In an age when villages still lived beneath the shadow of winged beasts, there existed a settlement known as Emberhold, a place whose hearths were often lit not for warmth, but against the terror descending from the skies.
Among its inhabitants lived a renowned dragon-slayer, Draven Ashfal. To the people, he was a guardian; to the creatures he hunted, an unrelenting adversary. Yet even beneath the armour of a warrior, Draven possessed a heart devoted to his family—his mother, his father, and his younger brother, Elian, whose innocence remained untouched by the bitterness of the world.
Draven also had a companion named Variek. Their friendship appeared unbreakable, for Draven treated him not as a mere acquaintance, but as a brother. Variek, however, concealed beneath his courteous exterior a resentment that had quietly grown into envy.
Not far from Emberhold lived Varkon, a man notorious for humiliating strangers and preying upon those unable to defend themselves. Draven despised him, and their hostility had become an unspoken feud.
What Draven failed to perceive was that the two shadows surrounding his life had begun to converge.
One evening, Variek persuaded Draven to accompany him on a distant walk. Meanwhile, Varkon approached the Ashfal household. The house that had once echoed with ordinary conversation was soon reduced to silence. Draven's parents were murdered.
Yet fate had spared one thread from being severed.
Elian had been outside with his companions.
Far from the village, Draven returned from his walk exhausted. Variek offered him water, concealing within the seemingly harmless drink a treachery far more poisonous than hatred itself. Draven collapsed, and before the night had fully descended, the dragon-slayer was gone.
When Elian returned, he found his home transformed into a place of mourning. The warmth that had once defined it had vanished. His parents were dead, and soon the truth concerning Draven reached him as well.
The boy who had once known only affection now encountered a world governed by deception.
When he discovered that Variek had conspired with Varkon, something within Elian changed. His innocence did not disappear in a single moment; rather, it receded gradually, like daylight surrendering to an approaching storm.
Years passed.
The child became a young man, and grief became purpose. Elian trained himself relentlessly, not merely to become strong, but to become capable of carrying out the sentence he had written in his own mind.
His first name upon that invisible sentence was Varkon.
Elian infiltrated Varkon's circle and patiently earned his confidence. He did not rush. He understood that vengeance favoured the patient. Eventually, he became one of Varkon's most trusted companions.
Then came the opportunity.
When Varkon was alone, Elian secretly tampered with the electrical wiring surrounding his bath. A moment later, the life of the man responsible for destroying his family was extinguished.
One name remained.
Variek.
But Variek had abandoned Emberhold and settled in a distant city. Elian followed his trail and discovered something he had never anticipated.
Variek had a daughter.
Her name was Namra.
Elian approached her, concealing his true purpose beneath affection. What began as an act of calculated deception gradually brought him into the innermost circle of Variek's family. Eventually, Elian married Namra and became, in the eyes of Variek, something far more dangerous than an enemy—a trusted member of his own household.
Years of patience culminated in a single journey.
During a family trip, Elian persuaded Variek to accompany him for a short walk. Their path eventually led them to the edge of a roaring waterfall.
There, beneath the deafening voice of the falling water, Elian finally confronted the man who had once shattered his childhood.
A single movement was enough.
Variek disappeared into the torrent below.
When Namra learned of her father's death, she turned to her husband for an explanation.
Elian merely told her that Variek had lost his footing.
And thus, the final debt was considered paid.
But revenge is a strange currency. It may settle an old account, yet it never restores what was taken.
Elian had avenged his family, but the innocent child who had once waited for his brother to return no longer existed.
Moral:
Betrayal may extinguish innocence and hatred may disguise itself as justice, but vengeance does not mend the wounds of the past; it merely teaches the wounded to live with them.