"The burden of a long life is many good-byes".
The words from Amaryllis never left his thoughts, since Vincent's funeral. The young elf kensai should be used to death by now; it follows a warrior wherever he goes.
But he wasn't.
No, he wasn't. Not like this. Eon didn't expect it, he never actually considered it a possibility. As an elf, it is easy to forget this dark truth looms over all other beings: the inevitable end. The departure of the soul after body and mind had decayed so much, they could no longer sustain that spark of the mystery.
Vincent's case was... different. He didn't die an old man, fulfilling what goals he could in a short-lived life. Vincent died young, with many plans left unfinished. A dreamer whose dreams ended too soon.
This death in particular left a scar in the young kensai. A scar that would never truly heal. A scar that slowly festered and spread, like the dark that slowly fills a room as the sun sets outside, like ink poured into a pitcher of water.
No one seemed to notice. Eon made sure to smile as often as he could, but as the days went by, he grew more and more silent and distant. Eventually, he was rarelly seen around Arandor anymore. After his warden patrol was done for the day, he'd be gone all night, and returned with the sunrise... bloodied and exhausted.
Well, one person noticed. An orc, of all people. The old shamman stared deep into Eon's eyes with her single one, when they stumbled upon one another in Jyn-Pal.
"Dark grows in lat... Always killin', killin'... Years and years, killin', killin'... Dat bad. Elbs be killars", said Old Bones.
Every night he remembered the sentence, as he entered Azamul fortress. Azamul, the demon lord who had taken Vicent's life. Azamul, the object of Eon's revenge.
As the kensai strode through the harrowing halls, fighting the cultists and abominations relentlessly, he tried not to focus on their faces. Some of them were humans, some dwarves and orcs, and many were elves. The aftermath of the Azamul invasions was that the demon lord increased his army and now, in order to fight him, you'd have to accept the possiblity you may run into a familiar face.
That's what Eon feared. To look into their faces and find familiarity. To find Vincent. How many of those mindless followers were once wardens like him?
It had to end. There had to be a way to defeat the demon completely, to prevent his material body from reforming. Maybe if the kensai defeated him many times, Azamul would get weaker and weaker, until one day he becomes unable to return. Maybe... Maybe... Truth is, he didn't know. He leaped forward moved by nothing but impulse, courage and his thirst for revenge.
And that... is how that battle was lost.
"Okay, beast", Eon thought to himself, standing in front of the pool of blood. "Let's destroy you a fourth time and see what happens."
- Come, demon! I'm here for our dance! - the young kensai shouted.
A dark laughter, full of malice, echoed through the chamber. The shadows grew and seemed to flicker. From the pool of blood, a voice replied:
- I have already won, little elf, when I infested that pure heart of yours with the cold taste of vengeance!
As the demon began to rise from the pool of blood, Eon heard a crumbling sound behind him. He turned to find stalagmites and stalactites forming from the ground and the ceiling, like a mouth full of sharp teeth, slowly closing for the bite. It closed his only way out; he was trapped in the belly of the beast.
He turned forward again, quickly, just in time to witness the immense demonic beast rising above him, its intense and hungry stare fixed on the elf.
- You are mine now, little elf!
In the bowels of the earth, deep beneath Azamul fortress, a fight ensued. The echoes of its violence couldn't possibly reach the surface. Eventually the sounds silenced, being replaced by the wailing of the prisoners and the lost souls.
And as the morning came, Eon did not return to Arandor, nor Griggo, his faithful bear. He did not show up for his patrols either, which was very unusual of him. Few people knew of his night ventures... Ruven, the artificer who crafted the demon slaying claw... VelCrow and Nynette, two close friends to Vincent as well... Zeno, a warden friend... and Madasa, who ran into him there a few times... The notion of what he was attempting to do, on his own, might ellucidate a hard solution to the enigma of Eon's disappearance.
Those very close to him would find his house empty, save for the furniture and belongings. The smell of baked goods ever permeating the air...