Many, many years past before the Third War and before a prince named Arthas marched his undead armies upon the splendor of Silvermoon, a middle-aged merchant who had retired a lieutenant of the Paladins of the Light guides his horse and cart through the Eversong Woods following a successful but very long purchasing trip. Althalor Desouza was used to hard work being in the military, but the long trips as he grew older became more and more tiring as he longed for the warmth of hearth and home with the love of his wife, Dinia and lone daughter, Cristina. The day will come soon, he thought to himself, when it will feel good to hand the daily operations of business over to someone younger and vibrant just waiting to explore all the world has to offer.
This particular trip was a special one though. In addition to the common wares that Althalor usually acquired for his little shop in Silvermoon City, he had beside him in a very secure and protected little box a pair of eyeglasses of the most unusual and finest craftsmanship. Althalor had researched, inquired, and investigated using couriers and contacts over several months to seek a lens grinder who would be skilled enough to craft such an item. Money was no object to Althalor for these glasses and their procurement alone was a great victory and well worth the travel. They were for Cristina as she suffered from a rare condition that made her eyes so sensitive to sunlight, she could not see properly and at times, exposure would even bring great pain.
Entering the grand gates of Silvermoon, Althalor felt much like the wartime champion returning from the front. His chest swelled with pride as he passed and greeted many of his customers, quickly addressing their inquiries. “Yes Aquista, I remembered the bolts of silk you had requested. Keltrinion, I have your raw Moldavite as promised. Oh, and Thesylandra, that soothing balm for your children’s sore teeth is safely packed on board.” It was days like this where Althalor was probably the most well-liked elf in all the realm, and it warmed his heart.
As soon as he turned the corner to enter the market square, a small, cloaked figure sprung from the modest structure that was Althalor Desouza’s general store, “All Things Dazzling & Delightful”. It was a young Cristina Desouza sprinting forth like a spring fawn to greet the father that she adored.
Cristina was bright and inquisitive, as well as coming the age of apprenticeship, so her father had already begun conversations with many successful shopkeepers, accountants, and financiers. It was in his mind that Cristina would be set on the path to become the new proprietor of “All Things…” once properly trained in the ways of business. He could then rest and live vicariously through his progeny’s success while enjoying the fine wines of Reynauria’s vineyards with dessert biscuits from Freymist’s bakery.
“Father, Father did you get them? Did you get the sunlight glasses you told me about? Do you think they shall work? They won’t be so huge on my face, will they?” questioned the anxious and excited little elven maid.
“Oh, of course my little chipmunk cheeks! Were they not readied; I doubt I would have made the trip. Now let me park the cart, you can help me unload our goods, then we will see to your new lenses, eh? You can tell me how well your cyphering and ledger studies went today,” Althalor chirped with a prideful grin.
As Althalor and Cristina unload the cart, Cristina uncomfortably and cautiously discusses with her father the matter of her studies. “Well Father, I… ummm… I think my… uhhh studies are ok, I guess? I mean to say I understand numbers and entries and such, but I do not see that as my life path. I hope to live in the woods with my animal friends and I will be married to a handsome and loving person who will look at me the way you look at Mother each day. And we shall have the most delightful picnics in the grove whilst the woodland creatures dance and play about with our children1.”
Althalor briefly rolled his eyes as he chuckled, “Oh my sweet little lady, your imagination is so wild and fanciful. Has Dinia been reading to you from those books of romance again? As fantastic as your vision may seem, it is not practical or sustainable. You will understand as you grow older and need to provide for yourself. Now here, try these lenses on and let us see if you can discard that cloak in the sunlight.”
Following the demise of Zovaal and near disbandment of his forces the realms of the Shadowlands slowly but surely returned to their original design and intentions. Ardenweald became the place of renewal and rebirth it was supposed to be with spirits and souls once again arriving anew to the great forest to restore and enrich the weald with their anima.
Lady Cristina and her beloved, Ru’vyn continued to travel and adventure together, seeking out the remaining resisting forces of evil and dispatching them. It was odd for Ru’vyn at first for in life he was a simple potter and had never faced such perilous encounters. Initially, he was content to perch on her shoulder and occasionally cheer her on to victory. But as time passed and he grew more accustomed, Ru’vyn would dart out at a would-be attacker and taunt them or distract them providing an opening for Cristina to deliver a critical shot, sometimes even a killing blow. A visit to the Sanctum of Domination proved nearly fatal to Ru’vyn. A sharp piercing blow delivered from one of the sanctum’s guardians seriously wounded Cristina’s beloved, and she realized at that moment, she could not stand to lose him a second time. “I think the weald needs us more, my dearest,” she said as she cradled Ru’vyn so tenderly in her arms, his little feathered head resting soundly in the crook of her elbow. “I would be happier hunting berries, bugs, and nuts with you for a lifetime.”
The two returned to Ardenweald that day, leaving the world of adventure for peaceful grove picnics on the brightest of sunny days. Ru’vyn would invite his woodland friends to join them in dancing and singing just as Cristina had told her father when she was a child. It was a dream come true for the Ranger Captain, and her heart was so full of joy that a smile never left her lips, even when sleeping. Many a day, Cristina and Ru’vyn would do nothing more than lay in the grass watch the wisps of clouds pass as they spoke of things mortal couples would.
One day, the two were counting berries they had foraged earlier in the day, when Cristina leaned forward to feed Ru’vyn a fresh blueberry and asked, “Beloved, would we have one, two, or more children?”
Ru’vyn was startled at first being proposed such an unusual query. “To be honest, dearest, we would have none since I am but spirit. But assuming it were possible, I guess we would have as many as we could love and fill our beds.”
Cristina smiled dreamily, “I knew I fell in love with the perfect partner! And what would we name them? I would be rather partial to Ruvina.” Thinking carefully Ru’vyn responded, “A beautiful choice with a resounding ring! Crisvyn sounds strong and bold, a leader born for sure!” Cristina closed her eyes and mouthed the name silently. Yes indeed, a perfect name she thought. Time passed as the two continued to live and love in their idyllic paradise. Every so often, the skies would turn dark, and a hard rain would fall with bolts of lightning and claps of thunder. Ru’vyn thought it odd, as he had never remembered such storms before, but it was not unlike him to forget things over time. Cristina was very disappointed one day when a storm arose out of seemingly nowhere when she had planned a special picnic for Ru’vyn’s birthday. Still, the race back to the house with their animal friends made the event rather fun, even though they had all gotten thoroughly soaked.
Months sped by and it seemed the storms had become more violent and damaging. The weather had become the talk of the weald and many of the denizens feared the coming of the end times. Cristina was called to audience with the Winter Queen to address the dire situation and she flew faster than forest sprites in a gale to the Heart of the Forest to attend.
Kneeling and bowing her head in the Winter Queen’s presence, Cristina addressed her sovereign, “Good day, my Queen. I am Lady Cristina, Protector of the Weald, here to serve. What it is you would ask of me?” The Queen sadly replied, “These are troubling times, my protector. Troubling times indeed. As long as I have presided over this realm, never has there been storms of this magnitude and such devastation. As time passes, it would appear they grow is size and ferocity. The people are concerned that we may be approaching end times as once foretold and fear for their safety. This I will not allow.” “I agree, my Queen. What is it that needs be done?” Cristina asked.
“Lady Cristina,” began the Queen, “We are extremely grateful for all your years of service as protector and the love and care you show your fellow creatures. You are truly an example to all of nobility, humility, kindness, and strength. It saddens me deeply, but I must ask you to leave Ardenweald and never return until your spirit is judged to this afterlife.”
Lady Cristina, shocked and puzzled by the queen’s words stared agape and silent unable to protest or inquire as to why.
The Winter Queen continued, “Even I am bound by rules and edicts that allow the realms to thrive as they do providing for all the souls and spirits that dwell here. Each realm must maintain balance, lest all the others become affected as well.”
“You are a remarkable mortal, Lady Cristina and as such a strong source of anima much more so than the creatures and beings of the weald. Your presence for a short time was tolerated by the realm but unfortunately the longer you stay, the greater the imbalance becomes. The storms are a mechanism the realm uses to restore balance and sadly, even they are not enough now. I am… sorry.” “I… I understand my Queen. As protector, I would never wish harm to come to any of the realms or their inhabitants,” Cristina solemnly stated. “Ru’vyn and I will leave come the morning.”
“Ru’vyn is to stay,” said the Queen. “They were consigned to Ardenweald many suns and moons ago when Arbiter was well. They cannot leave the realm until it is their time to serve the land of mortals again. This is how it must be.” Cristina exploded, “How it must be???? Is it then that I am always to be alone and separate from my true love??? Is THAT how it must be? This is beyond cruel, this fate. My mortal life has been nothing but empty torture! I give and I sacrifice for all my fellow creatures and the one time… the one time that I finally have a chance to be happy, it is taken away! It is as Sylvanas said, ‘Nothing lasts.’ Indeed, and I would add nothing good lasts.”
The Queen cautioned Cristina, “We understand how painful this is for you, our protector, but do have a care with your words in this court. We did not choose this course of action. It simply is something that must be done to preserve all that is. As our protector, we would expect you to do what is right and needed.” Cristina stood silent as stinging tears began to well in her eyes – tears of pain and grief, not unlike those that fell when she watched Ru’vyn’s pottery burn to the ground many years ago. Upon regaining her composure, Cristina replied, “Yes, my queen. I will do what is required as you have asked. Might I have one last day with my Ru’vyn before I depart?”
“I think the weald can allow this time for farewells,” the Winter Queen compassionately spoke. “Again, we are truly sorry, my child. May your last day in the weald be a bright and satisfying one.”
Cristina departed the Heart of the Forest for the long ride home. She was silent and reflective, occasionally diverting to dodge a storm cloud here and there, and cursing her bad luck or the weather as well. Sometimes she would see a cluster of thin, wispy clouds that would remind her of Ru’vyn and tears would stream down her face like twin rivers. She could not wait to return home and cuddle him listening to his gentle cooing while stroking his soft and supple feathers.
Upon arriving home, Cristina found Ru’vyn and sat him down at the table while she explained to him all that transpired in her visit with the queen. Ru’vyn simply sat quietly, not even making so much as a chirp but waddled to her and hopped on her lap, gently resting his head to one side to comfort them both.
The next day may have been the most memorable one for them both. Ru’vyn left early, just before dawn to gather berries, nuts, and bugs while Cristina prepared pie and set it to bake. She had set out her prettiest blue dress for today as they would have one last picnic together with their woodland friends. The sun shone brightly with just a few clouds in the sky, enough to make pictures from and dreams. They all dined in a field of lush blue grass sipping the sweetest wine. Cristina and Ru’vyn danced as newlyweds while their friends cheered and applauded. When all the wine and food was gone, it was time to go home – a trip that neither wanted to make.
“My fae wren,” Ru’vyn inquired, “You are not wearing your protectors mail? What is this dark foreboding garb?” “It is the vestments of a dark ranger I had procured many years ago in my pursuit of Sylvanas,” Cristina replied coldly. “It will suit me well in the days to come. I do not feel so protective and prideful, but cold and dark are most fitting.”
Ru’vyn pleaded, “As much as you do not want to go, I don’t want you to leave. But what will be left for us, for the realms, if you stay? This is a choice no one wants to make, my dearest, not you, me, our friends, or our Queen but so it must be. Our paths are at different points in our journeys but for a brief magical moment they intertwined, and it was magnificent! I had never even thought it possible, but I cherished every meal, every frolic, every sleep with you. I would do this exactly the same every time.”
“As would I, my love,” said Cristina quietly. “As Sylvanas said, ‘Nothing lasts.’ But at least we had more time than either one of us expected.”
Ru’vyn flew to her shoulder and perched upon it bearing a small pouch curiously tied to his neck. “What Sylvanas said is indeed true darling,” Ru’vyn said comfortingly, “but it also means that pain, heartache, suffering, and loneliness do not last as well. There will be more sunrises and sunsets for us. I feel this so much in my heart.”
“Take this pouch from my neck with you. It is a special gift that Aroo found for us. The quill is an enchanted wing feather of my own, and the bottle contains a mystical ink. Keep a journal of your adventures and travels for each time you write a page, I will hear the words in your voice so that I may know you are well. In this way, we will always be together.”
“I will never miss a day, my love,” vowed Cristina. “Fly swift and strong my Ru’vyn and be ever blessed.” “Farewell, my beautiful fae wren,” Ru’vyn replied, “until we meet again.”
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