User:Raiev

 Introduction 

   My name is Siran. The following is the recount of my father’s life. I’m writing this in his journal, but I had to add these first few pages myself. For some reason, there were two pages missing when I found it.

   After my father’s death – and no, it wasn’t suicide you fel spewing liars – there were only a few items recovered. Three, actually – and he left them to me so I could tell his story.

   The first is a simple prosthetic. Well, that’s what I thought at first.

   Mum says that she’d had the eye made for him by the Mages of Dalaran with a touch of her own tinkering. I thought it was just an eye, but it was always like Dad to have an ace up his sleeve.

  Funny that I mention an ace since the second item is a Deck of Cards. As with everything, nothing is simply what it seems. These cards aren’t playing cards – my father was a Rogue but he was no hustler or gambler.

  These powerful cards – seventy eight in total – each carry a piece of his eternal soul.

  Maybe I’m romanticizing, but I am my father’s son, after-all.

  Within each card is a lesson or a memory key to each card’s meaning. Since he carried them with him at all times – in all his lives and every world he’s visited – they seem to carry him now as he did them.

  Each face is illustrated with detail and care to a degree that could only mean one thing – they were not drawn by my father.

  I’ll never really know who’s soul was first found, or perhaps bound, by the deck, but maybe it doesn’t matter. My father’s essence clings to every edge now, protecting the sensitive energy within. The physical and metaphysical worlds lie overlapped in our plane of existence, and the energy of the soul can be as powerful as a tumbling boulder. Being Eleven, our propensity toward Divination makes it even easier for us to manipulate our own energies, letting us create such powerful talismans of our lives.

  We’ve all done it – left a relic or two behind to tell our story. Sometimes it’s something simple like a newspaper behind a wall, or signing your name on a post for all to see but none to really know. Thankfully, my people have much more profitable ways of leaving themselves behind.

   The final item he left to me is actually a set. My father’s twin fel-blade swords. These are now resting crossed on my back and over my shoulders, each handle within my reach. He had left me instructions with them; “When the tide changes from Grey to Black, wear my blades and find your Wraiths.”

  I know you’re wondering why I haven’t mentioned this journal – but that’s because it wasn’t left to me.

  I stole it from Mum when she finally finished last night’s bottle. She’s drank whiskey straight through every day since he died.

                            That was three weeks ago.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:'TimesNewRoman';font-size:medium;line-height:normal;">  What do you expect though, right? She lost more than a husband. She lost a partner – they had been a team for the last three decades and had shed more blood together than tears. She lost a friend – a true friend that pressed every physical and mental boundary to test, contest, and teach her. She’ll bounce back, though – she’s even started painting her nails again.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:'TimesNewRoman';font-size:medium;line-height:normal;">  None of that matters, but it does matter. Before we begin, I need to stress a few things to you.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:'TimesNewRoman';font-size:medium;line-height:normal;">  My father would have wanted you to know the following;

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:'TimesNewRoman';font-size:medium;line-height:normal;">                    See the unseen and hear what is not being said.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:'TimesNewRoman';font-size:medium;line-height:normal;">                    The Darkest of Eves bring the brightest Dawn.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:'TimesNewRoman';font-size:medium;line-height:normal;">                    Take what you want and leave the rest.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:'TimesNewRoman';font-size:medium;line-height:normal;">                    And finally, that none of this was for him.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:'TimesNewRoman';font-size:medium;line-height:normal;">  This is his story but it is not his story alone. This is the tale of a boy who died many times but could never seem to stay dead. Despite his best efforts, life continued to bind him to this world. This is the account of a man who lived many lives but could never seem to avoid the dead. Despite his best efforts to live between many planes of existence, he was bound to this world, but finally became free of his body.

<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-family:'TimesNewRoman';font-size:medium;line-height:normal;"> <p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;">                                                     This is the Saga of Raiev Darkfyre. <p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;">                       The Seeker, Sage, and former Watcher of the Wraith Heart Exiles.