Birthday Memories [Closed.]

[Armandeus]

“. . . A birthday is a meaningless event for an Elf, Armandeus. There is no need to mark the passage of time when one lives as long as we do.”

Decades had passed since his father had spoken those words to him but now, as he lay looking up at the starry sky above they came back to him. Today was his two hundred and ninety-eighth birthday by his counting and even after all these years he wasn’t entirely sure if that was an accurate count.

He remembered when he had first become interested in the date of his birth. He had been young, very young then and in holding to his father’s words, the mention of one’s passing years was a rare and secretive event by the Elves in Faelon. Armandeus probably wouldn’t have heard of the word in the first place if it hadn’t been for some of the older Elflings in the village. Some of them had gotten close to one of the nearby human settlements and had overheard a birthday party in progress. The excitement on their faces as they rushed back to the village was a sight Armandeus had never forgotten, nor was the sounds of the angry hushed words of the Elders when they caught up to the group. Everything that had been said, he had not heard, but the meaning came across clear: there would be no more talk of such foolishness. Still a child, Armandeus hadn’t yet understood how a single word could cause such a disruption and so, he had turned to his father for guidance.

“What is a birthday, Father?”

He remembered the way his father had sighed, deep and filled with the knowledge that that there would be no evading a curious child’s questions. The larger Elf had reached down then and picked up his son, placing him upon his lap. “A birthday is the day you are born. The humans focus on this day to mark the passing of their years.”

“Do I have a birthday?” What a curious thing! A day that could tell how old one was and the sudden possibility of such a thing awoke a curiosity unmatched in the young Elf. Eagerly he had looked up into his father’s face, hopeful.

Looking back at the memory Armandeus could sense what had came next; the change in his father’s demeanor was slight, but he could see the way the man had tensed at the question and frowned disapprovingly. “Everyone was born on one day or another, but a birthday is a meaningless event for an Elf, Armandeus. There is no need to mark the passage of time when one lives as long as we do.”

“But Father -”

“No Armandeus. You are old enough to understand there are some things you should not question and I do not want you filling your head with such nonsense. There will be no more talk of this foolishness of birthdays.”

Back on the roof of the Inn Armandeus swallowed against the sudden lump that had formed in his throat. It was ridiculous, but even after all these years the words still stung. After that night he had never questioned his birthday again, at least not to his parents. It had taken several more years before he eventually came across an old record that mentioned his birth and it was from there he had made his calculations. Still, now as an adult he still held a lingering doubt as to whether it was truly the right date or not. It was something he would probably never find out for sure, but that was of little matter. He had a birthday, no matter the uncertainty that surrounded it.

Folding his arms behind his head, the green-haired Elf lay back upon the roof and closed his eyes. It was a beautiful late summer night with a clear sky and a delicious warm breeze. For Armandeus it was a perfect night to have a birthday, and it was all his.