I'm too old too live, that's the only thing I'm sure of in this world. I keep looking for death, but it seems to avoid me. It lets life torment me... some more.
It wasn't always like that.
I used to believe that my family will always be together.
My father was honored to be amongst the favorites of queen Azshara. When their lust for magic grown beyond their own control, the war started. My mother and I fled our home the night Malfurion assaulted the Well of Eternity. The Chronicles state what happened later. They do not, however, mention sons and daughters of the Highborne, young ones who did not fully understand what happened, why their beloved fathers and mothers were slain with hatred. I was seventeen back there. And life taught me a hard lesson, the first of many to come.
I believed in immortality..
..and I ceased to, when I lived with my mother in solitude, away from the persecutions. For long thirteen years, I watched her heart bleeding, crying out for her beloved Karhard, my father. I took his name, as the mere sound of it seemed to soothe her. When her eyes ran out of tears, when she constantly refused to eat and drink, when her skin turned pale, I knew her death was inevitable. "My love" those were her last words, when she died in my arms. I cried that night, for I knew she did not see me, even though her eyes were fixed on me. She lost touch with reality some months before that night. I was alone in this world, for the first time in my life.
I've put trust in peace...
... as my life became a stagnation. I was living an outcast's life, away from any civilization. I traded rare herbs and animal skins for weapons and clothes from passing trappers, who were the only elves I knew. My mother taught me the language of nature, of animals, and I lived with the Nightsabres. Throughout the millennia, they became my family. We grew to mutual understanding, and at one moment in my life, I think I was happy. Until war tore this family apart as well. Our forest burnt with my brothers in it, and I, with a vague understanding of the World, joined ranks with Kal'dorei, a nation I hated, in their war I did not understand.
I believed in a wicked race existing in a sane world...
... and it came out to be the other way round. Living with the elves, fighting by their side, learning from them, taught me that they were a morally responsible society. I realized they did what was right back then, during the first war. No one will ever hear those words coming out from me, nor will I admit my Highborne blood running through my veins before anyone.
After the battle of Hyjal, where each one of us fought and died like a hero worthy of a thousand tales, I could once again call Kal'dorei my nation. I stood with my brothers, captain of the first line of the elven defenses, awaiting scourge flood, and we were one flesh, one breath, one life, one blood. And we were victorious, even before the battle started.