It was a gorgeous, picturesque sunset. The sky was a dim orange-red, and the great fiery globe that was the sun was swiftly fading from view. If one were to walk down the beach, one might find any number of things: shells, pebbles; perhaps the occasional crab or two; a flock of seagulls, perchance; just the ordinary scenery, right?

Yet, this sunset, one might see something entirely different. On the horizon, as one looks down the beach, there is a large rock, a boulder, and on top of it, sits a human. Or, so it would appear.

---

Silnimare sat on top of the rock, gazing over the waters, his eyes set on the horizon. Silnimare, while in appearance a man, was only half so. He was what was commonly called a half-dragon, a crossbreed between a human and a dragon. His eyes were red as blood, and his hair whiter than snow. While his gazed was unblinking and focused on the distant horizon, his mind was ever more distant.

Even as the tides ebb and flow in a never-ending cycle, so was life. Or can it be called such? Perhaps existence is the standard. After all, we all die, don't we? Whether by nature, or by an accident, or by the will of others, all die. At least, the flesh will. Spirits go on, and leave a mark. The mark may be a piece of stone, a mound, or simply a memory. Perhaps memory is more powerful than the moment itself...

As Silnimare pondered these things, A small child, barely over five feet tall, walks onto the beach, just behind the boulder where Silnimare is resting. His hair was jet-black, and somewhat short, but his eyes were red as blood. He was a shapeshifter, so his form often changed, but his true form was the one Silnimare was about to see. He had an eerie air about him, and a cheerfully malicious smile.

Vanwe, as the boy was called, then said, "Ah, but some memories, dear father, last for all eternity, don't you think? After all, a moment is only that: a moment. But the bitter pang of guilt, dear father, will haunt you forever."

Hearing the voice of the young child snapped Silnimare back to reality. He was especially startled at the youths phrase, "dear father". Silnimare jumped up into the air, and spun in mid-leap to face the child. Suddenly, when SIlnimare saw the child, he was truly speechless. His skin turned a pasty white, and he said, "No...It can't be...it just can't...my son is dead..."

Vanwe simply laughed maliciously. Then, collecting himself, he bitterly replied, "Dead? Yes, you killed me. But then again, death is far from the end. Some move on, so delay. But others, they return to the realm of life, to do what they were meant to do. I have come back for revenge, and I intend to fulfill that purpose, father."

Vanwe was positively spitting with rage now. "You killed me, father; And then, you ran. You never tried to save me. You left me there, in a mangled body, as my life left me. You never came back to give me a burial. You simply left me to rot, as the birds tore the flesh from my dead body. My spirit was torn painfully from my body, and then I was sent to the place where the murdered souls go.

There I waited, until I was called back by a great and wise individual. His name? He is Mornaug, King of the Dead. He brought me back, so that I could fulfill justice, and avenge my death. He is one of the wisest and most powerful men I have ever known. It is he who helped me to find you."

By now Vanwe was smiling maliciously again, as the thought of his upcoming vengeance filled his mind.

Silnimare stood stunned. Here stood his son, whom he had killed long, long, ago, brought back from the dead, and seeking revenge. He shook his head, and drew a small decorative dagger. With a grim visage, and a cold demeanor, Silnimare said, "Indeed, I did kill you. Yes, I ran away. But I killed you because I had let my rage consume me."

Silnimare now lept off of the rock on which he was standing, sand blowing from the impact. "I cannot take back my crime, but now, things are different. Once, I killed you out of rage. Now, I will kill you out of defense if you attack me."