Sleep lulled to Armnis, calling to him promises of rest and relaxation. Like a vieled serpent, coiling him into it's ploys and coaxing the elf to let sleep cradle his mind and open his thoughts to the vast impossibilities of dreams. Tonight sleep was a temptress, a hidden Succubus with a wicked grin. There would be no rest for Armnis- and the visions of dreas would hold no comfort.

His grandmother, so very graceful, beautiful, and wise, smiled down to him. He looked back with wide eyes, shinning orbs of expression that could not be quenched.

"Show me another, Grandmother! I can learn another!"

"Ah child, you study so quickly! But always remember to practice the basics. That's what is truely important in your wizardry." Her hand softly patted his. Those hands that weaved intricate enchantments and formed delicate pattterns of magicks only seemed to intice the boy and make him eager for the next lesson. As for students, one could not ask for better. He truely did love his Art and his sharp mind absorbed any information that was given. Sometimes Talia would be caught offguard by his knowledge, noting that he learned from her even when she was not teaching but practicing her own Arts. The young Armnis grabbed her hand in return, and as he did he found himself in awe by the contrast of their skin tones. She was a Drow, her dark onyx skin in stark contrast to his own light tone. His grandmother, Talia, also noticed this difference.

Armnis... does the fact that I'm a Drow bother you?" she asked, concern flowing in her voice and reflected by her own eyes of crystal blue.

No, Grandma!" He looked up, a smile on his face. "I like it! It means that you're really something special."

Talia looked taken back, a smile spreading on her face as she glowed softly. "That is precisely what your Grandfather said..." her voice trailed off, leaving the more romantic details of that memory to herself. "Alright little one! You've earned it. Go get your spellbook and we'll start to scribe your next spell..."

Armnis stood upon the hill that overlooked the city of Silvermoon. Years aged and matured, he now looked down upon the city with a smile and fond memories. This hill, too, was dear to him. It was here that he learned much of his swordplay, and how to breath magical energies. Fitting that now he waited on that hilltop for Wynd- his newfound child romance. Taking a deep breath, he filled his lungs with the joy of youth. The sun set softly, casting everything in a warm glow. The wind was brisk, sweeping over the land. Something was amiss, however- the feel of the wind that whipped around him, the tingle of energies dancing over his skin. Then the Darkness erupted, like a seething fire negative energies washed over the city, circling around it. Black flames burst from the inside, the ground rumbling as surges of power quaked from underneath. The low, distant wails carried to Armnis' ears as tears streaked over his face. "NO!" his mind shouted as he ran forward, drawing his sword. The sky painted crimson and black, his vision blurred from tears, all Armnis could see was the destruction of everything he held dear. His body trembled and quaked, his legs giving in and collapsing underneath him. Weeping, stretching out his arms was all he could do- the lost feeling of helplessness had consumed him. The world melted away as the screams of his loved ones and the horrible presence of the darkness welled around him.

"Armnis Nivrumix Thallas" the voice called from outside, dripping with murder. He knew that voice and terror gripped him as he sat with his wife and newborn child. Standing with a grim mask, Armnis grabbed his sword which hung above the mantle.

"Darling, take Shay and get out of here. I will find you when it's safe." Then, turning to leave, he gave his wife a look of everlasting love and a silent goodbye. "No one calls me Nivrumix anymore... No one except him..."

Outside, a figure drapped in shadows stood beside a disembodied head of a Shadow Dragon. The Dragon was Nivrumix... and the figure could be none other than the one who destroyed his homeland all those years ago. Rage burned within Armnis as he dashed forward, drawing his blade to meet his foe in a deadly lock- a final clash that would end this struggle once and for all. A smile spread over his advisary's face as his own steel rose in answer to Armnis' charge...

His body aching and drenched in sweat, Armnis snapped awake. He was home, his wife safely beside him. His grandmother's amulet glowed, brighter than the moonlight that drifted in...