“I don’t see why you need to agree to anything,” said Dirk. He turned to Whill. “Why are they even here? They do not ask us how to train and lead their magic users, nor do the elves for that matter. So why should they have a say at all?”
“This decision will affect all of us,” said Whill.
“Well, if you will not train and lead the newly gifted humans, then I suggest it be left to the rulers of the land from which they hail. I am sure that the other human kings of Agora will agree with me. As far as I am concerned, they are a natural resource of their native lands, and they should be treated as such.”
“There he goes,” said Roakore. “His true colors be comin’ through now.”
“What is your mind, Zerafin?” Whill asked.
“The power of the humans is to absorb the magic of others. Therefore, I believe that we have a right to help train and to oversee their development. I also agree with Dirk to an extent. The blessed humans belong to the countries from which they hail. If the human leaders agree, and the dwarf kings agree, then I believe that we can come to an agreement.”
“Well then?” Whill asked the dwarves.
Du’Krell and Helzendar glanced at Roakore, and the dwarf king tossed back a drink as he pondered the decision. “I said before that only Whill be fit to lead these new magical humans. But I understand his reasons for not doin’ so. Therefore, we will honor his decision and that o’ this council.”
“Very well,” said Whill. “The blessed humans will be overseen by the leaders of their kingdoms, and both the elves and dwarves will have a part in grooming them.”
Chapter 38
“Do you think that I did the right thing?” Whill asked Lyrian Vosk as he sat with the elf on the banks of the small pond.
“That depends on the motivations behind your decision not to train the humans,” said the elf.
Whill thought about that for a moment before answering, “My motivation was peace.”
“Who’s peace?”
“My own,” said Whill, realizing what a selfish answer it was.
Lyrian nodded and smiled at Whill. “You believe that you have done enough, and perhaps you have. But will you be able to live a life of peace? Are you sure that the path of the Morenka is the right one for you?”
“You know,” said Whill with a small laugh. “Sometimes you confuse the hell out of me. I thought that you of all people would approve of my decision.”
“I neither approve nor disapprove,” said Lyrian. “I just wonder if fate will allow you the peace that you seek.”
“Fate? I did not know that you believed in such a thing.”
“I believe that there is such a thing as perceived fate. You could have stopped fighting long ago, yet you believed that it was your destiny.”
“And if I had, the gods would have destroyed our world,” said Whill.
“Indeed,” said Lyrian. “And when another threat rises, what will you do then?”
“I will let others deal with it,” said Whill.
“I think that we both know that is not who you are,” said Lyrian.
“What are you playing at?” Whill asked as he rose from his meditative position. “You preach of the Morenka way being the only way that the world will truly know peace, yet you try to dissuade me from walking the path.”
“I am not trying to dissuade you. I am simply informing you that this will not be an easy path for you to walk, just as it is not an easy path for any of those who choose it. We know that peace is the answer, yet the world is violent. In the future, you will be faced with hard choices.”
“I’ve been faced with hard decisions all my life,” said Whill.
“Yes, but now you have children,” said Lyrian. “What if they are threatened? What if they are attacked? What will you do? Forgive those who threaten them? Forgive those who attack them and not seek revenge?”
Whill didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Just the mere idea of his children being in danger made his heart race and the power within him churn like a tempest.
“You should take some time to decide what you think is truly best.” Lyrian put a hand on Whill’s shoulder and smiled kindly. “As you have already stated, your decision to seek peace has been made for selfish reasons, and I do not want you to pursue this path with any delusions.”
“You know, Lyrian, sometimes you’re a real pain in the arse, as my friend Roakore would say.”
The elf laughed at that and nodded.
“My wife used to say the same thing.”
Whill left the home of the Morenka master with a lot to think about, but to his surprise, Lunara was waiting for him on the forest path. She stood beneath a large elm tree, staring at the shadows on the forest floor.
“Lunara?” Whill said, hoping not to alarm her, for she seemed to be in deep contemplation.
She looked up at him, and it took a moment for her face to brighten with recognition.
“Oh, hello Whill,” she said with a small smile.
“Is everything alright?” he asked as he approached.
“Yes, I think so.”
“You look ashen,” said Whill as he took one of her hands in his. “What is it?”
“I was…I was just trying to remember.” Her eyes drifted to the heavens and locked on the only visible star.
“Remember what?”
“The power of the mantle,” she said as she glanced down at her hands. “It consumed me… It showed me things, terrible things.”
“I am so sorry, Lunara. I wish I could have—”
“Do not be sorry. It was my choice, and I do not regret it. For I learned so much during my time as the bearer, about life…and death. I feel as though I have been reborn, but I do not feel like my old self. I do not feel like the Lunara that you once knew.”
“I know what you mean,” said Whill, forcing a smile. “The man I was but a year ago is a stranger to me now. But I think that is the way of life, the way of existence. We are always changing, ever evolving. Fret not, you are still the Lunara that I know and love.”
“Love?” she said, and she seemed to become more herself for a fleeting moment. That moment passed when she saw the apologetic look on Whill’s face. “Ah, yes, I remember now. You love me as you would love a sister, or a friend.”
“It is all I can give you,” Whill said solemnly.
“For now,” she whispered as she lovingly stroked his face. Whill thought that he saw a quick flash of emerald green in her eyes, and then she suddenly kissed him on the lips.
Before he could react, she had pulled away from him and started down the forest path. He watched her go, and his heart ached as she sang to the moon.
Whill took his time getting home, for he was haunted by Lunara’s words. I do not feel like the Lunara that you once knew. He understood how she felt all too well. The man that he had been only a few years ago was gone.
When once his eyes had sparkled at the mere thought of glory and battle, now they squinted tiredly. When once he sought power, now he sought only peace. He was not yet even a quarter-century old, but he felt like he had lived many lives.
Whill knew that he had lost something along the way, and no matter the power that he possessed, no matter the knowledge that he gained, he would never get back his innocence.
He had sought to reclaim his father’s throne and he had become a god. Now, what he wanted above all else, was to live the life of a simple man. Whill did not wish to rule. He did not strive to conquer. He wanted only his family and friends, good food, good drink, and many laughs to come. He wanted uneventful days spent in the sun with his children, long sunsets, and endless nights with Avriel.
War would come again, he knew.
But he would not take part in it.
Whill had done his share and more.
Now it was time to live.
The Warcrown Legacy Page 18