Gone, but not forgotten..

[Varian]

Dusk, at the shore of the lake, a single silhouette stood in quiet contemplation of memories long since neglected. Until just now, with his eyes closed and as the cool wind whipped the dark cloak about his thin figure; recollection of faces, voices and events had all but slipped away. After so long, it required a small amount of effort to call these thoughts to the surface, so that they might be appreciated once more. Only rarely was this ritual deemed necessary, a subject considered worthy.

At his feet, a white rose drifted upon the water, with the gentle beckon of the ripples the wind had caused. As the flower made its way further across the dark-glass surface, Varian struggled to recall the more fragile details of the woman to which he'd come to pay his final respects.

Like him, she had once been a fixture of a place he'd regarded as his home. What now seemed like shadow of that same domain the two of them, often from opposing angles, had sworn to defend and fought to shape into something prosperous.

Despite the unavoidable reality of his condition, the preternatural disregard for time, there were those few who passed when he did not that stirred an emotion from the depths of a forcefully subdued humanity. For the warrior-mage, Varian hung his head in sorrow and wept as quietly as those angels he knew had received her days before.