Farewells

All her life, Lady Cristina Desouza had sought only one thing and that was peace. The peace of her surroundings, peace of mind, the peace of acknowledgement, and the peace of completeness of oneself had always eluded her. From the time she was a young elf proving her passions despite her parents demands to more recently the challenges of a force that would end all that is, her life always seemed to be in a state of constant turmoil and anxiety. That is, until now. For the first time that she could remember there was contentment and a complete inner calm within her being, and while it was almost alien to her, it was something totally welcomed. Here, in the Ardenweald forest, she lay looking at the azure sky stroking the feathers of Ru’vyn, the bird spirit of her beloved, whom she was engaged to in his mortal life. This was so perfect, she thought. After so many years of tormenting loss and unending pain, she finally had a chance to enjoy the companionship that she could find only in him, the completeness of spirit that he had offered to her so many years ago before the fire took him away from her. This indeed was the perfect life – the life that she deserved, the life that was so cruelly stolen from her by the fates. She remembered this feeling from long, long ago. It was one of moonlight dances, playful races through the forest, mediocre sung love songs, and gazing into each other’s eyes for an eternity. This was happiness.

“When must you return to Azeroth, my love?” Ru’vyn inquired as he rested his head on her soft and gentle bosom. It was the question that both never wanted to answer but knew had to be answered.

“I do not wish to return. My life, my happiness, is here with you,” she replied. “I could never in a thousand lifetimes find a soul so keen to mine as yours. It would be a foolish torture to even try. I am Protector of the Weald. I helped to defeat the Jailer and his wicked scheme. I will ask, no I will insist of the Winter Queen this favor to remain.”

“I wish you well, my fae wren and hope that she grants this boon for us,” Ru’vyn gently cooed.

So off Cristina went for an audience with the Winter Queen. The flight seemed to pass so swiftly to the Heart of the Forest, but Cristina’s patience would be thin this day. She must say yes, Cristina thought. It would only be right, she continued to muse.

“This is a most unusual request,” pondered the Winter Queen. “Those spirits who enter here have ended their time as mortals and are prepared to serve the cycle in a new light. Your mortal time is not yet complete. But your service to the weald and to all the Shadowlands has indeed preserved and maintained the cycle, and for that, we are grateful.”

Cristina pleaded longingly with her eyes and the Winter Queen could see the sorrow that had accumulated over the years. “Very well, maw walker,” the Winter Queen proclaimed, “You may stay in Ardenweald for the rest of your days but know this – the rift in the veil closes as we speak and once it is sealed, you shall never be able to return to Azeroth.”

Cristina humbly thanked the Winter Queen as she left her chambers. She was so relieved! Finally, the life that she had always dreamed was within her grasp. This would be such a day of celebration! Cristina needed to share this with someone. Who better than Tinuviele Moonspell, the Silver Covenant captain that she had adventured with not long ago in search of Lirath Windrunner’s spirit! She quickly teleported to Oribos in search of her sources that had once informed her of Tinuviele and her whereabouts. After scouring the grand central city of the Shadowlands for several days, Cristina finally found her source who revealed that Tinuviele had last been seen diving into the one place no soul wished to journey, The Maw.

Lady Desouza shuddered at the thought of returning there. The creatures and the tormented souls were uncomforting to say the least however gratuity dictated that she seek out this captain and thank her. Cristina dives into the maw and begins her search in the dark and foreboding realm. As there is no day or night, she loses track of how much time she had spent until finally she comes upon a lone figure dressed in ranger’s garb. Cristina approaches cautiously but the figure pauses, knowing they were being spied upon.

“Whoever you are, I can assure you of a quick death if you seek mine!” The voice was too familiar to Cristina. She had come upon the Dark Lady herself, Sylvanas Windrunner. Once recognized, Cristina and Sylvanas conversed about the discovery of Lirath and of course, Ru’vyn.

Curiously, Cristina asked Sylvanas what she would do upon finding Nathanos. Insightful as she was, Sylvanas carefully replied, “I know why you ask this of me, but it is a personal matter that we all must weigh carefully and decide as we see fit. My answer cannot be your answer, Captain Desouza. But if I did find Nathanos in this forsaken land, I would probably find a way to bargain him back to Azeroth with me. In any event, you should return to Silvermoon and notify your ranger general since it is your duty as a Farstrider captain.”

Lady Cristina thanked Sylvanas and went on her way, carefully considering her words. It would be difficult, but she should seek Ranger General Brightwing as well as her parents and inform them of her choice to remain in Ardenweald before the veil closed.

The travel to the mortal realm was quick thanks to the magic of the Ebon Blade mages. Portals are such a convenience, even when it is a matter of physical distance. In a manner of minutes, Cristina was in Silvermoon City and waiting for an audience with Ranger General Halduron Brightwing.

“Captain Desouza, to what do I owe this honor?” Brightwing queried. “I’ve been told that you have accomplished many great deeds defending Quel’Thalas and our people – for that matter, the entirety of Azeroth!”

“Ummm, yes my Ranger General,” Cristina stammered, “I ahhhh… aided many great heroes in destroying the… uhhh Jailer. But my part was quite small you see but I need to resign my captaincy. I… ummm have much personal business to finish in the Shadowlands.”

Anxiety was at a high speaking in the presence of the Ranger General. While casual conversation was always difficult for Cristina, addressing a superior officer was nothing less than frightening. She flashed back to her first commendation, remembering how easy it was to say the wrong words leading to public embarrassment. Brightwing stood pensively and quiet, elevating Cristina’s nervousness that much more. Oh gods, she thought, I have spoken out of turn and now he shall surely reprimand me!

The Ranger General prepared to speak, propping his chin with his thumb and resting his index finger alongside his cheek so as to draw attention to his words. “I am afraid that I cannot accept your resignation, captain,” he said. “There are too many other considerations that prevent me from letting you leave the Farstriders. The first of which is your pending promotion.”

“P-p-p-promotion???” stuttered a shocked Cristina.

“Indeed,” said Halduron with a satisfied smile, “your service in the Shadowlands provides an example of duty, honor, courage, and heart to all our young officers and the rank of ranger captain. As for personal leave, in light of the unusual circumstances surrounding you, I will grant you all the time you need. All that remains is your choice of a vanity title, something that the realm shall know you by for your great deeds.” Cristina paused for a moment, searching for the right words but she knew in her heart, there was only one correct answer. Years ago, when Cristina and Ru’vyn were engaged, Ru’vyn had given her a pet name of Fae Wren, referring to the small bright blue bird that could be found in the Eversong Woods just outside Silvermoon. “If it would please the Ranger General, I would choose my title to be ‘Fae Wren of Eversong’ as that is what my beloved calls… er called me and I would wish to honor his memory.”

“An honorable and heartfelt choice, ranger captain,” the Ranger General chimed. “From this day forth, you shall be known to all as Lady Cristina Desouza, Fae Wren of Eversong Ranger Captain of the Farstriders! Safe journeys to you and be well!”

Both pleased and relieved, Cristina Desouza properly salutes Halduron and exits the council chambers that she had entered not an hour ago. If only things would go as easily with Mother and Father, she considered. Her parents were shopkeeps. The father, a retired officer of the royal guard and honorary Knight while her mother was an experienced jewelcrafter of many years as well as bookkeeper. They had both hoped that Cristina would take ownership of the store in their older years, but Cristina’s passion lie in the woods and the creatures within. She had not forsaken her professions entirely though, as Cristina was a fairly skilled jewelcrafter and enchantress (though very few knew of this as she kept this a secret to herself).

The hardest part of this will be knocking on the door, Desouza said to herself. A few gentle and timid raps later, an older but not quite senior elf answers the door, “Do my eyes deceive me or is this my little ‘squirrel cheeks’? Do come in and sit Cristina! We thought we’d never see you again. Are you well? Is the war over? Dinia, come see what’s rode in on the sunbeams today!!” “Father, please! People are near,” Cristina pleaded, “and I could not be happier. I’ve found Ru’vun’s spirit beyond the veil and I am going there to remain with him!”

“Oh, Cristina such fanciful tales!” Dinia interrupted. “Why can you not let that poor elf’s spirit rest dear. I know his loss was a tragedy to you, but you need to let go and move on!”

Cristina went on to explain where she had been and all the fantastic things she had done, while her parents politely nodded and patronized her, as they thought she had lost her mind and was creating these stories and places. What can I possibly do to convince them this was all very real, she thought. The arrow of course! She could show them the Windrunner arrow that gifted to her from Sylvanas!

“If what I say is not true, how would you explain this?” Cristina proudly exclaims as she produces a single Windrunner arrow, gifted to her by Sylvanas some time ago marking her completion of her ‘special training’. Dinia and Althalor closely examine the shaft and fletchings recognizing it from the Windrunner armory and nod their heads solemnly in disappointment.

“All the years we raised you, Cristina,” a saddened Althalor stated, “we thought we taught you to be above thievery and deceit. This is a sad day indeed.”

Cristina was flabbergasted and distraught, “What do I have to prove to you that this was all real? I fought alongside Sylvanas Windrunner, Bolvar Fordragon, Baine Bloodhoof, Lady Jaina Proudmoore, and Thrall! This all really happened Father and Mother. I do not lie or steal! How can I prove this?”

It was then that Dinia noticed the ring of betrothal missing from Cristina’s finger. “What happened to the ring I made for you, Cristina?” she inquired. “Why do you no longer bear it?”

“I-I-I needed the metal to make a pair of betrothal rings for two people very dear to me,” Cristina sheepishly replied. “They are a very special couple with the same magic I saw in Ru’vyn and myself and at the time, I had no hope of ever seeing him again. So, I melted and separated the metals and made their rings.” Cristina went on the explain she met this couple in the Shadowlands during her adventures, repeatedly apologizing to Dinia for destroying her work and showing an image of the rings as proof of her crafting.

“My daughter, these are astounding!” Dinia cheered and was amazed. She had never seen such craftsmanship before except from her own table. Cristina was truly gifted. “I know how much that ring meant to you, my child, and it was no easy task to forfeit it so that you could craft such an exquisite pair of rings for your friends. Your stories sound fantastic and fanciful, but I do believe you.”

That was the breakthrough Cristina needed. Inside, she sighed deeply of relief and felt a great weight lift from her shoulders. Finally, her parents understood, and they all could move forward. The three continued to talk and parted with the warmest hugs and kisses that only parents and children lovingly share.

Cristina returned to Ardenweald before the veil finally closed. There is no turning back, she thought to herself, the die is cast. Returning to the familiar grove where she and Ru’vyn would often meet, she dismounted her shimmermist runner and pitched a whistle, summoning Ru’vyn almost immediately. She explained to him that as difficult as it was, she visited all those people that needed to know of her decision to stay and now they could finally begin the life they had always wanted to share.

“But what of your comrades that you adventured with?” Ru’vyn questioned. “Should you not bid them farewell also?”

As much as it stung Cristina to admit it, she knew that Ru’vyn was right. All the new friends she had made during her travels in the Shadowlands were surely entitled to a proper goodbye. She nodded in agreement and retired to their home to begin writing. Meanwhile, Ru’vyn scoured the forest for several hours discovering small plants and fruits to carry home for them to eat. Arriving with his beak full, he heard the distinct sound of sobbing coming from the house. Swiftly he flew to find Cristina at a small table with several pieces of parchment crumpled and tossed on the floor. She was visibly distraught and in tears.

With a mouthful of greens and berries he muttered, “My dearest, what troubles you so? Are the quills to dry of ink? Is the parchment too aged and tearing?”

Cristina replied, with tears streaming down her silken moon-touched face, “I have spoken face to face with so many these past few days and even though terrified to do so, I mustered the courage. Now, Ru’vyn, my love, as I sit to pen a letter to Allarae and Seserel the words escape me, and I am lost. Nothing I write can express how I feel, and I fear they will not understand.”

Ru’vyn flew to her side and rested on an antique wooden chair, extending a wing about her weary shoulders to comfort her, “My sweetest fae wren, as long as I have known you, you have always had the courage to see all things through. Write from your heart, for therein lies the truth and your friends will understand and appreciate your words.”

As her tears slowed, a smile spread across her face at Ru’vyn’s kind words, and she gently caressed his frame and kissed his feathery forehead before tapping his beak with her index finger and quickly drawing the finger away. Ru’vyn shook his head confused, wondering what she had just done.

“I believe Allarae called it a ‘boop’," Cristina smirked. "Amongst friends and loved ones it is a playful greeting, but apparently it is a touch of death to enemies. Perhaps I can tell you of the time I feigned death as a joke on her?”

“I would be curious to hear that tale, my beloved,” Ru’vyn giggled, “and I most definitely would not like to be an enemy of this person you speak of!”

"Forge faith, nuture hope, and always, always seek love" - Lady Cristina Desouza, Fae Wren of Eversong, Ranger Captain of the Farstriders