The burden of a Bladesinger

[goldenhearts]

Long ago I fought in many skirmishes, fought in many battles. And those days I was very young. The horrors of what I saw and faced still plague me to this day, but I do not regret many of my actions. This story, is simply about why I ceased the path of the Bladesinger for so long, and this story is for me to look upon knowing that I could not change the outcome. I chose to carry a burden, a burden that would teach me to understand that failure, is just as important as success. And in this case, that burden was my shield I carried, to show me that who I am can be changed by some actions in the past. No matter how I try to change things for the best for others, I meet resistance. If only many knew the loss that one can suffer from the terrible machine of war.

So, where do I start?

I guess at the beginning....

Long ago, I was but a simple student to a great master of the way of the Bladesinger, an art that takes many years to learn, and something that can never truly be mastered. I was chosen to learn from him, by him. And my training was not in a safe haven, it was on the fringes of one of the greatest skirmishes of the time. I could say a war, but I'm really unsure what it was, as I was still unclear of what I was doing at the time. Before he picked me, I was a simple bard. I spent my time singing songs, telling tales and entertaining those that wished to hear these things. A very simple but safe life, and now I look back thinking upon it. What if I never said yes to my teacher, what if I said no?

That would be another story and one that many cannot learn from, so on to this tale of how I became who I am. And how I see things in ways others dare not to see them.

As I mentioned I was to be taught by a Bladesinger, a master in his own right of the art of the sword and song. Instead of learning in a safe haven, he decided to take me into the places where I could learn in the true sense. Battle, was his training ground of choice, and this in itself stirred many things within me. I was introduced to a small tactics unit, our task was simple. We were to stage raids upon the bordering forces near the city of Song, Zhents were our target. And other targets that were opportune at the time, including Orcs, Dhaerow and other beings that could cause issues in the lands we were in. I'll not try and bedazzle people by claiming the lands were wondrous and should be seen because of so many reasons. Instead, I'll forgo this small exchange and simply tell this tale.

The unit consisted of four archers, two wizards, a cleric of the Winged mother a Dwarven fighter, my teacher and I. I would like to share these peoples names with you, but I feel that would only dishonour their memory, because people need to remember them for who they are, and not the things that they did. Suffice to say, we did many horrid things in the name of peace, and this warped my view on what is good and what is evil. I'd rather not make excuses and say it was all good, as it wasn't....ahh I digress.
Back to the tale.

We worked hard in defending the lands and staging raids upon the Zhents like I said, destroying patrols, supply wagons and much more. To slow their progress as much as possible, making them blind in some places and forcing the main force to succumb to starvation and supply shortages. Really a valid tactic in a time of "War" and all went well for a several years or so, I tend to lose track of time now and again. Course, when you stir from reverie and fight, eat then reverie it becomes a endless cycle. I learned what I could in that time, being taught the way of the Bladesinger. Something I truly will never regret putting many of my years into. In turn, I entertained the group we worked with. And this kept moral high for when it was really needed.

Needless to say, time passed and we did our job well. In this time, I became close the cleric, who spoke of the Winged mother fondly. And I eventually became a follower of the lady myself.

But again, that is another story for a later time.

We became bold a little to bold, our actions drew the wrath of our foes, and they eventually sent out larger patrols to hunt us down. We managed to avoid them, and even destroy a few, but our luck was running low in the days to come. Our small unit was finally cornered, with nowhere to fall back to, and at the end of our supplies we had no choice but to make a stand. We fought a fierce battle, but their forces were overwhelming. And I will not colour this story and say we won, or killed hundreds of them, as war is not like that. Our entire group was slain, other than myself, my teacher, the cleric and the Dwarven fighter.....

*Her writing pauses for a long time, the ink displays how time has passed before she continues on*

We were captured and taken to the cells, where they would torture us and find any information of other raiding parties in the area. I'm not wanting to go into to much detail, as this was a frightening experience to even dare to quill to parchment, suffice to say. They did many horrid things to my two friends, the Dwarven fighter and the cleric, sadly they had both perished in the torture chambers. I knew my turn would come soon, and so did my teacher. I looked back to my life, and realized I had done nothing great, nothing to let others think of me. I just lived.....

It was the second week we were held captive, I was not entirely sure why they had kept us alive so long. But it is hard to tell the reasons of the enemies. My teacher though, had made a plan for escape, and did not share the entire idea with me. Yet, I knew something was a miss, as he had a tell...like a card player. He was holding something back, but I just let it go as I was to tired and hungry to even question him.

The next day dawned, and usually a tray of slop was thrown in our cell. The guard that did so was a thin man, probably the type that was to poorly trained to put in the thick of battle. My teacher, who had managed to free one hand from his shackles, managed to overpower the poor sod and promptly snapped his neck. He then freed the both of us with the keys the guard had and took the sword the guard had with him. With the last of his magical strength he hid me from sight and passed a small book that he managed to hide. I remember the words he spoke to me as clear as day, and something I will never forget.

"Honour those who dwell with the Aerdrie and cherish the birds dancing on her tresses Change is beautiful and chaos births new life." Was the last words he said to me as he told me to flee.

I ran....like a coward, I don't know why...I should have stayed to help him escape to. But, I was to frightened, to scared, and feared for my own life...I heard the shouts behind me, fading into the darkness as sword crossed sword. The screams of those falling, the shouts of many others...then silence......I fled, and left my teacher to die. Days had passed, I had managed to gain enough distance from the cells, from my friends who I failed to protect. I was lost, not in the way of knowing where to go, just lost in my own mind.

That is when I made the choice, I can be who I was or become something new. I've told part of this tale to some, and I don't think they really understood what I was trying to say. I parted ways with myself, I no longer wanted to be the one that stood by and let others die, nor let them fall into a fate because of stupid pride. Instead, I sought to be something greater, a protector to those that needed one. My old self took the left path, and I waved farewell to her, the innocent bard, the student, the failure. And I took the right path, the protector, the teacher and the one that could be relied on.

I took an oath that day, I would carry a shield as my burden, something that would remind me not to fail again. This shield I would carry for a hundred and fifty years. I still carry the book that was given to me, the book I learn from daily, perhaps one day I can pass this on to my own student, if I so pick one to learn the way of the Bladesinger.

There is more to my story, but this stirs so much emotion in me, I cannot put quill to parchment. Perhaps, when I think it is best to share again, I will......

*To be continued*

[goldenhearts]

As I mentioned I wanted to tell more of may tale. I'm pretty sure some will see me as mad, or perhaps they will see a greater depth in the story I do tell. It really matters not, as this is for my own eyes for now. And perhaps one day I will let someone read about the things I have seen and done.

My last entry left off me taking the right path, and this is where my own story changes in a dramatic way. I wandered far, simply avoiding others, I learned a few tricks in my time at the front. Mostly it was all tricks not to be seen, and to hide where I had been. I still feared that I was being followed by my captors. But, I suspected they didn't care for a random Elf who got away. Much time had passed, I spent this time reflecting on what to do. I managed to gather up some equipment to help me on the way, it's amazing what people leave laying around in the open.

My first thought was to return home, but I could not bare to see those that I loved and cared for, knowing that I had left those I wished to protect behind. So, I wandered in a aimless way, visiting small taverns along the road to the High Forest. I kept to myself, and didn't even make a fuss if my food was cold, or my drink was bitter. I just didn't care.

I made a oath and really did not know how to go about it, but. Like all things, I tend to think it will become clear at the most strangest moment. I traveled far and wide, shunning other people, taking the path alone. Surviving on what I could find, and what I could steal to survive, not a grand tale I know. But it all starts somewhere. Eventually I came to the Lost Peaks, somewhere not many travel to or so I hear. Being a little lost myself I just traveled up the mountains. I had heard about the Fey that live here, and the magical pools that could send people to a random place. It really didn't matter, I never really cared about a great deal at the moment.

So, I climbed higher and higher. Following a twisted path of rock, with layers of untrodden snow under foot. The wind blew like a freezing spear, cutting through my very clothing. My bones ached from the cold feeling that gripped my very spirit, a heavy sigh parted my lips as I trod heavily along the path. So tired I was, so cold, so hungry.....time passed and finally I collapsed. Blinking in the freezing winds and the falling snow, I could see the green canopy of the forest below. My cold breath passing out a cold steam in the air. Slowing more and more as my time was closing. Many thoughts lingered, on how I failed again...oh why am I so stupid?

I shut my eyes for perhaps a moment, feeling the colds icy grip closing in. And then, I heard something...I blinked and managed to lean forwards from the rock I was leaning upon. A flapping sound, the beating of wings. I shrugged, and tried to see. I saw a great Eagle in the distance, something that made me smile. Even in the bitter cold. Then....I saw a figure, out in the sky, looming closer. Wings spread out far and wide, the flapping growing closer and closer till the figure was a person. She landed near me, and didn't say much. Simply she looked for a long while, then covered me in furs and helped me up.

Was I dreaming?

Was this the way to Arvandor?

I fell into a sleepless sleep, to finally awaken near a warm fire. The sound of the crackling of the flames stirred me I think. I opened my eyes to see the winged figure sitting and staring at me in silence. She didn't say anything, and just showed me there was food and water, then she jumped off the ledge and flew away. Again time passed, I sat there for some days looking into the sky, thinking of what I saw. Who I saw....I managed to look around the area, and found a old shrine. It wasn't in bad repair, perhaps the winged woman looked after it, who knows. I took time to recover, perhaps a week or two passed, then the winged woman returned. This time she did speak, and those words are mine alone. And I dare not to place on parchment. We spoke at great length, she even sang for me. I wonderful thing to hear, I have to say. As I shared my time with the Avariel, a legend to some. And one I had met, she explained she came here to care for the shrine. As I was lucky she found me at the time. As she would not have returned for another cycle.

Then she explained the shrine itself belonged to the Winged Mother, Aerdrie Faenya. Perhaps it was a guiding wind that drew me here, I don't really know. But, this is where I found my faith. I looked upon the Avariel with childlike eyes, seeing a proud beautiful race that had fallen into decline. We shared a good while together till she had to leave, she left me some more supplies then bade me farewell. Never to see her again, perhaps it was for the best though. As I probably would not have left the shrine in the end.

I took my time before making ready to leave, and offered my aid to Aerdrie Faenya in anyway she would need it. Here, I found the faith I follow, and the words my teacher said seemed to linger in my mind. That night, I had a restless reverie, I saw things that disturbed me, and things that could come to pass. I stirred in the warm sunny morning, after the heavy snow storm had passed. Then prayed at the shrine to offer my allegiance to the lady, I swore that I would find a way for the Avariel to be numerous again. And this is a task I'll not fail, perhaps a near impossible task. But one that must be done. I gathered up my supplies and things, then headed back down the mountain.

Eventually I came across a merchant caravan and joined up with them to travel to the next town. The story from here on in is nothing to grand. I still hid what I was, which is a Bladesinger, and carried the shield as my burden. I traveled from town to city to village, following rumours of the Avariel. Seeking stories of them, seeking sightings. I worked many jobs, menial ones to make ends meet. But I was going to keep my promise the best I could. Eventually I came to Cormyr, a story I heard led me here, the Avariel were seen in these parts.

And so my story in these lands continue on, seeking to keep the promise I made the best I could. But now, time has passed, and the burden I carried can be shed. Now I can be who I am meant to be, and be the Bladesinger I was trained to be. Perhaps I'll complete my quest, or perhaps I will never do anything. Only time will tell, and I hope what I do is enough to save others from becoming a myth in some legend.

Keth-dho'Llae, Bladesinger and devote follower of Aerdrie Faenya.