These past few days have been some of the most confusing I can remember.

How is it I can reconcile myself to the idea of caring so deeply for two men who couldn't be so very different from one another? One I want to wash away his pain, remind him that life still happens even after losing the person you hold dearest. The other... he is beginning to take my heart. The prospect both terrifies and thrills me. I know I risk a great deal of pain opening up as I have to him. But pain is a part of the intricate dance of relationships, so I shouldn't shy away. Something in my core tells me any pain will be worth his smile.

I sound like a crush-addled 60-year-old. They are both more dear to me than I think either understands. I only hope I don't prove myself a fool in trying to handle what I feel.

((Below are more musical notations. There are two lines, a refrain written for two parts to sing in harmony.))

Sigh. Sometimes I really do wonder what I'm thinking when I do things. Most likely not thinking at all, which is probably part of the problem.

Honestly, Lyri. Have to get your head on straight, keep moving forward, and, for Light's sake, don't screw up a good thing.

((Below these lines are musical notations and scribbles. Many are crossed out, some circled, some repeated. It seems she is trying to compose a song.))

Dalaran is still one of my favorite cities. Mother didn't visit terribly often, but when she did, and I was lucky enough to be in tow, I looked at the towers and buildings and magic with a level of wonder only children are capable of. Quel'Thalas was beautiful and majestic; Dalaran was marvelous.

Once my brother Taris and I were on our own, we spent many leaves from our Farstrider duties there. The humans were not a new type of creature to us, but the Dalaran humans were their own culture and therefore their own particular type of fascinating. My first crush had been on a Quel'dorei mage older than my mother, which is probably why I found the mages so interesting. Probably why I found him so interesting.

Gravain Thurston. He was a human mage who'd spent all 26 years of his life in Dalaran. I was a Quel'dorei huntress well over a century his elder who had rarely stayed in one place for very long. Not opposites, but certainly not the type of couple most would've expected.

Father said I was a fool to fall in love with such a short lived being. Mother was too busy with a toddling Esper. Taris could've cared less, or if he did, he never once spoke against it.

Gravain's family was quite pleased. No, I wasn't a mage, but my elven blood would lend itself to strengthening the family line considerably.

It was a very small ceremony and perhaps the happiest day of my life. I continued my duties as a Farstrider, but preferring assignments close to my new home. Those 7 years are the years I never hope to lose as I age and memory fails me. We were happy. No children blessed us, and not for lack of trying on our part. As difficult as not building a family was at the time, the Light blessed us in its own way; I know that now.

When Dalaran fell, Gravain fell with it, as did so many others. I was miles and miles away and could do nothing except mourn him. In truth, I am unsure if he may have risen into undeath or not. A corpse was never found, but such was the case for many. Each time I visit the Undercity, I wonder if I will see him. And if I did, would I recognize him even? Love him? I am no longer the woman I was then; too much else has happened to add to my heavy heart.

I have thought of Gravain more often as of late. My new order is based in Hammerfall; the Undercity is the closest large city. So I wonder and remember while I stalk these Highlands. I am hopeful that the Lionsbane will provide the direction my life has lacked since Azeroth was rocking with the news of the Lich King Arthas' fall.

Spring is coming. Perhaps it is coming to my life as well.

I always knew I would be a Farstrider. From the time I could first toddle, Mother had a bow in my hand. I was her favorite. Some parents nearly kill themselves trying to disprove the concept of having a favorite among multiple children. My parents failed terribly at hiding it, so instead they made it work for us all.

I was the first-born; I have his hair and her burning need to be my own woman. Which is why she rarely spent time in Quel'Thalas proper if she could help it. Being a Farstrider gave her freedoms she knew being a Silvermoon guard's house wife would not. After I was born, she yearned for that freedom again. So she took me with her.

I learned, as most children do, by watching, listening when I wasn't supposed to, and mimicking. Every day of my life I strive to be a woman she would be proud to fight by the side of.

My brother was born second; Taris was especially quiet and somber even before our people's mighty anguish. Being the quiet type seemed to lend itself to natural skills at tracking and stalking. Everything I know about tracking and trapmaking I learned by being pounced on from the shadows by Taris. He was my junior by only 30 years; we were close, despite the moving between parents he did.

Esper was born after both Taris and I were adults. She was Father's favorite. Sass came to her in spades even as a babe; this made family meals quite an adventure. Esper showed substantial promise as a Priestess early, so her youth was spent in Quel'Thalas, being more than a little spoiled by our father and any young men who were unlucky enough to think they could win her full attention.

Before Esper was born, Taris and I joined the Farstriders, traveling where ever we were assigned, devouring life and living everything to their fulllest. We were (good natured) terrors to our superiors, I fear.

So many terrible pranks and so much laughter in those years. So much lost to me now.

For now I should set my quill aside. I have plans to meet a new friend from the Tome this eve and the last I need is to look the part of an emotional wreck.

A long time coming

I haven't taken the time to chronicle my thoughts in many, many years. I haven't always had the time or energy to relate everything that has happened, or really the heart to re-live some of them. Considering this, and that I've found myself in possession of a magic book that allows small messages somehow (I learned long ago to not question why or how magic goes about working...), I figured it couldn't hurt to revisit the possibility of putting things down on paper again. If I have time to jot little notes to several people throughout the day, I should manage to find even just a few minutes to relate, for posterity, the day's happening. Or week's. I haven't quite decided how often to aim for writing.

Currently, I've found myself in the Highlands. I was invited by an aquaintence I made through the magic book I mentioned. It has been many years since I visited; I'm quite pleased to see that it has mostly been untouched by the shattering. A hidden part of me hopes that this spur of the moment visit will lead to new friendships. I've been out of touch for far too long, and hearing a constant stream from Esper about her current infatuations can become quite... brain-turning-to-mush inducing.

So. Well. I suppose that'll do for the moment. Time to make my way back to Hammerfall.