Odyssey of Shadows

III - A Chance Encounter

"My king." Varenyl bowed respectively before the High King of the Sylvari elves, a king that was now reduced to a refugee living in a mountain cave.

The elderly king nodded at Varenyl, his pale, dim blue eyes filled with grief and sadness. His gnarled and skeletal like hand rested gently on his thin lap. Everybody knew that the king would not last much longer; already of failing health, the grief and terror of Lyrenbel's destruction had pushed him over the edge.

"You have the eyes of a man wanting revenge, Jorona," said the old king weakly. "Am I correct?"

Varenyl breathed out a nervous breath. "Yes sir. I have come to ask that I be dismissed."

The soldier standing by the king's side meaningfully eyed Varenyl from under his helmet. He ever so slightly shook his head in disapproval. Varenyl saw the guard's gesture, but grimly pretended not to notice.

"You seek the dragon's head," the king stated. His thin, grey eyebrows wrinkled in concern. "Varenyl...I have known you for nearly seventy years. You're a good man with a big heart. But please, do not let yourself be driven mad with grief. You'll be one hundred and sixty eight years old this year, if I am not mistaken. I'd love to see you live to be my age. But if you go out after that creature, you will not be coming back alive."

Varenyl's gaze fell to the floor. When he looked back at the king, he had the eyes of a man who was prepared to accomplish his goal no matter what. "With all due respect, my lord...I really don't have anything to live for at the moment. The only thing keeping me from cutting my throat now is the knowledge that that dragon is still out there, with the blood of my wife and child on its claws."

The king let a soft breath. He gazed at Varenyl with a large amount of pity in his dim eyes. Varenyl's desperation grew. He took a slight step closer.

"Please, King Sebastien," he begged. "I want that dragon's head on a pike! I will make it pay for what it has done to my family, and to our people!"

"Revenge is a man's worst enemy, Varenyl. If I learned anything in the five hundred years I've lived on this planet, that is it." The old man shook his head. "Please do not think that I do not understand your pain. I have unfortunately managed to outlive my wife, who I was married to for nearly four hundred years, and all three of my sons. I laid them all to rest myself. No parent should have to bury their child. I understand what it feels like to want revenge, to watch your loved ones die right before your eyes. But I cannot let you go, Jorona."

Varenyl's hand clenched. He took another step closer to where the king sat. The guard standing next to Sebastien took a step forward as well, his two handed axe held out in front of him. The guard eyed his comrade with a menacing stare, showing that even though they were brothers in arms, he would not hesitate to kill Varenyl if he laid so much as a finger on the king.

"No, you don't understand! I watched my wife and child burn alive! I watched as the flesh slowly melted off their bones, and I heard their cries of agony!" Varenyl hoarsely cried. Tears glistened in his blue eyes, but he was no longer able to weep. "I let them die! Can't you see? They're dead because of me! And my daughter died on a promise that was never kept! Why...why wasn't I there for them?" He sank to his knees, his eyes wide and blank. "Why didn't I listen to her? Kiveria and Evelyn...please forgive me...." He dug his fingers into the dirt covered floor in grief induced rage as his face contorted in agony. 

The king slowly stood up. The guard beside him put a gentle hand on Sebastien's shoulder to help him. After a few moments of struggling, the old man found his balance and walked feebly over to Varenyl. He put a hand on the soldier's blond haired head.