Venibeth Stokes

Last Chance Disappointment

“Yes, I saw him.” the frail night elf murmured. “But not… after… no I didn’t see him after.”

Venibeth’s hopeful expression faltered, “Where exactly did you see him?”

“He kept going back in. He would bring someone out and then go back. I think… four, five times? And then there was a rumble and it all came down.” the woman paused and took a sip of water, “I’m always so thirsty now, and everything tastes like ash.” she took another drink then set the glass aside, “I didn’t see him after that. But I wouldn’t expect to. Nothing could have made it out alive.”

The mage let out a small gasp, gulping in air in an effort to quell the tears that trembled on her lashes. Of course he would go back. It’s what he did… She reached out and squeezed the woman’s hand, “Thank you for your time. I hope you’re better soon.”

She made her way slowly through Stormwind, leaving the refugee camp behind. She walked past the pumpkin patch, the great orange gourds unnoticed, as was the lake and the children running by.

Of course he would go back. He always thought of other people. Other people besides his family. How could he risk his life like that when he had two small children at home? How could he give up everything for a bunch of strangers? How dare he abandon them that way? How dare he abandon her?

The sorrow that had been her constant companion was drown in anger. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms, her body trembling as every emotion, every ounce of hope was swallowed up in a flood of rage. She raised her hands, flames dancing dangerously around her fingers, she drew her arm back, ready to hurl the fireball away from her. And then she stopped.

Fire had destroyed Teldrassil. Fire had taken her brother. Fire had nearly destroyed their home. And fire had taken Riley from her, taken him from his children.

She shook her hand as if stung and the flames flickered out. Just like the plans they’d had for the future, it wavered and died; nothing left but a small plume of smoke. She breathed deeply, and brushed a strand of dark hair from her face.

The night elf and worgen officials who were overseeing the recovery of Teldrassil had already listed Riley as deceased along with hundreds of others. They had told her there was no way anyone could survive the smoke and flames but Veni had clutched hope to her like a talisman, certain that he would rise from the ashes and come home. They were bureaucrats, they hadn’t been there, what did they know?

But the woman she’d spoken to had been there, had seen Riley, had all but watched him die. That was it, the last hope of his survival dashed to pieces. He wasn’t coming back.

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply and reminding herself that the world was different now, her life was different now. And it was then that she flipped the switch. She couldn’t spend countless hours grieving, she had children to care for, and she was the only one to do it.

He was dead and life required all her attention now.