Part I
His Fathers Eyes
Over my time both in the Underdark and on the surface world, I have made friends. Though few in number compared to the number that some on humans might count, I consider each one of them to be extremely precious. Each one has judged me based on who I am and my actions rather than what I am.
Cattie Brie, Wulfgar, Bruenor, Regis, Montolio, all of these are names of those who have helped me out and guided me during my life. To this list there is another name equally as precious, though remembering it is bittersweet: Zaknafein.
Zaknafein was my teacher and my mentor, the one who I spent so many happy days with when I was yet a child and did not understand the ways of my people. The two of us were kindred spirits and in a world where friendships were broken easily for personal gain ours was the rare exception.
Zaknafein gave his life for me not just once, but twice. Often I have thought back to those times. The first time he gave up his life as a sacrifice to Lloth, the Spider Queen in my place. The second time as Malice's undead creation sent to destroy me. Despite the difficulties, he gained control over his body for long enough to ensure his own destruction rather than mine. Both times he acted completely selflessly, for my sake.
What drove him to do such a thing for me? If our roles were switched I know I would have done the same for him that he might have had a chance at a better life. All the same I have to wonder; what exactly were his thoughts? What did he expect me to do and where did he expect me to go after he was gone? I know he would have been proud of who I am now and how far I have come from the child he once taught. Still, I would give much to hear such words from his own mouth, to have his reassurances directly from him rather than from my imagination.
I cannot remember the color of my father's eyes. Perhaps I never knew, or never paid enough attention to make a mental note of it. The only color I know and can remember is the faint red which our eyes show in when we use infravision. What color his eyes might have appeared as on the surface world is now forever lost to me. The color of his eyes, it seems like such a small thing, until I think about how many other, seemingly trivial things I never knew or have forgotten about Zaknafein which made him the drow that he was. It occurs to me then that perhaps I did not understand him so very well at all.
There are hundreds of questions that I now long to ask him, this drow who was my father and shaped the course of my destiny. Alas, these are questions which I will never be able to ask him. As much as I may lament it, Zaknafein shall ever remain a mystery to me. Perhaps one day, after I have passed from this world I will meet him again and I will be able to look into his eyes and know.
Until such a time, I can only hope that, wherever he is, Zaknafein is resting in peace.
- Drizzt Do'Urden
His Fathers Eyes
Over my time both in the Underdark and on the surface world, I have made friends. Though few in number compared to the number that some on humans might count, I consider each one of them to be extremely precious. Each one has judged me based on who I am and my actions rather than what I am.
Cattie Brie, Wulfgar, Bruenor, Regis, Montolio, all of these are names of those who have helped me out and guided me during my life. To this list there is another name equally as precious, though remembering it is bittersweet: Zaknafein.
Zaknafein was my teacher and my mentor, the one who I spent so many happy days with when I was yet a child and did not understand the ways of my people. The two of us were kindred spirits and in a world where friendships were broken easily for personal gain ours was the rare exception.
Zaknafein gave his life for me not just once, but twice. Often I have thought back to those times. The first time he gave up his life as a sacrifice to Lloth, the Spider Queen in my place. The second time as Malice's undead creation sent to destroy me. Despite the difficulties, he gained control over his body for long enough to ensure his own destruction rather than mine. Both times he acted completely selflessly, for my sake.
What drove him to do such a thing for me? If our roles were switched I know I would have done the same for him that he might have had a chance at a better life. All the same I have to wonder; what exactly were his thoughts? What did he expect me to do and where did he expect me to go after he was gone? I know he would have been proud of who I am now and how far I have come from the child he once taught. Still, I would give much to hear such words from his own mouth, to have his reassurances directly from him rather than from my imagination.
I cannot remember the color of my father's eyes. Perhaps I never knew, or never paid enough attention to make a mental note of it. The only color I know and can remember is the faint red which our eyes show in when we use infravision. What color his eyes might have appeared as on the surface world is now forever lost to me. The color of his eyes, it seems like such a small thing, until I think about how many other, seemingly trivial things I never knew or have forgotten about Zaknafein which made him the drow that he was. It occurs to me then that perhaps I did not understand him so very well at all.
There are hundreds of questions that I now long to ask him, this drow who was my father and shaped the course of my destiny. Alas, these are questions which I will never be able to ask him. As much as I may lament it, Zaknafein shall ever remain a mystery to me. Perhaps one day, after I have passed from this world I will meet him again and I will be able to look into his eyes and know.
Until such a time, I can only hope that, wherever he is, Zaknafein is resting in peace.
- Drizzt Do'Urden