Getting Reacquainted
Originally published at Fire at Dawn. You can comment here or there.
24th of April, Year 40
A lot has happened the past few nights, I can scarcely believe it. I hope I can recount it all here accurately.
A few nights ago I got reacquainted with a man I once knew when I was much younger and still an acolyte. His name is Luthorialan Ravenglory, the surname of which is fitting for him as he has long, glossy dark hair much like a raven’s feathers (that I assume runs in his family). I knew him from the academy where I had studied a bit, he was one of the teachers if I recall correctly. I’d forgotten about him, honestly, as we didn’t interact much except for once when I was rather drunk. I didn’t even recognize him when I saw him again.
I was picking up a book about healing properties of plants from the Herbalist in Silvermoon that evening. It was early yet and I didn’t feel like making the long way back to Dalaran to read in the Legerdemain, where I usually spread books across the table and engross myself (as I am as I write this) so I decided to find a bench near the Spire to read instead and just relax. Every bench was occupied, though, except for one that only had one person sitting on it. I asked the man there if he minded if I sit in the space next to him, interrupting him from his deep thoughts. He didn’t mind, it seemed, after he realized I was standing over him, and we got to talking a bit. I still hadn’t recognized him.
After a short bit of time, we were interrupted by an auburn-haired woman, I think her name was Carinthia but I am not certain. She was someone the man recognized, and they got into a bit of an argument. They had a heated exchange, words about things I probably didn’t need to overhear about anyone, let alone someone I scarcely know. I tried to keep my eyes trained on my book, but I stole glances at the two of them every so often over the course of their altercation. I won’t write the details of that here, as I don’t think it’s too important, but I realized I recognized some of the names mentioned: Saha’sharath and Tamrelyn in particular, whom I had met earlier this month. It made me a little uneasy watching the two converse… she even attempted to kiss him after and he pushed her away.
Needless to say, after she finally left he wasn’t in a good mood. He apologized to me for baring witness, and asked if we could start over. That’s when he finally introduced himself officially as Luthorialan, and I recognized his name. Sometimes I forget how small the world is, until moments like this.
The academy used to hold social events for the students and such, and I attended a few of them just so that I wasn’t always alone (as being so into my studies had that unfortunate side affect). At one of them, I was having a bad day and therefore drank much more wine than I had intended to. I was pretty drunk, and Luthor, being the man he was at the time, hit on me and tried to convince me to go back to his room with him. I knew better, even on all that wine, and turned him down. Apparently I was the only one to do this. (Yes, I was a bit of a prude at that age but I don’t regret it. I’m not that prudish now, though I have still only laid with one man and that was Aremar.)
Luthor seemed relieved to remember I had turned him down that night. As it turns out, he’s a changed man. Or at least making a very conscious effort to be changed. I admire that kind of resilience in people: when they realize how they have been in the past and instead of allowing it to continue or to self-pity they actually put forth the goal to be a better person. It helps strengthen my hope in our ability to adapt and promote good in our world.
The next day I ran into him again, ironically. Almost as if fate was aligning our paths together, if you believe in that sort of thing. I had gone to Light’s Hope Chapel to pick up yet another book (I have this thing for books, you see, especially ones related to healing in any form). This time a rather old volume about the virtues of the Light that I find so many followers of the philosophy forget about, especially the last and most important one: Compassion.
Anyway, he was in the cemetery. I was walking through, studying the gravestones and reciting small blessings as I passed. I found him under a tree in the very back, situated near the gravestones of his late fiancé and father, lost in his thoughts as he had been the day before on the bench in Silvermoon. I was able to walk right up to him without him noticing me yet. I had to tap him on the shoulder with my book to get his attention.
We spent a good while talking, seated on the grass with our backs rested against the trunk of the tree. I blessed Aca’s grave for him, it was the best gesture I could offer for someone who is grieving as he is. I didn’t move to bless his father’s grave because of the way he was staring at it, so pointedly. So that is what we talked about, his father. Who he was as a person and about how he died. I promised not to not relay any information on the latter to anyone, so I won’t even write it here. All I will say is that even though he felt his father’s death was well deserved, he didn’t do it.
After all that we talked a bit about my past, my parents. I told him I was an orphan and I could see the touch of pity in his eyes upon hearing it. I told him about working with the tailor and the jeweler to make money for food, I told him what I can remember of my mother and that I still have all the books from her library. I didn’t share much else. In retrospect, he shared a lot more about himself with me than I did of myself with him. I think I must have a trusting face or something, because this he is not the first person I barely know to share with me some of his darkest secrets. But I am happy to listen to anyone who needs an ear.
We got onto the topic of having worthwhile things to do, somehow. I think it was because we were talking about how I still make clothing and jewelry, that the skills I learned in my youth had come in handy and paid off over the years. He mentioned he plays violin, and when I asked if I could ever hear him play he said it would cost me a date.
I was taken aback by this, as I wasn’t expecting it at all. I haven’t been on a date since… well, since I dated Landrari. It has been years. Even though I have been interested in other men between Landrari and now, I never dated any of them. I still have all the fears I have written in the past about men and those who get close to me. How they hurt me, or get hurt themselves, or simply disappear. I know I do not have a good track record when it comes to relationships.
My reaction to his asking me must have seemed like I wasn’t interested. He said that if I didn’t want to, I could just say so. But here’s the thing, I did want to go. I just thought it might be too soon for him, as his fiancé has only been gone a few months. I didn’t think it was enough time to morn. It took me years to get over Aremar, though I admit I never fully got closure with him until Haldrat came along. So perhaps Luthor is simply trying to speed up his mourning process.
Either way, it doesn’t matter. I agreed to go do dinner with him.
We met last night for dinner in Silvermoon. The food was delicious, and we ate to our fill. Afterwards, at Luthor’s suggestion since he offered me his arm, we took a stroll through Eversong Woods to the shore of the Isle north of the city. When we arrived at the shore, he instructed me to take a seat as he pulled his violin out of his magicked bag.
Again, I wasn’t expecting this. I was delighted at the sight of the violin, though. No one has ever played an instrument for me, let alone the small concert he performed just for me. A few of the songs were jaunty, one sad, all equally beautiful and potent. The music alone entranced me, but the way he closed his eyes as he played and tapped his foot along to keep the pace was most charming. And the way he smiled… he looked so happy. I’d never seen him so happy, and it made me warm inside to see him so.
By the time his performance ended, it was late. He took a hold of my hand and kissed my knuckles, thanking me for the evening. Truly I have never had a night quite like that, but he insisted on thanking me and that it did more for him than me. We stood there, he still holding my hand, gazing at the moon for a bit before parting ways.
Though he didn’t move to kiss me, as I thought he might, the evening all-in-all was quite romantic. I like him, Journal. I hope I am not stupid to do so, but only time will tell.