“My father was not a kind man.” Iliae started, her eyes sweeping over the faces gathered around the stone on which her father’s body lay. Each had their eyes trained on her, some giving looks of hope, others of expectation and a few of fear. Taking an unsteady breath, she looked back down at the lifeless old man before her. “But he was an exceptionally caring one.”
“As a child, I never thought much of him. In all truth, I resented him for the dedication he showed to his work and bore jealousy against those he taught. Now, I see him for what he was, a teacher and a great man. A man when faced with the choice of betraying those he had worked, lived and breathed by, chose the noble course of giving his life to protect them…even when that meant keeping his own kin at bay.
My father never faltered in this, never gave into doubt or spared a glance at the gentler roads. Instead, he stood proud in the face of adversity and opened his heart and home to all who were in need of it.” Once again she looked at the refugees, her eyes pausing as she came across each. Many were human, A handful were Quel’dorei who clung to their once estranged Sin’dorei kin, then there were the half-breeds and unacceptables of the Horde. One in particular caught her gaze, a dark green troll child, who’s feet and small tusks told the story of the orc blood running through him.
“Even as the times changed, and the world continued to become a harsh, unforgiving place, Galvan Duskryder pushed to survive. He valued tradition, but dismissed misconceived notions of what defines acceptance. He believed that all races, no matter what blood runs through their veins, all had a heart beating beneath their chest and deserved the chance to a full, and peaceful life.
Even as I speak, change continues, and as my father did, I promise you that I will fight for it to change for the better and keep his hopes and work alive. While I cannot hope to provide half the wisdom my father held, or ever hope to achieve the level of sacrifice he gave, I will try. I will do everything within my power to continue his dream until one day, Azeroth is ready to listen to the wisdom in his words.”
Closing her eyes, Iliae blinked away tears. “Galvan Duskryder was not a good father, but in that, he became a great man who has touched many lives.” Now, she looked to her right. To her brother, who stood there sobbing like a small child; to Jackson Badger, who locked his jaw and could not tear his eyes from his idol; and to Melathanore Malarius, who held his head dipped in respect to the man he had only briefly known.
Moving down from the rock above, she made her way to her father’s side and laid a hand atop his. “Sho’rel a’ran, father.” Bending over, she kissed his forehead before stepping back and nodding to the collection of watchmen who stood dutifully to her left.
In formation, they approached the body, kneeling down at once and lifting the stretcher he lie on before carefully lowering him into the grave that had been dug for him.
As they moved aside for those gathered to pay their respects, Daeryan pulled Illy into a tight embrace. “But…I miss him.”
Rubbing his back, she looked to the grave as Melathanore placed a bottle of bourbon in atop the letters and keepsakes before closing her eyes and sighing. “I know Dae, I know.”
