A single candle illuminated the dark room; its orange flame cast dancing shadows across the walls, giving off the facade of life. It was a warm and cozy room, a benefit of its small, compact size. As a consequence however, it usually got a bit too warm in every other season besides the dead of winter. It was adorned with a dresser that was made of cedar wood from the minotaur homeland of I'lik Gund; a bed that, despite its age, had always been rather comfy; a mirror, a few chests, and a small writing desk.

A hundred and fifty years ago this writing desk had been extremely beautiful, lovingly crafted by some gifted and talented carpenter who had made it to last. Despite the carpenter's efforts, however, the wood was now cracked and splintered; if one were to run their finger over the wood, it would be highly likely that they would receive a splinter. But the writing desk was not worn out and weathered because it had been neglected; it was quite the opposite. The humble desk had been lovingly used by a long reigning family in the Tyranic Plains for nearly six generations.

Leravacha had received it after the death of her father, who had received it after the death of his father, and so on. The warrior woman had never been one for writing; she saw it as a waste of time. Why write petty poetry when you could wield hard steel and actually get something accomplished? So, she had sat the desk in the small room that both her and Rilvuldra had used as their bedroom and had promptly forgot about it.

This was the first time the Chieftain had ever sat in it. It was the first, and it would also be the last. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her dreadlocks fell down into her face. Her hands trembled as she dipped a small pen in an ink well and wrote on a yellowed piece of parchment. Her handwriting was far from beautiful; the words were blocky and often slanted sideways. But the words she wrote were legible, and that was all that mattered. Once she was finished, she held it up to the dim candle light. She sighed, deeming it satisfactory.

She leaned back in the chair, her head resting on her hand. She forced herself to relax and tightly clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking. After a while, she reached into one of her pockets and withdrew a small, shining silver band.

Rilvuldra's wedding ring.

She stared at it, turning it around and around in her hands as if she were in a trance. The metal was smooth, undamaged, and polished. It showed no signs of being in the fire. The ring was cool on Leravacha's hot skin, so cool that it made a cold chill run down the Chieftain's spine.

The ring had never once been cold when Rilvuldra had worn it.

Leravacha let out a deep, shuddering breath and closed her eyes. "You promised to never leave me...why must I be forced to let you go so soon? Why can't I see you again? Why can't you come back to me...."

The only answer that came was the sound of the ring slipping out of Leravacha's grasp and landing on the floor with a gentle clank.

And there the ring would remain; for Leravacha never again returned to this room, and ordered that the door be sealed shut, forever shrouding the elderly and humble writing desk in darkness.

No one would ever lay eyes on the words that had been written on the parchment that lay upon its rough hewn surface, words which had been written by a heartbroken hand and read:

"Promise that you'll wait for me."

~-~-~

It was nearly ten o'clock at night when Varenyl finally walked into the house that the companions were staying at.

Isendir, who was stoking the fire and mid-argument with Ragnus about whether or not griffins have manes, nearly dropped the poker when he heard the door open. He jerked his head around and, seeing who it was, sighed and stood up. "It's about time you came back. Where the hell have you been?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business, Highlander." Varenyl laid his cloak on a chair. The braids in his graying blond hair had managed to come loose. He glanced at Ragnus. "Don't look at me like that."

"You should know by now that he looks at everybody like that." Isendir massaged his temples and groaned. "Were you at least with Lorthrendel and Aerysdren? I haven't even seen those two today."

"They were with some young tribesmen, I believe. Not that I care, of course. I just saw them walk past me," Varenyl added monotonously. He yawned and plopped down in a chair in the corner of the room, shaking the last of his braids out.

"When that tall bastard gets here, ask him if griffins have manes." Ragnus glared at Isendir. "He's going to say yes!"

Isendir rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall. "You're an idiot."

As if on cue, the door opened again and Lorthrendel and Aerysdren strolled inside.

"Aerysdren, if you had a beard, I would probably die laughing," the fae muttered as he held the door open for the elf.

"Hey!" Ragnus jabbed a finger at Lorthrendel, startling the fae and making him jump. "Do griffins have manes?"

"Gods, why the hell are you shouting at me?" Lorthrendel readjusted his glasses and scowled at the dwarf. He swore and shut the door, continuing his way inside.

"He thinks griffins have manes," said Isendir wryly.

Aerysdren snorted.

"What?" Lorthrendel cast Ragnus an incredulous look. "Are you joking?"

Ragnus's lowered bushy eyebrows, which made his eyes barely visible, told the mage that he was not, in fact, joking.

Lorthrendel's gaze fell, as if he had just lost hope in all of humanity. "Blessed Ryna, please have mercy on me." He rubbed his temples. "I've had it up to here with stupid people and their stupid questions. I can only take so much for one day."

"See?" Isendir threw his hands up at Ragnus. "I told you!"

"Bah!"

"You've never even seen a griffin before!" Isendir shouted back. It took everything in him to resist the increasing urge to throw the fire poker at the old man.

"I think you're all idiots." Varenyl got up and left to pour himself something to drink.

"Where were you two?" Isendir, having enough, changed the subject.

"Some boy asked me to teach him a few things about magic," Lorthrendel returned. The fae took a seat by the fire and let his hair down. "Aerysdren just tagged along because he's Aerysdren, and that's what Aerysdren does."

"I told him that he should be a teacher." Aerysdren grinned and sat down with his legs crossed on the floor.

"If I could, I would. I love seeing a love for learning and knowledge flourish among people, and for young wizards to become more powerful in their magic." He shrugged, taking his gloves off. "That and, well, 'Master Lorthrendel' has a good ring to it."

"The last thing you need is for somebody to stoke your ego," Isendir shot back.

"I couldn't agree more," grunted Ragnus. The old dwarf took a puff from his pipe smoke.

Lorthrendel smiled charmingly but did not reply.

Varenyl returned a few minutes later, a glass of wine in his hand. He sat back down in his seat.

Isendir groaned inwardly, seeing a look in the elf's dull blue eyes that clearly said "I'm about to start off a long monologue that none of you want to hear".

"Just so you all know," the Sylvari began, "I am still hunting for that black dragon. Whatever happens tomorrow-"

"Varenyl, we've been through this." Isendir cast the Sylvari an exasperated glance. The Highlander was not in the mood for this.

"-know that I am not here because of any want to stop Vadrioth and save this miserable place." He took a sip from his glass. "On the off chance that we actually survive tomorrow-"

"Okay, how about we talk about something lighthearted?" Aerysdren abruptly interrupted everyone and clapped his hands together. "I ate grass one time. Isn't that interesting? Lorthrendel, tell us something interesting."

Varenyl's brows lowered over his eyes but he did not try and continue on with what he was saying, for which everyone was grateful for.

"I once got my nose broken by an older gentleman because I slept with his daughter," Lorthrendel returned. He sighed and shifted to a more comfortable position, letting his hair hang down the back of the chair. "Bloody hell, he was pissed."

Ragnus grunted. "I would have loved to see you get beat up." He grinned. He looked at Aerysdren. "And that doesn't surprise me in the slightest that you ate grass before."

Isendir chuckled to himself. "Did you learn your lesson?" he asked the mage.

"Considering that this was only a few years ago...no." Lorthrendel shrugged. "To be fair, it was mostly because of my glasses that he was angry. Said I wasn't 'good enough for her', like I wasn't on the High Council or anything." He stroked his chin, his eyes narrowing at the memory.

Ragnus let out a puff of smoke through his nose and leaned his head back after everybody fell silent. "Anybody want a smoke?" he offered. "Might be your last chance," he added with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Yes!" Aerysdren stopped mid yawn and instantly perked up.

Lorthrendel cast him a sharp glance. "No, Aerysdren."

"What?" Aerysdren frowned. "I'm of age!"

"By Sylvanaar law," Varenyl commented distastefully. "Your kind have very low standards."

"You sure as hell aren't 'of age' to me," Lorthrendel continued, ignoring Varenyl. He frowned at Ragnus. "Stop encouraging him, dwarf."

Isendir smiled. "I didn't know you could be so responsible, Lorthrendel," he teased. "Unfortunately for you, Aerys, I agree with him."

Aerysdren looked like he had just been stabbed in the back. He rolled his eyes and muttered something in Sylvanaar.

Lorthrendel suddenly gave a loud snort. "Why yes, I am a 'sadistic bastard', thank you for noticing, Aerysdren," he laughed, throwing his head back. "I applaud your choice of words!"

"Aerysdren." Isendir frowned in disapproval.

Aerysdren threw his hands up. "What?" He pointed at Lorthrendel. "He translated wrong!"

"Aye, that's my boy!" Ragnus blew a smoke ring and grinned through his beard.

And so, the night continued on. Laughter continued to boom throughout the house, and friendly jabs at each other were made. Stories and old memories were shared; some sad and tearful, others joyful and boisterous. Even Varenyl smiled and chuckled that night. For the first time in a long time, his eyes were filled with amusement and happiness.

After a while, they all fell asleep, their dreams filled the tastes and smells of home. They slept soundly, unaware that this would be the final night they ever spent together. 

***🐉***

please tell me any criticism you have ♡♡

i love every single one of you who read this...:')