His entrance had been like all the others this day. A few shouts of hatred, some of respect, and one from his apprentice, beckoning Vistilantus to meet with him in the Coven House. With a slight nod his shadow dragon lept towards the sky and moments later he blessed Arcadain with his presence. He had been beckoned to look at an ancient scroll which Arcadain had found. After an odd look from Arcadain he turned his attention to the scroll on the table and began skimming through it. Not a moment after he reached the end of the scroll did two demons leap from the shadows and grab his arms. With a smirk he turned his head towards his apprentice. "You can't be serious child. What is the meaning of this?" But Arcadain gave no response, and pulled a white pearl ring from his pouch and walked swiftly towards Vistilantus. But, Vistilantus was always prepared for such situations, and with a whispered word the demons fell into dust. But alas, Vistilantus had trained Arcadain only too well, and a third demon lept from the shadows and pinned Vistilantus to the ground. Quickly he placed the ring on Vistilantus' finger and stood back...waiting... "Gwindle" he thought, but he peered around and she wasn't there. Standing only a few feet away was a cloaked elf, with a curious and somewhat hesitant look on his face. Memories came slowly seeping back into his mind. "You...you were my apprentice...?". He fumbled through the words. What was he doing with an apprentice? And where was Gwindle? He fingered the pearl engagement ring on his finger. She had to be around somewhere. "Yes, was your apprentice. My apprenticeship under you is now complete." Slowly a painful memory pushed it's way foward. "Gwindle...she's dead?" and as he spoke the words more memories came flooding forth, uncontrollable, unstoppable. A floodgate of emotional pain had just broken and he was standing in it's way, about to feel the impact. "I've killed..." "What of their familes?" "I've wronged you too Cynthor?" What seemed like hundreds of people started shouting at him. Accusing shouts, telling him of his wrongs, he couldn't be forgived. They hated him, but what had he done? He killed innocents? How many? Why? He tried apologizing for them, for what he had done...and then the impact hit. Hundreds, no, Thousands of tortured souls screaming in unison. Their hate, their pain all filling his head at once. The pain, it was unbearable. He looked at his hands only to be struck by the impact once again. They were decayed...he was dead... Blood spilled from his scalp as he tried claw out the memories. The anguish was was unbearable as all the souls slaughtered by his hand sought their revenge upon his mind. He shouted out for mercy to anyone that would listen. One answered his call. Fjorgynn...