"That's a big axe you got there," a barmaid commented as she walked up to the elf sitting at the corner table. "Hope you don't plan on usin' it."

Varenyl groaned inwardly at the sound of her voice and looked at her through his fingers, unamused. "It serves its purpose." Please leave.

"Huh huh." The barmaid wiped her hands on her towel. "Do you plan on ordering something or are you just gonna sit there and take up space? Because if you are-"

"If it will make you leave me alone and give me some peace, I'll take a glass of the cheapest wine you have." It's not like this place is getting any business at all at the moment.

"Damn, alright then. I'll get that right out for you." The barmaid huffed before turning around and bouncing away, muttering what sounded to Varenyl to be, "pompous elven prick" underneath her breath.

Varenyl echoed her sigh and let his eyes close once more. Oh gods my head... I hate this city. All I want is some time alone-

"I've literally been looking for you since we left Stonewall," said an accented voice. "Trying to drink away your problems? It doesn't work. I've tried it too, old man. Trust me. Getting intoxicated is only fun when you're with someone else."

Varenyl grimly opened his eyes. He saw Isendir standing beside his small table.

The Sylvari leaned back in his chair as he gazed up at him. "You know, Highlander, in human years, I am actually younger than you by about five years. Old man."

Isendir chuckled. "Well, you don't look like it. I mean, you have those natural elven good looks that we humans all hate, but you ain't as good looking as me. But don't feel bad," he joked. He pulled the other chair out and sat down, straddling the back of it. "Nobody is," he added with a goofy grin and a wink.

Varenyl ever so slightly smiled. "Ragnus deserves a reward for putting up with you all this time. I wonder how he does it. Although, I suppose dwarves are known for having rather thick skin."

"I think it has more to do with the old bastard's head being thick, not his skin." Isendir jokingly shook his head. He was silent a moment. "So how you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm perfectly fine...I just feel like I am losing my head." Varenyl sighed deeply. "Is this what insanity feels like...?"

"You were traumatized. That's what happened, isn't it?" Isendir's kind, chocolate brown eyes were soft with sympathy and understanding. "Your family. You lost them."

Varenyl didn't respond, but the truth was betrayed by his averted, dull blue eyes.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" he said in a soft voice. "Like there's an important part of you that is just...gone. Forever. Never to be reclaimed until this life is over."

Varenyl ever slightly shook his head. "No man deserves to watch his wife and child burn alive. My daughter was...already dying. Painlessly, of a wasting sickness. She didn't deserve this. None of them did. But me...maybe I did." He looked up at Isendir. "I should have spent more time with them. With the both of them. But...I didn't. My daughter will never know the beauty of her homeland. Only pain and broken promises...."

"Do not blame yourself, Varenyl. Your family does not find fault in you for what happened, and neither should you."

"But I do." Varenyl scowled. "I watched them die. I saw as the dragon's red flames devoured their bodies. I heard their screams. There wasn't even any bodies to put to rest. Only the ashes of memories."

"What were their names?" Isendir asked after a moment of silence.

"My wife's name was Kiveria," Varenyl whispered. "I fell in love with her during my years training to be a soldier in the King's Royal Guard. I asked her to marry me nearly sixty years later." He smiled at the memory. "A bit of a long time to wait, even for us. But I was nervous about settling down with someone. She was definitely the one. We named our daughter Evelyn, but I liked to call her Evie."

"How old was she?" Isendir gently bounced his knee.

"Fifteen. Of course, that is only about seven human years," Varenyl added, almost as an afterthought. "She was going to have a sibling...." He looked back at Isendir. "What about you?"

"Married a wonderful woman named Tika. And unlike you, I didn't wait sixty years to marry her," Isendir added with a light smile. "I wanted to give her the world....I guess her definition of the 'world' was a child. I was completely against the idea at first." Isendir spread his hands wide as he talked. "But...in the end, she convinced me. And I'm glad she did." He nodded. "The gods graced us with a handsome young lad. Light skinned, brown eyes. We named him Isrendil. He'd be thirteen this winter. Which is I don't know how many years in your fancy elven years."

Varenyl let out a soft sigh, a small, sad smile playing at his lips. He rested the side of his head on his hand. "How do you do it? How do you stay so...positive and sane?"

"It's not easy. You never fully recover from the pain, and neither will you ever be the same person you were. I remember vividly those months after I escaped my execution...wandered town to town, drowning all my pain in the bottle. My mansion had been destroyed when Tika and Isrendil were...murdered. I had little money, and I spent it all on liquor." Isendir shrugged. "I had nothing else to do. My name had been slandered, my honor ripped to shreds. I was constantly looking over my shoulder.

"And yet, a soft voice inside my head kept telling me to keep going. To keep walking down this dark, overgrown road that was seemingly never ending. I wanted to ignore it, but I didn't. And eventually, I met that grumbling old bastard Ragnus Frostjaw. After that, things began to look up. Kind of, anyway." He gazed intently at Varenyl. "I can't imagine what you've been through, but do not blame yourself like me. It was because of my past mistakes that my wife and child died, their futures robbed from them because of me. And I can never forgive myself for that. But they don't want me to cut my life short. And neither do yours."

At that moment, the barmaid finally returned, bringing with her Varenyl's glass of wine. She angrily set it down on the table, causing a bit of the liquid to splash out of the cup.

"Enjoy." She looked at Isendir before stalking off.

Varenyl cast her a disgusted glance as she walked away. "What is with human females and their short tempers?" He exhaled deeply through his nose as he looked back at Isendir. "Thank you, Highlander. Your words bring me much comfort, but...I will still never be able to forgive myself. Not until the dragon that killed them and my people is dead at my feet."

"I can understand that." Isendir nodded."I am glad I met you, Jorona. Will you be staying with us?"

"Staying?"

"Ragnus, Aerysdren and I have decided that we will stay for the Council. Or rather, I convinced Ragnus that we're staying," Isendir added with a smile. "My friend Omar has room for one more if you're interested. Besides, whatever is said at the Council may help you find your dragon."

Varenyl was silent for a moment, thinking. He really didn't think he could face his people and King again after what he did. But, at the same time, he knew Isendir was right.

"Well, alright then. But I do not want to trouble you and your friend. I will stay here-"

"Nonsense!" Isendir put a hand on Varenyl's shoulder. "Stay with us. It's better than staying here, trust me. Omar has a really nice place, and he's a great cook."

Varenyl sighed and shook his head. "Fine, fine. I'll stay." He picked up his wine glass and took a small, cautious sip. He almost immediately spit it out and gagged.

"What is it?" Isendir's eyes widened in concern.

Varenyl grimaced as he wiped his hand across his mouth. "I'm not sure what in Ione's name was in that, but whatever it was, it definitely wasn't wine." He coughed. "Oh gods, that was horrid."

Isendir clapped his hands together and threw his head back. "I think you did something to piss off the barmaid, Varenyl," he laughed.

The Sylvari gagged yet again.

Isendir stood up, his shoulders heaving from his laughter. He put a hand on Varenyl's shoulder. "Come on man, lets go get you some water before you get sick."

~-~-~

The guest chamber corridor of the Rosepoint Palace was beautiful, with rose colored walls adorned with colorful and elegant paintings. Torches and candles lit the way since there were no windows available, and the entire corridor smelled strongly of roses.

Lorthrendel couldn't stand roses. It was hard for him to breathe in the corridor without scrunching up his nose in disgust. The mage hated roses. But he also knew that he was not romantic enough to understand their so called "symbolic" meaning. However, he was completely okay with that. He prefered the pursuits of knowledge to that of love. Despite this, the mage had had a few love affairs and one night stands in the past, the latter of which he wasn't exactly proud of.

He was, unfortunately, at that moment, in search of someone and he was dreading the conversation he was going to have to have with said person. It couldn't be helped, however. It was an important conversation.

Or at least he hoped it would be.

He hated meaningless conversation. But knowing the High Sorceress, the conversation would be anything but meaningless. She had a tendency to be very straight forward when it came to serious situations.

Deep in his musings, Lorthrendel was almost startled out of his skin when he suddenly heard her voice from behind him.

***🐉***

This chapter is dedicated to a friend of mine on here, MokoSun. She is a huge nerd like me and I love her for that xD Definitely check her out for me ❤️

I am very sorry for such a late update😭 I've had sooooo much work to do since school started, and I've just not had any time or energy to write. It's weird not being able to write xD

Please leave a vote if you enjoyed, and tell me any criticism and suggestions you have. I love each and every one of y'all ❤️

Until next time, which hopefully won't be very long~