I had been friends with Alek for quite a few years. He was a human, but I never held that against him. I met him while spending some time in Stormwind. I wanted to see the world, perhaps pick up some tips from others who hunt and fight. We met, we had a great conversation, he understood where I was coming from. That is hard to find in humans…for multiple reasons.
But, this isn’t about that.
I asked him what he was doing one day, seeing if perhaps he wanted to go fishing.
“Sorry, Z. I can’t go with you today. I have to fix the roof!” he said.
“Oh,” I said. “Let me help!”
He looked at me, slightly askance. “Do you have any clue about fixing a roof, Z?”
“Err…. No. Not really.” I replied.
“I thought so,” Alek said. “I tell you what. You can help me, but you have do exactly what I say. Do you think you could take orders from one so short lived as I?” Alek snickers just a bit with that comment.
I growled just a bit, “If you don’t mind being in the presence of one so long lived, wise, and benevolent…then yes, I can follow orders from one of the lesser races.” I sniffed a little bit after I said it…one of those really snooty sniffs.
We both broke into laughter with that.
So, the next day comes and I’m climbing on my first human roof. Theirs are different than ours. The tile was more slippy. It was harder to get a grip with my feet. I had scaled the cliffs of Northrend, nimbly cut across ice and stone at perilous heights…yet, this was giving me trouble.
“Zwingli, you must be very careful up here. Whatever you do, don’t stand straight up, and please don’t look over the side. Understand?” Darrion said.
I nodded, quite confident in my ability.
As the day went on, we worked tirelessly. Alek found an old piece of wood that needed to be replaced, up at the top of the roof. He tossed it to me saying, “Zwingli, throw this over the east side of the house, will ya?” He then turned to work on more of the wood, needing to be replaced.
“Sure thing I replied,” as I caught the piece in midflight. I stood up, stretched my back. nonchalantly tossed the wood over the side, letting my eyes follow it down.
As I did, I felt an uncomfortable shift in my center of gravity. I knew that I had done the wrong thing. There I was, about to plunge headlong down the side of the house, into a pile of discarded wood and jagged earthen shingles. As I started slowly tipping over, waiting on the terrible, slow, lagging fall. I heard a voice… I felt a tug…
“Whoa there, bubba. Come back here…” It was Alek, grabbing the hem of my tunic, pulling me back from the precipice.
That day, he saved my life…of that I am sure.
I was right. My friend was to short lived. I miss him greatly. I remember you this day, praying that you are having fun balancing upon the beams of Elune’s grace.
By my pen,
Zwingli
