The Journal of Da-an Fang
Posted: Wed Dec 14, 2011 12:13 am
The leather-bound book is worn and beaten. It has seen many roads and been to many places, but it is kept well by its owner.
Its most recent entry reads:
I have met the half-elf Catam, by chance, on the Lion's Way. This was the one Nathaniel Collins told me to seek.
"I am Fang Da-an, and I would ask for your help," I told Catam after he introduced himself. "I seek an elf. A female elf, by the name of Elisuna. Do you know who she is? Where she lives? Can you find her?"
"I can find her . . . " the half-elf began. But he then became pensive. "Fang . . . I know the name." He looked at my katanas. "And I know those blades."
"They were given to me in Neverwinter," I told Catam. It was true, then. This half-elf knew my father.
Catam nodded. "I think I even gifted one or two of those to the original owner." Possible. If this was true, then I might not even have to find Elisuna.
Catam noticed my frown. "That is not good news to you?"
"I do not know how I feel about all of this, truth be told," I confessed. "But I aim to find out."
"Show me the symbol of the Great Mother," Catam asked. With only a second of hesitation, I showed him the symbol of Chauntea that I had carved for myself in my youth.
The half-elf smiled. "I was tutored in my youth by a priest who carried that symbol."
"In my homeland," I told him, "Her followers are persecuted. And often put to death." Could it really be that those who worshipped Her did not have to hide their faith here? "It is a travesty," I told him.
"It is," Catam agreed. He bowed low. "I am at your service, kind Fang. I will find Elisuna."
"My thanks." I told him of my intentions. Of how the moon elf Silias agreed to try resurrecting my father, if I could only find his resting spot.
"I saw her bring back to life a dead elf," I told Catam, "and hope that she might work the same magic for my father."
"For what end . . . ?" Catam asked.
I must have frowned as I pondered the question. "I do not know," I confessed at last. Acknowledgment, I suppose. To challenge him. Not in a fight. But to see him, and what others saw in him."
The half-elf studied my face intently as I spoke. "You did not know him," he said.
I am sure my smile was bitter. "Oh, I knew him. When I was little, as one of his many students."
"But . . . did you not know him in later years?" Catam asked.
"No. He did not even know I was his son. . . . And I did not know he was my father." I recognized that the feeling of resentment was becoming strong. I tried to let it pass. It was difficult. "My mother lived a selfish lie."
"And you want to be certain that you are his son," Catam said.
Was that it? " . . . I suppose. I do not have reason to believe that she lied to me, at the end, when she told me what she told me. But yes, she could have been lying, even then. I would like to know. For sure, I would like to know."
"Would it help if I told you that you look very much like him," Catam told me. "Younger of course, and no beard."
How many times I have heard that. "I have been told this before," was all I told the half-elf.
"By Aston . . . the paladin . . . ?"
He was only one of many. "Yes, that was the paladin's name."
"He buried him," Catam told me.
Yes, I knew that Aston buried my father. "He and one other," I told Catam. "Aston said that she would be able to show me his resting spot."
"And your intention is to un-bury him." His disapproval was plain in his voice and expression.
How to explain so that this half-elf would understand? "When I was little, my mother made me join his classes at the monastery," I began. "He was terribly strict. Even brutal. When I sparred with him for one time, he cracked a rib as he knocked me to the ground. And then he told me that I was dead. No, he yelled that at me. I never went back." I paused, wondering how to continue. ". . . And then my mother swears that she loved him? I hear all these tales of his prowess and goodness?"
"Did he not know you were her child?" Catam asked.
"He knew I was her child," I answered. "He did not know I was his. . . . I do not think so, at any rate. You see? I simply do not know. Only he could answer all of my questions."
"And these questions might never be answered," the half-elf was bold enough to say.
"They can be," I told him. "If your elf god Corellon wills it, it is possible. I have seen Silias work this miracle."
"Fang . . . ."
"She spoke to her god and he answered her prayer," I told him. Why could he not see?
"I cannot allow you to un-bury him . . . ."
Anger clouded my mind. "What is the meaning of this?" I demanded of him.
"It is wrong to disturb a resting place." The nerve of this half-elf!
But after several moments, moments in which I might well have struck this half-elf down, I had to admit to myself that he was right. "But surely an exception can be made."
"It might not even work, if the soul is un-willing to heed the call of the priest." Catam was trying to placate me.
"He would heed the call of his own son!" Would he not?
"If it were your voice, perhaps." Catam's tone was maddening. "But can you call upon the Earth Mother like the priest can call upon the Great Father?"
"He would know that the cleric Silias calls him at his son's request, surely." I knew I was trying to convince myself.
"Nonetheless, the grave will not be disturbed. I will help you find the answers any other way but that." I marveled at Catam's nerve. I wondered, for one second, how difficult it would be to remove his head. But I put away such thoughts as unworthy.
"Will you find Elisuna?" I asked him, moving on.
"I will," Catam answered. "And even the priestess Silias. But not to uncover a grave."
"I have spoken to Silias myself," I told Catam. "She agreed to do this already. She agreed to try it."
"That is unfortunate . . . for I will not allow it." Thoughts of removing the half-elf's head surfaced in my mind once again. "Your father was a friend... and fought by my side many times."
"What right do you have to stop me?" I demanded. One of my father's katanas has an angry spirit inside of it, and I could feel the spirit urging me to action.
"The right of my heart," Catam answered. "I would do this for any of my friends lain to rest. I even . . . " He paused, as though experiencing a painful thought or memory. "I lost my wife recently. 'Eaten by orcs' were the words that a pirate used. The pirate that now claims to be the true father of the daughter my wife and I raised. A priest tried to resurrect her. The soul was unwilling . . . ."
I willed to angry spirit to be silent and waited for Catam to continue.
"My heart, Fang, is torn to pieces," Catam went on. "Yet I strive to accept and go on with my life: my path as a ranger of the Forest Queen. And I will not let you disturb the grave of my friend."
"You tried to resurrect her," I countered. "How is that any different from what I seek to do?"
"I did not."
"Then who?" I asked.
"There are certain things you should never ask me again," the half-elf warned. "That is one of them. The other is to help unbury your father."
It was fast becoming apparent that this meeting between rangers would not end harmoniously.
"I will find you again, when I am in a better mood," Catam said. "Good day. And . . . may the Great Mother be bountiful to you."
"Do not try to stop me," I warned him. "Chauntea's blessings, half-elf." I left him on the Lion's Way.
We will almost surely come to blows.
Its most recent entry reads:
I have met the half-elf Catam, by chance, on the Lion's Way. This was the one Nathaniel Collins told me to seek.
"I am Fang Da-an, and I would ask for your help," I told Catam after he introduced himself. "I seek an elf. A female elf, by the name of Elisuna. Do you know who she is? Where she lives? Can you find her?"
"I can find her . . . " the half-elf began. But he then became pensive. "Fang . . . I know the name." He looked at my katanas. "And I know those blades."
"They were given to me in Neverwinter," I told Catam. It was true, then. This half-elf knew my father.
Catam nodded. "I think I even gifted one or two of those to the original owner." Possible. If this was true, then I might not even have to find Elisuna.
Catam noticed my frown. "That is not good news to you?"
"I do not know how I feel about all of this, truth be told," I confessed. "But I aim to find out."
"Show me the symbol of the Great Mother," Catam asked. With only a second of hesitation, I showed him the symbol of Chauntea that I had carved for myself in my youth.
The half-elf smiled. "I was tutored in my youth by a priest who carried that symbol."
"In my homeland," I told him, "Her followers are persecuted. And often put to death." Could it really be that those who worshipped Her did not have to hide their faith here? "It is a travesty," I told him.
"It is," Catam agreed. He bowed low. "I am at your service, kind Fang. I will find Elisuna."
"My thanks." I told him of my intentions. Of how the moon elf Silias agreed to try resurrecting my father, if I could only find his resting spot.
"I saw her bring back to life a dead elf," I told Catam, "and hope that she might work the same magic for my father."
"For what end . . . ?" Catam asked.
I must have frowned as I pondered the question. "I do not know," I confessed at last. Acknowledgment, I suppose. To challenge him. Not in a fight. But to see him, and what others saw in him."
The half-elf studied my face intently as I spoke. "You did not know him," he said.
I am sure my smile was bitter. "Oh, I knew him. When I was little, as one of his many students."
"But . . . did you not know him in later years?" Catam asked.
"No. He did not even know I was his son. . . . And I did not know he was my father." I recognized that the feeling of resentment was becoming strong. I tried to let it pass. It was difficult. "My mother lived a selfish lie."
"And you want to be certain that you are his son," Catam said.
Was that it? " . . . I suppose. I do not have reason to believe that she lied to me, at the end, when she told me what she told me. But yes, she could have been lying, even then. I would like to know. For sure, I would like to know."
"Would it help if I told you that you look very much like him," Catam told me. "Younger of course, and no beard."
How many times I have heard that. "I have been told this before," was all I told the half-elf.
"By Aston . . . the paladin . . . ?"
He was only one of many. "Yes, that was the paladin's name."
"He buried him," Catam told me.
Yes, I knew that Aston buried my father. "He and one other," I told Catam. "Aston said that she would be able to show me his resting spot."
"And your intention is to un-bury him." His disapproval was plain in his voice and expression.
How to explain so that this half-elf would understand? "When I was little, my mother made me join his classes at the monastery," I began. "He was terribly strict. Even brutal. When I sparred with him for one time, he cracked a rib as he knocked me to the ground. And then he told me that I was dead. No, he yelled that at me. I never went back." I paused, wondering how to continue. ". . . And then my mother swears that she loved him? I hear all these tales of his prowess and goodness?"
"Did he not know you were her child?" Catam asked.
"He knew I was her child," I answered. "He did not know I was his. . . . I do not think so, at any rate. You see? I simply do not know. Only he could answer all of my questions."
"And these questions might never be answered," the half-elf was bold enough to say.
"They can be," I told him. "If your elf god Corellon wills it, it is possible. I have seen Silias work this miracle."
"Fang . . . ."
"She spoke to her god and he answered her prayer," I told him. Why could he not see?
"I cannot allow you to un-bury him . . . ."
Anger clouded my mind. "What is the meaning of this?" I demanded of him.
"It is wrong to disturb a resting place." The nerve of this half-elf!
But after several moments, moments in which I might well have struck this half-elf down, I had to admit to myself that he was right. "But surely an exception can be made."
"It might not even work, if the soul is un-willing to heed the call of the priest." Catam was trying to placate me.
"He would heed the call of his own son!" Would he not?
"If it were your voice, perhaps." Catam's tone was maddening. "But can you call upon the Earth Mother like the priest can call upon the Great Father?"
"He would know that the cleric Silias calls him at his son's request, surely." I knew I was trying to convince myself.
"Nonetheless, the grave will not be disturbed. I will help you find the answers any other way but that." I marveled at Catam's nerve. I wondered, for one second, how difficult it would be to remove his head. But I put away such thoughts as unworthy.
"Will you find Elisuna?" I asked him, moving on.
"I will," Catam answered. "And even the priestess Silias. But not to uncover a grave."
"I have spoken to Silias myself," I told Catam. "She agreed to do this already. She agreed to try it."
"That is unfortunate . . . for I will not allow it." Thoughts of removing the half-elf's head surfaced in my mind once again. "Your father was a friend... and fought by my side many times."
"What right do you have to stop me?" I demanded. One of my father's katanas has an angry spirit inside of it, and I could feel the spirit urging me to action.
"The right of my heart," Catam answered. "I would do this for any of my friends lain to rest. I even . . . " He paused, as though experiencing a painful thought or memory. "I lost my wife recently. 'Eaten by orcs' were the words that a pirate used. The pirate that now claims to be the true father of the daughter my wife and I raised. A priest tried to resurrect her. The soul was unwilling . . . ."
I willed to angry spirit to be silent and waited for Catam to continue.
"My heart, Fang, is torn to pieces," Catam went on. "Yet I strive to accept and go on with my life: my path as a ranger of the Forest Queen. And I will not let you disturb the grave of my friend."
"You tried to resurrect her," I countered. "How is that any different from what I seek to do?"
"I did not."
"Then who?" I asked.
"There are certain things you should never ask me again," the half-elf warned. "That is one of them. The other is to help unbury your father."
It was fast becoming apparent that this meeting between rangers would not end harmoniously.
"I will find you again, when I am in a better mood," Catam said. "Good day. And . . . may the Great Mother be bountiful to you."
"Do not try to stop me," I warned him. "Chauntea's blessings, half-elf." I left him on the Lion's Way.
We will almost surely come to blows.