Odyssey of Shadows

XL - Home

Lorthrendel slowly opened his eyes. He squinted in the dim light, trying to make sense of his blurred surroundings. He tried to sit up but he promptly gasped in pain and was forced to lay back down. He grimaced, his hand moving to his wound. Somebody had tightly wrapped bandages around his torso.

He rubbed his aching head. The bed he was lying in was very uncomfortable and felt no better than a rock, but he supposed it was better than nothing. He couldn't remember anything at that moment; not where he was, what happened, or why he was there at all. The last thing he remembered was fighting in Tribesmen's Bay....

"Ah, I was wondering if you planned on waking up eventually," came Varenyl's soft, exhausted voice. He heard movement from the room as the elf walked over to him. "Here. They're cracked, but they should still work to some extent." He took Lorthrendel's hand and plopped his glasses down in them.

The fae slowly put them on with a trembling hand. He blinked; they really were cracked. He looked around, still squinting. He recognized this room, with its dusty wooden walls and floors, and its arched ceiling. This had been his room as a child, when he had lived here with his adoptive parents. He gazed up at Varenyl, his brows wrinkled in confusion. The Sylvari's hair was a matted mess of blood and dirt, and he looked tired...so, so tired. Dark smudges lay underneath his eyes, and his blue eyes were even dimmer than usual.

"W-what happened?" Lorthrendel tried to sit up again. "Why are we-"

Varenyl put a hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him back down. "It makes sense that your memory is foggy. It will come back to you in due time," he said. "For now, I would advise you to stay in bed. I stitched up your wound, and I do not need you ripping it back open."

Lorthrendel silently and reluctantly did as he was told. He looked out the window; it was morning, and the sun was just beginning to retake its place in the sky. The dust particles that sifted down were illuminated in its pale light. It was peaceful, yet...melancholic, at the same time.

"My father used to take me swimming out in that pond," he said, almost to himself as he looked outside. "After I created my contacts, anyway.... Khaishriks do not share in felines' hatred for water," he added with a small smile. He looked back at Varenyl, who was sitting down in a chair, his head resting against the wall.

"Where are Ragnus and Isendir?" he asked.

Varenyl was quiet a moment before saying, "Isendir left sometime last night. Ragnus is downstairs sleeping." He crossed his arms over his chest and stretched his legs out.

"What?" Lorthrendel's face contorted in confusion. "What do you mean, 'he left'? Where did he go?"

"Now why in Ione's name would I know the answer to that, Lorthrendel." Varenyl heaved an exasperated sigh. "All Ragnus told me was that he ran off into the woods after burying Aerysdren."

"Burying Aerysdren-" It all came back to him at that moment. The screams, Aerysdren's story, the Amulet, the blood....

He covered his mouth with his hand. Aerysdren was gone. Aerysdren was gone and he was still here.

"Now don't start with that self pity bullshit with me, fae," Varenyl suddenly snapped, glaring at the mage. "I've heard enough of it. The boy is dead, and nothing can change that. What's done is done. You can't stay around feeling sorry for yourself or what has happened. If you plan on doing that, you can forget about me helping your sorry arse."

"What did I tell you about watching your tongue?" Lorthrendel's eyes narrowed. "I am not one for self pity, you little mountain sprite. I blame myself, but I do not plan on letting his death be in vain."