Kirian falls silent. He can remember days after the fever broke, as he limped into the city, sweating from exertion and his sister begging him to stop, to go back home. But he had to go, he had to see, for himself, the city rebuilt. He had to know that Kael'thas, their prince, had returned to them.
To know that all hope was not lost.
And for what?
Had they failed him? Or had he failed them? It was difficult to truly say. And it was difficult to think that perhaps the rumors had been true about his final demise, in the Magister's Terrace.
His prince. He couldn't always justify everything that had been done- Nether knew he hated the abuse of power that the Magisters enjoyed while they ruled the city.
And yet, could Kirian truly say he could have done any better? Could any of them honestly say that there was no point that Kael'thas truly cared for them? Perhaps it was blind foolishness to believe so. But men rarely met such dramatic ends for things they didn't believe in.
And after all, they had survived with his help, didn't they?
Kirian takes a drink. "It is. I feel many of us can justify much, and though, perhaps, it was foolishness to think we could truly be saved...we've endured."
He looks back down at his tea, thinking for a moment. A drake had asked him once if he would change his past, if he could. Kirian had known how to answer, but the truth of it is that he wouldn't. He was an old fool now, but better for some things. He didn't believe his suffering to be divine, simply that he saw things differently, now. And perhaps that was better.
He'd rather be the man he knows than a stranger, he thinks.
"But perhaps, in some way, we're stronger for it...like a piece of tempered steel. No doubt our former friends and family would think we're mad to think so, but..." He shrugged slightly, recalling Ryel, his own blue-eyed cousin. "...we've survived. Quel'thalas has survived."
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To know that all hope was not lost.
And for what?
Had they failed him? Or had he failed them? It was difficult to truly say. And it was difficult to think that perhaps the rumors had been true about his final demise, in the Magister's Terrace.
His prince. He couldn't always justify everything that had been done- Nether knew he hated the abuse of power that the Magisters enjoyed while they ruled the city.
And yet, could Kirian truly say he could have done any better? Could any of them honestly say that there was no point that Kael'thas truly cared for them? Perhaps it was blind foolishness to believe so. But men rarely met such dramatic ends for things they didn't believe in.
And after all, they had survived with his help, didn't they?
Kirian takes a drink. "It is. I feel many of us can justify much, and though, perhaps, it was foolishness to think we could truly be saved...we've endured."
He looks back down at his tea, thinking for a moment. A drake had asked him once if he would change his past, if he could. Kirian had known how to answer, but the truth of it is that he wouldn't. He was an old fool now, but better for some things. He didn't believe his suffering to be divine, simply that he saw things differently, now. And perhaps that was better.
He'd rather be the man he knows than a stranger, he thinks.
"But perhaps, in some way, we're stronger for it...like a piece of tempered steel. No doubt our former friends and family would think we're mad to think so, but..." He shrugged slightly, recalling Ryel, his own blue-eyed cousin. "...we've survived. Quel'thalas has survived."