| abstract
| - Despite his happy-go-lucky attitude and optimistic nature, Avren never really did have a memorable childhood, especially when the initial part of his life involved going through not one, but three Great Wars that shaped the World of Azeroth we know today. Born as a High Elf in Year 0 to Kael & Ayla Windrider, Avren never had much of a chance to see his parents as both were heavily involved with the High Elven Army, for his father was a ranger, and his mother, a priestess. When the First War began a year later, Avren was left in care of a nurse during their absence. Unfortunately, due to the nurse's inexperience and ignorance, the infant ended up being ill-treated during the course of the war. For days he would end up crying, and the nurse, not knowing that to do, would lock him up in his cot and sing badly tuned lullabies, hoping to put him to sleep. This carried on for years until the day the war ended, leaving Avren deprived and depressed. Fortunately, his parents survived and returned home safely, and upon reaching their home, they were shocked to discover Avren locked up again in his cot, while the nurse attempting to sedate him with a sleeping potion. Enraged, Kael kicked her out of the house (literally) and slammed the door behind her, before releasing his son from his cot-prison and embracing him in his arms. From that day on, his parents vowed to bring him up as a proper family, and had immediately requested only to perform light duties for the army. Of course, the High-Command obliged: Kael had successful led an ambush team while Ayla out-healed many of the other priestesses. Soon, the Windriders were living happily under one roof, and Avren quickly recovered from his previous torment. However, this happiness would not last long as the Second War begun. Having no other choice but to defend their beloved city, Kael & Ayla reported back to their posts immediately, but not before promising Avren that they will be reunited again as a family. Remembering not to make the same mistake again, they had asked one of their good friends to look after their son. During the entire course of the war, Avren stuck himself inside his room, sometimes crying, sometimes praying, that his parents would come back home safely. When word reached his ears that the war had ended, he immediately dashed out of his home and ran straight to the city gates. There was much rejoicing and celebration as the troops marched back into the city, for a good number had returned safe and sound. However, there were no signs of his parents. Avren slept over at the gates for over a week, hoping that they might come back with a different contingent. But on the last day of that week, at sunrise, his caretaker gently woke him. With a depressed sigh, he said, "I'm sorry to tell you this, my boy, but your parents... They did not make it. Their bodies were found in a camp. They were killed in an ambush." Upon hearing those words, his heart shattered. His mind went numb, and he couldn't even think. Even the tears he tried to shed stayed in him. He was torn and broken.
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