The End of an Era

From Reydala

Dante ab Llew, the Lion of Joven, founder of the demon hunting agency Hellhounds for Hire, Elder of Joven, was a very old man.

This thought occured to him while he was laying in bed, waiting for his children to come to his side. He'd lived for 110 years, now, and though he didn't physically look a day over 23, he was feeling every single one of his years this night. He reached a hand to scratch absent-midedly at the beard on his face, white as his hair, as he glanced out his bedside window.

Joven had definitely changed since he'd left, back when he was a 16-year-old kid. Where once had been several rather crude huts and meandering pathways, now stood grand buildings were connected by paved roads lined with oil lamps. The dinky little wooden dock where the fishermen caught a few fish on a good day was now a major port, and foreigners arrived and left every day; some to trade in the local seafood which a majority of the world now considered a delicacy, some to study the Jovenites' fighting arts, some simply to sightsee where one of the Legendary Heroes came from.

Dante smirked as his red eyes came across a massive statue of himself, in the city square. Though its back was to him, every detail was etched firmly in his mind, as he spent a good week posing for the artists who eventually carved it. They made reference sketching after reference sketching, making sure to capture every minutia of his aspect. The end result was a grand statue 30 feet high at the center of town, arms crossed, weight shifted just so, with a face that contained every bit of the model's own pride, strength, and just plain cockiness. It was a fair likeness, if he said so himself.

The door to his rather plain room opened, and the Elder turned his head away from the window as his family entered. First came his ever-faithful wife, lovely Mayuka, a tall elven lady he met during the first year he and Wren started Hellhounds. Her eyes were shining with tears, but she wouldn't let them shed. Following his wife were his two sons; Ezekiel and Virgil. Though they were both in their 80's, they also appeared to be in their early 20's, physically; the combination of their mother's elven blood and their father's demonic heritage appeared to have manifested itself in them sharing their father's nigh-perpetual youth. His white hair and red eyes also bred true, though Dante was always privately thankful that the purple glyphs which had marred his skin for most of his life had never manifested on them.

In fact, were it not for the glyphs that marked his demonic blood, Dante and his sons appeared more like brothers than they did father and sons, which was always a source of amusement for the tight-knit family. When exasperated, Mayuka would often say that she had three children. Dante would flash his cocky grin, though, and things would invariably be fine once again.

Virgil closed the door behind himself, Dante's younger son always having a mind for such things that others often overlooked. The room was silent for a moment, before Dante finally waved a hand and spoke. "Well, sit down. We don't have much time."

His wife took a seat on their bed, pivoting her body protectively around her husband, as their children pulled chairs from across the room to Dante's bedside. Ezekiel spoke up, "Father, tell us what you want. I was in the middle of a job when I got your message."

Dante sat up, shifting in bed so that he was resting against the headboard. "Well, the long and short of it is, I'm done."

Ezekiel tilted his head. "'Done?'"

Mayuka nodded, the tears still in her eyes but her voice level. "Your father's body has worn out, Ezekiel. He...won't be around, much longer."

Dante's eldest son snorted. "Worn out? You look healthier than I do, Dad."

Dante shrugged. "I dunno what to tell you. It's true; the doctors say I've only got..." The Elder narrowed his eyes as he tilted his head back, calculating. "A couple more days, now? Enough time to do one or two more errands."

"Oh, my God, Dad...I'm so sorry."

Dante laughed. "Kid, there's nothing to be sorry over. I honestly never thought I'd live as long as I have, especially not with these." He lifted a hand in front of his face, the dull purple markings patterned in exacting detail. Even after all they decades they'd been there, they hadn't faded; the lines still looked as clear as they had the first day they'd appeared. "Fact of the matter is, I've had a long and happy life, and I'm not really afraid of what's coming next. There's no need to be sorry," Dante looked fondly at his wife, "Or sad, either. But there are a couple of things that I need to tell the two of you kids."

Ezekiel crossed his legs in his chair, resting his chin in a cupped hand as he focused intently on his father's every word. The normally silent Virgil, who had known about his father's condition, straightened in his chair as he prepared to take in his father's last will.

"First, Ezekiel. I left you in charge of Hellhounds for Hire back when I retired, and told you to run it however you saw fit. Well, the business is offically yours, now."

The demon hunter's eyes widened. "Dad..."

Dante raised a finger to silence his son, simultaneously gesturing to a chest on the floor. "Along with a couple more things. In there is my old Hunting coat, the red one you always thought was so cool." He grinned. "The very same one that also shifts into wings. I figured it'd help you out. Also, my old eyepatch is in there. Make sure you hold onto that: it'll allow you to see things that are invisible, and see through disguises."

Ezekiel was stunned into silence from his father's gifts. After he mumbled a "thank you," Dante turned his attention to his younger son. "Virgil. I named you after my own father. While we didn't always get along, he was one of the wisest men I ever knew. I think you inherited that wisdom, even though he wasn't strictly related to me by blood. I've talked with the other elders, and they agree; you're going to replace me as the Head of Joven."

Dante's laconic son blinked in surprise. "Are you certain, father? I've never even served on the council."

"Like Hell you haven't. You and me both know that over the past decade, I never would have been able to do this job without your help. Both you and your mother kept me level-headed over decisions that ordinarily I would have over-reacted to, and made the wrong call. You're absolutely perfect for the job." Dante paused. "Also...I want you to have this."

Dante ducked his head, and removed an old lion pendant from around his neck. He extended his hand to his younger son, holding it. "Something you boys didn't know about me; when I was very young, I joined a pirate crew. Eventually, the captain died, and I became the new one. I got this pendant shortly after that." He paused again. "I've worn this almost every day of my life since then. It's always made me feel...stronger, and braver. Your name is 'ab Llew,' 'of the Lion.' I hope this pendant helps to give you courage during the tough times, the same as it did for me."

Virgil nodded solemnly, taking the pendant and placing it around his own neck. He immediately did feel a change as it made contact with his skin. "...Thank you, father."

Dante closed his eyes and leaned back against the headboard, exhausted. It wouldn't be long, now. "Two more things. First, my swords..." Dante opened his eyes again and reached in the crevice between his bed and wall, withdrawing two swords. The first was ridiculously long, nearly six feet in length. The other seemed positively ancient. "I know it's tradition to be entombed with my swords...but honestly, that's stupid. You two will need my blades in this world more than I will. I had copies made to satisfy the townsfolk, but the real blades will go to you two."

Dante extended the massive sword to Ezekiel. "Ezekiel, this sword belonged to my brother. He...gave it to me after he died, back when I was fighting Laviege." Both Ezekiel and Virgil nodded; they had heard about it before, both from their father and from their Aunt Wren. "It has never failed me on all the hunts that I'd gone on, and I know it'll help keep you safe."

Dante then turned to Virgil, and gave the other sword to him. "Virgil, this sword is a symbol of Joven; it belonged to my grandfather. The pride, the strength, the honor of all Jovenites over the past 200 years is in that blade. It's only fitting that you have it."

Once more his children thanked their father, and he continued. "One last thing. I know I told you to run your affairs as you see fit, but this is one thing that I will demand of the two of you. If you ever come across a Wavereader, or a Gaelnic, or a Shadowgleam, or an Elensar, or an Algiz..."

Virgil interrupted, "The rest of the Legendary Heroes?"

Dante nodded. "Or their families. If ever either of you come across them, help them. Not everyone is as strong as us, and we have a responsibility to defend those who are weaker than us." Dante grinned. "Even if they don't think they need it."

His children promised, and Dante nodded. He leaned back against the headboard again, and suddenly felt bemused. "I love all three of you very much. You've all made my life what it is."

He could hear his family talking, but the words didn't seem to have any meaning, for some reason. His head turned once again to look out the window, and he could see the sun beginning to peek over the horizon. It spoke of the promise of a new tomorrow, of everything that was good and right and pure in the world. A breeze filled his nostrils as the oil lamps began to go out, and his life passed before his eyes; growing up in the tiny village, running away so he wouldn't be forced to fight against his will, meeting his friends, the endless and perpetual arguments, the fateful day they all stood against Laviege. He remembered everything that happened afterwards; meeting Mayuka, the births of his children, the death of his father, Wren leaving, hearing that Kaer had died.

As the events of the past century seemed to take place in the span of a heartbeat, Dante was surprised to find that overall he was content. "This is good...isn't it?"

The warrior's piercing red eyes closed, and at long last, he was at rest.