Young Rachielle and Brigante were always friends, the girl next door, rough and tumble as any of the boys, always played in the gang. He would come home scruffy and covered in mud, his mother would laugh, his father would huff in disapproval “Her Family are Farstriders, you, my boy, are of a Magisterial Family, you will be a Magister of Quel’thalas, there is no higher honour, the Summerisles have always been so”
So it was, for years, until aged nine, young Brigante fled from his lessons, feigning sickness, he already knew what he could not tell father. He could understand the lessons, he understood the theory of Arcane Magic, but his own talent was flickering and low. He knew -how- to cast the spells, but the magic would not come to him. His elder brother, already being groomed as a city guard helped him sneak out of the window at night, so that he and Rachielle could just lie down, hold hands, and look at the stars together. “What do you see?” he said, with childlike innocence. “I see Stars, one day they will guide my path, and in the dark, I will see our enemies, what do -you-see ‘Magister’?”
He screwed up his eyes “I dream of being an eagle some times”.
The next day, after fleeing a lesson, he looked up into the skies and fell in love, for the second time in his life. He saw a flight of Dragonhawk riders soar over Silvermoon.
He fell in love, and knew what he wanted to do.
Hundreds of years later, the childhood sweethearts had become inseperable, lovers, Brigante’s father was furious still with him, and would not allow his name to be spoken at family dinners, but Rachielle and Brigante were happy enough, both Farstriders, she a Ranger Lieutenant, he a young Subaltern, a ‘Warhawk’ in the Dragonhawk riders.
Then the Scourge came…
Brigante’s mother was long dead, some two centuries ago, and his father, he over-exerted himself during the rebuilding of Quel’thalas. Something in his brain had snapped they said, He and Rachielle still had each other, until the time of the Schism.
They had both survived, though Brigante had spent a frantic hour running up and down boats headed to Quel’danas asking where she was. She was wounded, but alive. He simply held her. “I am here” he said. They both had scars.
When the Schism came, they had to make choices. Rachielle chose to go with her family, she could not endorse the new teachings, and headed to Theramore. Brigante was chained by the attitudes of patriotism his father had always instilled in him. He remained, a Dragonhawk rider of Quel’thalas.
They promised to write. Some day this madness would be over, and they could be together again.
Neither of them knew, that Rachielle was carrying his child. Rachielle did not know, she would have told him, it would have swayed his mind, she knew. But out of respect, the son, for it was a boy, was named Durovante, after Brigante’s grandfather, one of the original exiles.
They made a good home in Theramore, with the High Elf community. In time, she sent word via neutral channels, telling Brigante he was a father, and even a drawing of young Durovante.
By this time Brigante was a Flight Lieutenant, and on a fast track promotion scheme. He was delighted to be a father, and longed for the day that this insanity ended and he could meet his son, instead of just seeing pictures.
One day Rachielle woke Durovante, now ten years old, and said “You must grab all of your favourite things, and head to the Docks, Now! Right Now!”
“Where will you be Mama?”
“Here, but I have to be, you have to be at the Docks, Go on, do as I say!”
Durovante, usually a dutiful boy, ran, grabbed his things, and ran to the docks, he was not stupid, he knew the bad people were coming, but as he got to the ships, and saw the last trail of people getting on them, he realised something. He looked at the sky, and dreamed of eagles. He could save Mama. She always said “Dreaming of Eagles” is a good thing, he turned back and ran away from the civilian crowd, back to his mother.
Like the rest…he was naught but azure dust when the bomb fell…
In Quel’thalas, upon hearing of the attack, an elf screamed and screamed and screamed.
With horrible eyes, more akin to a raptor seeing a mouse, he screamed “I See you Hellscream! I Oppose you! I will see you laid low for my son who died without me ever seeing his face!”
That was when Brigante joined the Darkspear Rebellion…