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[Drayden Calamyr]

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The night was waning and the first rays of the sun were begining to peak over a flawless sea. The hues of red and orange still stung the dark elf's eyes as he looked over the scene he had not seen in nearly five decades. Drayden had lost count of the days, perhaps even months that he had been at his father's manor. The place had long been abandoned since Aramil's death but Drayden had made it his home for the past few months.

Since the fall of the Legion he had returned here to rethink things and catch up on some studies without being disturbed. Sighing he turned toward the now magnificent structure which stood before him, he had worked so hard these past months to restore his father's home. Which now had become his personal retreat from the hectic life he led. I hadn't spoken to Alessandra in months. This had burned him to the soul. He needed her. He needed her so much right now.

Drayden thought of her and only her these past months, and she became something of a drive for him. Motivated him and pushed his every action. He still stood there on the bluff which overlooked the western coast of the island. The Flame was strong here, so close to wind, where magic seemed to be the strongest. He kneeled resting a hand on a new found ally, a finely made Kryss that had been his father's. He found it in the armoury shortly after he had arrived. After careful work and practice he had learned how to use the weapon in conjunction with his magical skills he had worked on for most of his life.

Ironically, after the intense trials of learning the Arcane, this slender blade seemed so trivial, so.....simple. Despite his rather pompous view of using such a crude means of combat, he had descovered the complexity of the weapon he held. He truly had grown to respect it after being battered countless times by his magical entities he had fought against. Now, he truly felt he had the skill needed to wield it without making himself look like a fool, and without it hindering him more than helping.

The elf slid the weapon away as he entered House Grimoire. A home that had held several generations of his family. It seemed his father, Aramil El'Aden Grimoire would be the last. As Drayden had no intention of returning. He had restored the place only to honor his family name, nothing more. He walked down the stairs into the crypt below, the place that held the bodies of his ancestors past. and walked to the last statue. One of his father. A strong looking elf, Kryss out before him as if saluting an enemy.

Drayden looked up at the statue and fell to a knee, sadness brimming within his blue eyes. "If only you knew father, if only you were still here." He shook his head slowly, looking down at the stone floor. "I will not return, I have restored your honor, and I shall carry on your ways. But I must do so alone. I can no longer bear the burden of your death or your life." The statue shimmered softly, the ancient magics that bound Aramil to it still ran strong through the stone. And a ghostly image of his father stepped before the young Grimoire.

The voice echoed in his thoughts. [i]Go my son, there is nothing left here. You will need to release this place, release it to the Flame that you hold so dear. We came from such and shall be returned to it in turn. Please honor my last wish....and that of House Grimoire. Carry the name no more, as it is as dead as I.[/i] With that, Aramil vanished, leaving Drayden watching the statue with tears falling upon the stone floor of the crypt. With a sigh relief he stood, turning and leaving the Manor for the last time.

The wind had picked up a bit, a storm was brewing in the east and he could smell it in the air. It took several hours of casting the strongest spells he could muster. Firey rocks rained from the heavens upon House Grimoire, the clouds above gathered and angry bolts of lightning flashed down upon the now smoldering heap of what was once a great and majestic tower of the arcane. The enchantments upon the place crackled and flashed several times more causing a brilliant light show of red and blue.

Drayden awoke, his body ravaged by the magical energies he had expelled upon House Grimoire. It was done, his father's last wish had been fufilled, he could now leave without remorse, without the burden of his father's death, and without the dishonor of his family name. He stood and whispered softly in elven "The name Grimoire is no more, I shant hold the dishonor of a rejected house any longer. My name is Drayden Al'Tier Calamyr. Son of Vauleen Calamyr." He stood proudly and walked back towards his ship. leaving the smoking rubble of his family home behind him....forever.