I'll Be Here | D&D Backstory Project

2

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One's worth is earned
One's worth is made
Shame can be burned
But the legacy stains

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Noralor stumbled a little as she ran down the streets, weaving around the poised elves walking along the pathways with regal expressions, only to be barrelled into by a clumsy girl. She quickly dashed along the stone bridge, the spray of the waterfall grazing her face as she pushed on. Usually Noralor would that the time to enjoy the beautiful cliff side view and the many different waterfalls sloping around their city. But she was short on time and knew if she stopped for just one second she would get distracted.

"Excuse me! Sorry! Very sorry! I hope that wasn't important!" Noralor called over her shoulder and dove further into the crowd gathering in the square. The setting sun made the tall spiralling architecture gleam and the temple radiant in its flaming light. As Noralor slowed to a stop she could see a tall figure standing at the entrance of the temple, a perfect eyebrow curved as they set their silver, piercing eyes on her.

Gulping a little Noralor ducked her head and hurried towards the side entrance, sliding in and almost bumping into her father. "Noralor," He furrowed his brow. "Where were you?"

"I'm sorry," Noralor tried not to look out of breath. She straightened her posture and lifted her chin. "I was in the apothecary helping Thia with the medicine and I lost track of time."

Theren sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking at her briefly with a confused expression. "Where's your robe?"

Noralor felt her heart plummet as she glanced down. Sure enough, she was wearing a bright blue tunic instead of the beautiful crystal silver and white robes everyone else had on. "Oh no!" Noralor exclaimed and looked desperately at Theren. "I didn't change! I ran straight here."

"It's okay we can find something." Theren guided her further into the back wings of the temple, away from the dirty looks the other patrons were giving her.

Noralor wrung her hands anxiously as she stepped into the room. Theren searched through various cupboards for something for her to wear. Unfortunately, all he found were a few navy blue cloaks and table clothes. His daughter picked up one of the cream sheets with a forced smile and held it up.

"Maybe the church would like ghost as a mascot for the ceremony?" Noralor suggested. Theren sent her a tired look and pulled one of the cloaks around her.

"You're still going to stick out but at least it's not as bright." He muttered, pulling it closer over her clothes before he stepped back. His eyes roamed over her, taking in her appearance. His nervous, serious expression changed into something a little sadder, more melancholy and he brought a hand to brush the hair out of her face. His eyes took in her sharper face, wiser eyes, and strong shoulders from practicing the ancient elven dances day after day until she perfected it.

"You've grown up." Theren said quietly and he smiled. A true smile. Not the stiff, polite one's everyone seemed to wear.

Noralor laughed. "I have."

She looked down at herself. Mussed clothes, dark skin that didn't match the fair elves of the tribe, and stains on her fingertips from handling the herbs. At least she had her father's eyes. Blue as a blue jay as her stepmother likes to say.