the embodiment of his legacy, Thorwin, a beacon of inspiration for all who beheld it.
As the rain painted the scene with its melancholic brushstrokes, the streets were thronged with a diverse multitude. An assembly of races from across Azeroth had converged, their collective gaze affixed to the imposing statue above. This sentinel of stone bore the weight of their collective hopes and memories. The man it represented, Anduin Lothar, the Lion of Azeroth, had paid the ultimate price in the climactic battle against the horde warchief, Ogrim Doomhammer. The storm of emotions surrounding his sacrifice was palpable, even as the torrential rain veiled the tears that mingled with the downpour. This statue, both his resting place and legacy, will never be forgotten, for it is he who had united everyone against the tides of darkness.
"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed leaders and noble souls who gather here today,"
Among the crowd, Thorwin stood, his emotions a tempest that rivaled the rain. His grief, his anger, and his determination interwove within him, a maelstrom of conflicting feelings. As Alonsus Faol began his eulogy, Thorwin's gaze shifted to Turalyon, the man who had succeeded Lothar's leadership. The same man who had spared Doomhammer's life, an act that gnawed at Thorwin's heart. His eyes, burning with resentment, then shifted to King Terenas. While the king could have executed the orc, he had instead chosen a path of mercy, sparing the orc's life, Thorwin's pain gave rise to anger, branding them all as traitors in his eyes.
"Anduin Lothar, a name that resonates through history as a beacon of hope and valor," Alonsus began, his voice carrying the weight of the hero's legacy. "In these days after the Second War's tumult, as we seek to find our footing amidst the aftermath, we find solace in the memory of a man who gave his all for Azeroth. Lothar's spirit, resolute and unyielding, will forever serve as a reminder of the heights that courage and dedication can reach."
The crowd, an assembly of races united in purpose, stood in quiet admiration. The memory of Lothar, the embodiment of the Alliance's ideals, was a reminder that in the face of adversity, their unity was their strength. Alonsus's words painted the picture of a leader who embodied not just the battlefield prowess, but also the compassionate heart that guided him.
"He led not with just might, but with heart. Lothar's very being was a manifestation of our shared principles. His leadership was a fusion of strength and empathy, a testament to his unwavering love for his people, his home. He navigated the storms of war with a heart aflame with love for his homeland, holding the beacon of hope high amidst the darkest nights."
Thorwin, among the mourners, felt the resonance of Alonsus's words. His gaze shifted toward the statue of Lothar and him, a representation of legacy that would endure through generations. Amidst the crowd, his eyes met Alonsus's, a momentary connection that spoke of understanding and empathy. Thorwin's anger, previously ignited by the presence of Turalyon, momentarily ebbed.
"And now, as we bid farewell to a titan of our times, let us not sink in sorrow alone," Alonsus's voice carried a gentle cadence, "but let us also celebrate the legacy he leaves behind. Anduin Lothar will forever be synonymous with the indomitable spirit of unity that binds our diverse races, our hopes, and our dreams."
The words seemed to reach out, embracing each individual present, weaving a tapestry of shared purpose. The rain, which had fallen heavily during the eulogy, appeared to respond to Alonsus's sentiment. As he concluded his final words, the rain began to taper off, and rays of light pierced through the parting clouds, casting a warm glow over the statue.
"As we remember his valor, let us also honor the principles he held dear. Justice, unity, and the unwavering belief that even in the face of darkness, the light within us shall never falter," Alonsus continued. "And so, as we bid farewell to a hero, let us carry his legacy forward with determination. May his memory be a guiding light in our hearts, a testament to our resolute spirit. Rest in peace, Anduin Lothar, for you have earned your place among the stars."
Thorwin's gaze remained fixed on the imposing statue of Anduin Lothar, even as the eulogy's words reverberated through the air, settling heavily in his heart. He felt the weight of grief press down upon him, an ache that seemed to grow with each passing moment. The rain had ceased, but the tears flowed freely among the mourners, mingling with the raindrops that still clung to their faces. It was a somber sea of faces, each one marked by sorrow and loss, each one a testament to the impact of the fallen hero.
His eyes dared not stray to his right, for he knew the devastation he would see there. His mother, Adriana, held in the tender embrace of his father, her sobs a haunting melody of pain. She was the embodiment of strength, a pillar of resilience, but even the mightiest of trees could be felled by the fiercest storm. Anduin Lothar's departure had struck at the heart of their family, the absence of a father and a grandfather leaving a void that could never be filled.
In the midst of this sea of grief, a voice, fragile yet determined, reached out to him. "Thorwin." Jaina's voice, a balm amidst the turmoil, broke through his reverie. He turned to her, meeting her tear-stained eyes, windows into a soul that shared his pain. Her hand reached for his arm, her touch a lifeline in the storm of emotions. It was a touch that spoke volumes, a touch that understood the depth of his loss.
Without a word, he responded to her silent invitation, enfolding her in an embrace that conveyed more than words ever could. Their hearts beat in sync, the rhythm of shared sorrow and shared memories. In each other's arms, they found a fleeting solace, a moment of respite from the world's cruel wounds. And as they held each other, the rain-washed city seemed to stand still, as if paying homage to the warmth of two children.
The solemn ceremony came to its poignant end, and the assembled kings and nobles were led to the newly christened Stormsong Keep, a majestic castle that perched atop a hill, its walls a testament to both ongoing construction and the unyielding strength of the Stormsong family. The war had not only reshaped the land, but it had transformed every heart present, a fact that resonated in the fortress's every stone. In the company of their parents, Thorwin and Jaina walked hand in hand, their steps echoed through the path leading to the keep. Their elite family guards followed in their wake, a testament to the power they were destined to inherit. Amidst the murmurs and rustling of robes, the conversation between Caspian and Daelin reached the ears of the young duo. It was as if an unspoken agreement had been forged, granting Thorwin and Jaina insight into the adults' deliberations.
Caspian's voice held a heavy disappointment, his tone reflecting the clash of ideals. "To think that King Terenas would propose such lunacy. He aims to handle the orcs, Daelin. The same orcs that left thousands of our brethren slain. My father-in-law did not lay down his life so they could find refuge in camps."
Daelin, his voice a steadying presence, responded with calm wisdom. "Patience, Caspian. Despite our differences, we must stand united with the king."
Caspian's frustration was palpable. "He is no king of mine, Daelin. We bled on the frontlines while he occupied his throne, and now he deems himself fit to command us? On what authority? The sacrifices of those who fell seem to be in vain if we do not bring justice to those orcs."
"The king's heart is one of compassion, Caspian. Perhaps he seeks to show benevolence by sparing the orcs. Remember, his own forces make up a significant portion of the alliance."
"But they are weakened now," Caspian countered, his words tense with resolve. "In due time, these refugees would strengthen our ranks more than that distant kingdom ever could. We should not blindly follow the whims of an aging monarch…" He paused, his thoughts gathering. "Perhaps you are right. With the alliance still standing, our words will hold no power besides entertaining that man's conviction. Nonetheless, our families must stand to gain the most from this situation."
Daelin's reply held a mixture of understanding and reluctant agreement. "Very well, I will turn a blind eye to your plans," he conceded. "The orcs have yet to face the consequences for the pain they inflicted upon our family."
As they arrived at the imposing keep, its resplendence struck a chord within Thorwin. Although smaller in scale than the grandeur of Lordaeron Palace, it radiated an air of strength and authority that was undeniable. Its architecture spoke of noble lineage and storied history, an embodiment of the Stormsong family's legacy. The stone walls seemed to be imbued with secrets of past and current triumphs and challenges overcome, lending a weight to the very air surrounding them. As they passed through its gates, Thorwin couldn't help but be reminded of the times he had walked the halls of Lordaeron alongside his grandfather, the late Anduin Lothar.
Above the keep's towers, the skies came alive with the majestic sight of dwarves on patrol, riding atop their gryphons. A symphony of coordinated flight and precise throws of hammers painted the skies in a display of disciplined prowess. It was a breathtaking sight that invoked a sense of awe and admiration from those below, an ode to the unity between these fierce creatures of the earth and the noble Stormsong family.
Daelin's voice cut through the air, his admiration clear. "A marvelous show of strength, Caspian."
Caspian's response held a touch of pride, his words reflecting the depth of his emotions. "It wouldn't have been possible if my son hadn't cultivated a friendship with their high thane's cousin," he explained, the swell of paternal pride evident in his voice. "Thorwin," he called, motioning for his son to join them.
Thorwin's steps quickened as he and Jaina approached his father and Daelin, "Yes, father?"
Caspian's eyes held a mixture of approval and affection as his gaze shifted between Jaina and Thorwin. He gestured towards the dwarves in the sky. "You've truly forged a bond with our dwarven allies. This aerial display is a testament of their goodwill."
"It's an honor, father. Falstad has been a remarkable friend, and has taught me throughout our journey," he answered.
"Anduin's spirit lives on through you," Daelin's voice carried a gentle note, a touch of nostalgia threading his words. He placed his hand on Thorwin's shoulder, a gesture that held both comfort and shared memories. "He was known for his ability to form deep connections with those he encountered. As for now, I entrust my Jaina to your care. Your father and I must attend a meeting with the leaders of the alliance."
"Understood, sir."
Thorwin and Jaina bid their parents farewell with a mixture of emotions, watching as their figures retreated towards the entrance of the grand keep. A contingent of guards accompanied their parents, splitting into two groups - one following Caspian and Daelin, the other remaining behind to ensure the safety of the young duo. Once again, the two friends found themselves in each other's company, the bustling courtyard filled with a sense of freedom that only childhood could bring.
Jaina's hand slipped into Thorwin's, her fingers entwining with his as she flashed him an infectious smile. With a sudden burst of energy, she tugged him along, her laughter echoing through the air like a sweet melody. "Did you know that Lady Adriana has cultivated the most enchanting garden?" Jaina's voice was animated, her excitement palpable. "The flowers are said to be a testament to her grace and love for you. Come, let's explore!"
He wasn't aware of such matters; the confines of his room and the training yard became his solace after the torrent of death around him. Oh, he did see his mother walking towards the gardens, but he had no strength to come with her at that time. As they hurried away, the guards observed the scene with a mix of exhaustion and amusement, their polished armors glinting in the sunlight. Jaina's carefree laughter seemed to infuse the atmosphere with a renewed vitality, momentarily shifting the focus from the sadness that overtook the city to the innocence of youth.
"Look, Thorwin, it's you!"
Thorwin and Jaina came upon a poignant display - a statue that captured a moment frozen in time. Thorwin's breath hitched as he gazed upon the stone representation of himself as a child, standing courageously before his mother, Adriana. The statue portrayed a younger version of him, his stance resolute, holding a sword aloft with a determination that belied his age. The intricacies of the sculpture were stunning, from the intricate details of his mother's clothes to the fierce determination etched on her face. He couldn't help but wonder if his mother had spent moments here, perhaps standing where he stood now, reflecting on the past.
Curiosity radiated from Jaina's voice as she nudged Thorwin gently. "Why are you holding a sword in front of Lady Adrianna?" Her question was innocent, yet it carried a weight that tugged at Thorwin's emotions.
"It was back in Stormwind, Jaina," Thorwin answered, his voice tinged with a mixture of nostalgia and sorrow. His eyes remained locked on the statue, as if seeking solace in the memories it held. "We were in the heart of the chaos, surrounded by the relentless onslaught of orcs. Flames devoured the city, and we sought refuge in a small shop, believing it would shield us from the horrors outside. But we were wrong."
Stepping closer to the statue, his fingertips grazed the stone as if tracing the outlines of his past. "An orc managed to breach through the guards, and in the face of danger, my mother stood her ground. They clashed, the clash of steel against steel, a fierce battle for survival. The orc was overpowering, and my mother, wounded but resolute, called out to us, urging us to escape. And just as that monstrous creature raised its weapon for a lethal strike... I struck it down."
To protect my beloved mother.
Even as his grandfather and Derek had left this world, there was still those who remains, who still loves him. They are the ones he can and will protect, but he needed strength. Within his contemplation, arrived Jaina's embrace, her arms wrapping around him in a comforting gesture. Despite her petite stature, there was a strength in her hug that spoke of unwavering support. In that moment, Thorwin couldn't help but notice how she seemed smaller, almost as if he had grown taller in the wake of the challenges he had faced. "I've talked with Derek before leaving Lordaeron Palace, he made a promise to us, Jaina, —"
"—To sail the seas together," they spoke in unison, their voices carrying the weight of their shared sorrow and determination. As their gazes locked, tears glistened in their eyes, yet their smiles shone through.
"Derek wrote me a letter," Jaina's voice quivered slightly as she spoke, her words laden with both fondness and grief. "He wanted to see me grow into an outstanding mage, to give him a reason to brag about me with his peers for years to come. I miss my dear brother... Thorwin, promise me that we'll still sail together." The vulnerability in her voice reached deep into Thorwin's heart, igniting a fire of determination within him.
"I promise, Jaina," he replied, his voice steady and resolute. With a gentle and comforting smile, he broke away from their embrace and extended his palm upwards. In a language that echoed with ancient power, Thorwin chanted an arcane incantation unfamiliar to Jaina. She watched in awe as a scene materialized from the very essence of his magic, a ship crafted of shimmering arcane light, sailing gracefully across an illusory sea.
The illusion zoomed in, revealing the figures of Derek, Jaina, and Thorwin on the deck of the ship. Their faces were illuminated with happiness, their eyes fixed on the distant horizon. As the arcane-created scene played out, a soft and melodic child's voice joined the air, tenderly carrying a song that seemed to bridge the gap between the present and the past. Thorwin turned to Jaina. The reflection of his eyes beheld her. She was beautiful.
"Ahoy, ahoy, sailors bold and free,
Ahoy, the tides we trek.
Through his memory, we will sail the seas,
For as long as he lives."
You will live on forever in our hearts, Derek.
Amidst the soft glow of the arcane illusion and the haunting melody of their song, a voice as wise and comforting as a summer breeze intruded gently upon their private moment. "That was very beautiful, my young friends," Alonsus' voice resonated, his presence a soothing balm to their hearts. The two turned, surprised by his presence, and saw the Archbishop standing not far behind them. His smile held the kind of warmth that only a spiritual guide could provide, and he approached them with a gentle grace. "It seems Khadgar has taught you well," he mused softly, acknowledging their magical display. "I apologize for disrupting such a harmonious scene, but I wish to speak with you, Thorwin."
Thorwin's response was immediate, a respectful acknowledgment of the Archbishop's presence. "Of course, Father Alonsus." He gently gestured to Jaina that the two of them needed privacy, she nodded and left towards the flowers.
"Anduin, before embarking on that fateful battle, left behind a letter addressed to you," he began, his voice a gentle current in the air. "However, it is essential to understand that Turalyon, too, bore knowledge of your anger towards him. He carried the burden of that awareness, a heavy burden of shame."
Thorwin's fists clenched involuntarily, the memory of his anger and pain surging back like a tempest. "He spared the orc who took my grandfather from us," he retorted, a storm brewing in his voice.
Faol's gaze remained unwavering, his empathy unwavering. "All living beings, young lord, have the right to seek redemption, to find their way back from darkness."
A bitter edge laced Thorwin's reply, his resolve unyielding. "Not all beings, Father Alonsus," he countered, his tone an armor against vulnerability. "There are those whose actions are beyond forgiveness."
Faol's serenity met Thorwin's defiance, the Archbishop's wisdom standing as a beacon of truth. "Even those orcs, however misguided their cause may be, fight for what they believe is right. Just as we do."
Thorwin's eyes flashed with a fire that held both determination and sorrow. "And if their 'belief' involves spilling innocent blood?" he challenged, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.
Faol's reply was unwavering, his conviction a steady flame in the face of uncertainty. "Then it becomes our duty to show them the way back to the light. In moments of darkness, we must strive to be a guiding light, a beacon of hope that can illuminate even the most shadowed hearts. Only then can we hope to change their course, to find redemption for them."
Thorwin's voice echoed with a mix of determination and anguish, his words a reflection of the turmoil within him. "But what if sparing them leads to the deaths of countless innocent lives again? What if they justify their actions with twisted beliefs, and we are left to witness the devastation they wreak once more?"
Faol's reply came measured and thoughtful, his gaze unwavering. "Retaliation in kind may lead us down a dark path, my young friend. If we become like them, if we lose our moral compass in the face of hatred, then what sets us apart?"
Thorwin's retort was swift, the edges of his frustration sharpening his words. "Then so be it. If our choice lies between the lives of those who only seek destruction and our own survival, I will choose us."
Faol's eyes held both compassion and concern, his response carefully chosen. "Thorwin, I sense a deep well of anger within you, a hatred that could consume you if left unchecked."
Thorwin's gaze held firm, his resolve unwavering. "I won't deny it, Father Alonsus. There's a thirst for justice. For vengeance."
Faol's voice held a weight of wisdom born from experience. "But hate, my child, can be transformed into something more powerful, more noble. In the heart of darkness, a flame of determination can be kindled. I sense it within you, a potential for greatness."
Thorwin's brow furrowed, his anger mingling with skepticism. "What do you mean?"
Faol's gaze bore into Thorwin's, unwavering and sincere. "The Light has illuminated something in you, Thorwin. A potential to rise above the hatred and channel your emotions into something that can make a difference, not just in your life, but in the world."
Thorwin's voice held a touch of uncertainty, Faol's words reminded him of the being residing inside him, the being that seemed to still be in slumber. "And what is that?"
Faol's smile was gentle, his words a whisper carried on the wind. "The path of the Light. The ways of compassion, empathy, and forgiveness. If you allow it, the Light can guide you to become a force for good, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness."
Thorwin's heart wrestled with conflicting emotions, his anger warring with the seed of possibility Faol was planting. "You believe I can be that?"
Faol's eyes shone with a conviction that seemed to echo from within the depths of his very being. "The Light sees potential in all beings, my child. It sees a flame that can be nurtured into a blaze of righteousness. And I see it in you too."
Thorwin's silence spoke of the turmoil within him, his uncertainty and struggle evident in the depths of his eyes.
Faol extended a hand, his offer laced with earnestness. "I offer to be your guide on this journey, Thorwin. To teach you the ways of the Light, to help you channel your emotions into a force for good."
Thorwin's gaze met Faol's, a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions in his eyes. He opened his mouth, but words remained elusive, trapped within the internal conflict that raged within him.
Faol's hand gently pressed a letter into Thorwin's palm, a message from the past, a beacon of hope for the future. "Take your time, Thorwin. Read Anduin's words, and when you are ready, know that I will be here. Whenever you choose, know that the Light's path is one of healing, of redemption, and of strength born from compassion."
Thorwin's grip on the letter tightened as he stared at the parchment, the words inked upon it now a reflection of the swirling emotions within him. He glanced up, meeting Faol's gaze, a tempest of fear and doubt churning in his eyes, intermingled with something else—anger. The anger, like an ember, caught the currents of his emotions and ignited into a blaze, the flames of his frustration threatening to consume his words. "Will my grandfather return, if I were to be healed?" His question burst forth, each word laced with a raw intensity that seemed to pierce the very air around them. The fire in his eyes dared anyone to challenge the storm of emotions he was grappling with.
Faol's expression registered a momentary surprise, but he swiftly recomposed himself, his own gaze a steady anchor to Thorwin's tumultuous one. Yet, it was clear that the young boy's anger had ignited something within the Archbishop as well, a shared emotion bridging the gap between them.
"He wouldn't! The orcs nor anyone else could give him back. You speak of compassion and forgiveness, but how can I forgive those orcs!" Thorwin's voice rose, echoing through the gardens like a lamentation of grief and fury, the very landscape seeming to bear witness to his agony. "I was there, Father Alonsus, I was there when Stormwind was destroyed," he continued, his words carrying the weight of memory, of witnessing unspeakable horrors firsthand. "I saw how the orcs slaughtered each citizen, how they celebrated with the bodies. How their eyes lacked the compassion you speak of. Now, this letter stands as the only way I could hear from my Grandfather, how dare you speak of forgiveness."
The raw pain in Thorwin's voice seemed to carve itself into the air, the weight of his experiences pulling every word into the gravity of his emotions. His eyes, reddened from grief, anger, and the overwhelming sense of powerlessness, bore into Faol's, seeking an answer that would quell the storm raging within him.
Alonsus Faol remained a steadfast presence in the midst of Thorwin's turmoil, his own voice steady, a counterpoint to the boy's tempestuous outburst. "Anduin will be remembered here," Faol said, his hand gently tapping the boy's chest, over his heart. "The wrongs of the past will not be undone by another, but acceptance and forgiveness can prevent such past from recurring in the future."
Thorwin's gaze held both a fire of defiance and a yearning for understanding. His words now came softer, laden with a mix of desperation and vulnerability. "How can forgiveness change anything? How can it bring back those we've lost?"
Faol's response was measured, his eyes conveying a depth of wisdom that spoke of a lifetime of contemplation. "Forgiveness does not erase the past, nor does it diminish the pain of loss. But it has the power to reshape the future. It releases the grip of hatred, making room for healing and the potential to create a world where the mistakes of the past are not repeated."
Thorwin's shoulders sagged as he leaned against the statue, his fingers tracing the edges of the letter as if seeking solace from the tangible connection to his grandfather's words. His voice was softer now, laced with the melancholy of understanding. "I am just a child, Father Alonsus. How can I shoulder such a burden?"
He couldn't help but let his thoughts drift back to the days when his grandfather, Anduin Lothar, and his friends had lovingly admonished him to remember that he didn't have to carry the universe's burdens alone. Their advice was born out of experience, their own lives' lessons etched into the lines of their faces and the tales they told. They had seen the toll that responsibility and leadership could exact, and they wished for him to retain his youthful innocence amidst the chaos. How ironic, he mused.
Faol's expression softened, his hand coming to rest on Thorwin's shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. "None of us are born with the answers, Thorwin. But you possess a spirit that seeks justice, a heart that feels deeply… I shall take my leave today, Thorwin, you are always welcome to learn."
From the broad expanse of his shoulders, Thorwin could feel the gentle weight of Alonsus Faol's hand descending to rest atop his head. It was a gesture both paternal and comforting, a silent reassurance in the form of touch. The aged archbishop's fingers moved with a tenderness that conveyed a deep understanding of the emotional tempest within Thorwin's heart. He turned and left, with Thorwin staring at him.
Jaina returned right after, but the questions in her mind remained unspoken, hanging in the air like a delicate thread, yet neither of them felt the need to tug on it further. Instead, they resumed their leisurely stroll through the serene garden, the soft rustling of leaves and the distant murmur of fountains providing a gentle backdrop to their thoughts. As the sun dipped below the horizon, surrendering its golden glow to the moon, the atmosphere shifted. The garden, bathed in the gentle silver light, seemed to don a new veil of tranquility. Dinner followed, an occasion where leaders of the alliance gathered. Thorwin found himself wondering about the absence of figures like Varian and the Menethil children, a question he filed away for a later time.
The evening drew its curtains, and with a heartfelt goodnight to Jaina, Thorwin retreated to his chambers. The flickering candlelight cast elongated shadows on the walls, a dance of warmth in the otherwise dim room. With a mixture of anticipation and reverence, he seated himself at the study table, the parchment containing his grandfather's words laid out before him.
With a steady hand, he unfolded the parchment, the soft rustling sound like a whispered promise. The words that lay before him were more than ink on paper; they were a connection to the past, a bridge between generations. His eyes scanned the lines meticulously, each curve of the script etching itself into his memory.
My dearest Thorwin,
As I stand on the brink of a battle that holds the promise of peril, my thoughts turn to you, the light of our lineage, the embodiment of our family's honor. The world before us is shrouded in uncertainty, and yet, it is your presence that fuels my resolve.
Through the annals of time, the Lothar name has been synonymous with courage, integrity, and unyielding determination. These traits, passed down through generations, now reside in you. I see in you the continuation of our legacy, a torchbearer of our values, to be a beacon of hope in troubled times.
The path ahead may be fraught with challenges and trials that test the limits of your strength, but I have faith in your heart, noble and steadfast. Your very existence is a testament to the bonds that tie us, a bond that transcends distance, circumstance, and even the battlefield.
My valorous grandson, as you stride forward into your destiny, remember that my spirit is forever entwined with yours. Though this battle may carry me to distant realms, my watchful gaze shall remain upon you. No matter what fate bestows upon us, the pride I feel for you burns as brightly as a thousand suns.
Remember, that in the face of adversity, do not let hatred cloud your judgment, for it is the clarity of mind and the strength of heart that truly define a warrior. As the years will go on and your own journey unfolds, may you find strength in the teachings of your parents, mentors, and friends, and find solace in the unbreakable connection you will share with them.
Know that within the depths of my heart, I shall forever be proud of you, and of the man you will become. I will always love you, my grandson.
With the fondest of blessings and the mightiest of hopes,
Anduin Lothar
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
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eliot_green I am very thankful for all of your support! The next update may take two days or next week, since I am making a storyline that will somehow connect to the lore.
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