Ficly

"When I left you, I was but the learner..."

Ramar was tired. He was tired a lot lately. Numerous wounds in battle had left him with a number of permanent injuries. He’d never run again thanks to the last sortie where he’d squared off with a Drow. The injury had contributed to the flab around his waist by denying him his customary morning runs. In another race, it probably wouldn’t be noticeable, in an Eladrin he was considered morbidly obese.

Winds outside, heavy with water, rattled the panes of thin glass that kept them at bay. Ramar stared beyond, wondering if the storm was intent on drowning him in his study. Nearly hidden in the roar of the downpour, a soft rap came from the door, followed by two taps.

The old sword-mage wasn’t expecting any visitors- not anymore, but he thought he recognized the signature knock. Hope was a luxury of the past, and bitterness was of the now.

“Come in.” he growled.

In walked someone he hadn’t expected to see ever again- Jhendayre Ahrimanes. He had been one of his best students, and perhaps his greatest failure.

View this story's 4 comments.