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Some choose to fall behind

Some choose to lead

Some choose a golden path

Laden with greed

But it’s the noble heart

That makes you strong

And in that heart, I'm with you all along...


- Blackmore's Night: Old Village Lanterne.


Song of the Naaru.


I like mornings. The fresh air of it. The silence before the busy day, albeit here in Moonglade it always seems so calm, even during the more busy hours as various druids of both Kaldorei and Tauren come and go about their business.

I can't see the rising sun, but I do not mind. I've gotten used to it. Besides, I can still sense it, even though the thick leaves of the tall trees that I know cover this most fair vale makes it hard for the rays of the sun to penetrate the green roof that almost hovers above us like the clouds on the sky. Birds sing to eachother and in my ears it sounds wonderful. It makes me smile and stills the turmoil that rages within me.

Song...

Yes, like the song of O'ros in the Exodar. How deeply that creature could touch me, even when I was angry at him. His strange chiming tune, calm and slow as it entered my mind, penetrated my soul, enraptured my heart in a strange otherworldly fashion as I perceived the shining Light within his being and his words - in the images he would show me, some of Light, some of Darkness. Even the vast universe, the Great Dark that he had ventured through had these constants.

I frown on this concept, remembering all the Shadow wrecks that had spouted to me their silly excuses for their faith. "There can't be Light without shadows."

I pity them now as I did then, for their lack of sight. There can be Light without shadows - a heavenly idea, but I know it's not impossible. On this world? Well, perchance. Yet I know still deep within my soul, and how I long for such a bliss. Granted, I doubt it'll be on this war-torn world, or that of this strange and dark Outland that so many have been speaking of.

But then I remember his song again... So deep, enduring in hope, beauty...angelic.

I smile as I feel a gentle brush of wind caress my face, causing my hair to fall down in my face. With a hand I brush it aside as gently as its cause.

Gentle...

Yes, that was his voice, as he spoke without words or gestures.

I lift my face a little, and I feel...glad, at peace. And I frown on this. I can feel peace inside of me. The pain that I suffer seems for a moment so...so insignificant, of no matter.

And I hear him again...

Calling me...

O'ros...

Peace, love, hope, endurance, kindness...

Light...

I want to ask him a thousand questions, to plead him for a thousand causes, a thousand reasons for why I live, for why I exist, for why people turn to me, why people think me greater than I feel myself.

Why do some of them revere me as they do, O'ros?

Why are some seeming as though in awe when they speak to me?

I never wanted this... I just wanted to help... To serve the Light with all of my heart. To be a defender of the innocent, an arm of strength for the weak, to give to those who have nothing, to love those who are not loved, to comfort those who cry and mourn...

Why do some say I'm weak for desiring so? Am I wrong to be selfless? Should I do like them and not care? Should I revel in the blood of my enemies? Take their heads as trophies and mock their mothers who gave them birth, nurtured them in love and hope?

No...

I could never do that...as surely as I know that my mother, had she been alive still, would fall down to the ground in grief had an enemy done so with me...

Oh, mother...father... I still can't quite remember your faces...

I sigh, and again his song grows stronger, and I smile faintly as I feel warmth caress my face - a ray from the rising sun peering through the green roof of leaves.

And I am comforted.

Thank you, O'ros...

Thank you for your song to me...

I hope I will remember it through the day.

I hope I will matter in the end.

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