Fanfic Warning: This is one of three vignettes I wrote about my main character in the original Guild Wars. Part one can be found here. Part three will drop later this week.
Ravious Pretagata sat on the steps leading to the scrying pool centered in the great Hall of Monuments. It was the only warm place left in the massive Eye of the North. He was alone except for the rainbow phoenix that had chosen to reside in the Hall. Ravious had forgot when the great bird had entered, but he had chosen to leave it alone in any case. The lively plumage of the bird subtly contrasted the Hall’s testament to the dead.
He felt the soft steady hum of power emanating from the Monument of Honor standing on the other side of the pool. In his life Ravious had received innumerable titles from gods, kings, scholars, and others. He had forgotten most of the honors by now, yet they were all etched irreparably in to the Monument if he wished to remember them. His gaze swept across the other monuments with old armors, statues of friends, and ancient weapons.
The world was retreating away from the necromancer too quickly. Humans had long left the Eye of the North having been recalled by their liege for some final battle. The giant norn had drifted away in response, never liking the Hall much to begin with. Not even the native centaur tribes bothered anymore to enter the valley where the megalithic structure was located. Ravious had traveled back to civilization occasionally to help with the creation of the knowledge-filled Durmand Priory and meet with foreign leaders, but he always felt the call of the Eye of the North pull him back to solace.
Even as one of the greatest wonders of Tyria, the Eye’s origins were unknown. Some scholarly papers treated it as being a structure standing outside of time, and others postulated that the interior of the Hall of Monuments had become its own seamless pocket dimension. Yet, knowledge about the existence of the massive structure brought scant few to the doorstep. Ravious had hosted a rare scholar or adventurous visitor after the humans left, none in recent years, and those that had stayed the night usually left the next morning mumbling about visions or nightmares.
The necromancer’s dreams always felt like nightmares. They portended monstrous change in the future or echoed one from the past. He knew that he had slain the mad god Abaddon, but he often dreamed of a world in torment where the fallen god ruled. Ravious also saw the future where there would be no peace. The energy that changed the future felt raw, twisted, and unfathomable. There would be no lack of conflict anywhere. These visions strained the human’s soul until it felt thin and stretched.
It didn’t matter anymore. The gods, even Grenth, had fallen silent a long time ago. Ravious’s friends and companions were mostly dead and buried, some making their small mark in the Hall of Monuments as well. The necromancer’s knowledge of death had given the man an incredibly long life, well past the normal human lifespan. And, he was tired. There was plenty to do, and yet nothing that Ravious had the will for.
He looked up at the inhuman statue facing him at the Monument of Honor. It had never reminded Ravious of anything before except some stylized angelic armor. Yet now he swore he saw likeness of the skull-faced Grenth. It was nice to see his old friend, the god of death.
The phoenix gave a low cry, as it usually did, in the silent Hall. It apparently was not concerned with the body slumping over the edge of the scrying pool. It ruffled its wings as the lights began to dim in the Hall. They would remain dim and respectful for a long time.