“Why does it always rain at funerals?” This question ran through Velverin’s head as he took another sip from the wine bottle in his hand. It was already his sixth or seventh bottle that day and it was still early in the morning. Lucky for him next to him was a tree that helped him to stay on his legs. A few hundred feet away, he barely saw his friends Grandur und Dalarion standing at the grave site. If it was due to the alcohol or the rain he could no longer say. A few other people were there as well. Vel wasn’t sure if knew them or not, some seemed familiar. A priest of Kelemvor oversaw the rites and spoke his prayers. Grandur waved at Velverin to come closer but he ignored it. He was too absorbed in self-pity and wine. So he didn’t even notice the figure coming from behind. “Oh brother, what has become of you? If I cared about you, I’d say you need help. Yet, we both know that would be a lie. Seeing you in this dreadful state I am not even going to offer you a way out. It would be too good for you now.” The voice belonged to Velverin’s brother Ranaghar. Like a snake he moved around the drunken drow, playing with a dagger in his hands. “I had hoped you gave me more of a challenge. Especially since you escaped certain death and managed to stay hidden for so long. You even found yourself a little new family. What was she? Please, tell me that I killed your wife. Uh, was she even pregnant? Did I kill a little nephew or niece? By the abyss, brother, say something. A monologue is boring!” No matter what his older brother tried Velverin didn’t show any reaction than drinking from his bottle. Hoping this was just a drunken dream. It wasn’t. “Leave me alone or kill me! Whatever it is you want to do just get on with it. I am sick of playing games.” To his brother’s surprise Velverin seemed to sober up from one moment to the next. The uncoordinated strike with the empty bottle showed, however, the truth. It didn’t take much effort from Ranaghar to avoid the blow. “Fine! I’ll leave you alone for now. Seeing you in all this misery is a pleasure. Our sister wants you dead. She believes you are a threat to her plans within our new house. But I know you are not a threat. If you were you would already trying to get revenge. I don’t know what happened to you after our little coup d'état but it clearly broke you and with that little accident over there I’ve put the final nail in your coffin.” With a mix of disappointment and annoyance Ranaghar turned away before any of the guests could notice him. Of course, for him it would have been better to kill his little brother on the spot. But Ranaghar liked to play the long game and maybe in the future his little brother might become the right piece on the board to accomplish his own plans. The alcohol finally brought Velverin down. Even with his grip on a lower branch of the tree he couldn’t stand any longer. The ceremony was over and the guests walked past him. Some gave him their condolences other gave him a look a disapproval for his behaviour. Grandur was offering him some help and said something; his mind could no longer comprehend. He shoved the Dwarf away, making it clear he wanted to be alone. His friend followed his wish with a sad face. All alone on the graveyard Velverin stumbled his way to the fresh grave. While it happened the situation changed. The graveyard was gone. Only darkness and the grave remained. Also it became clear to him, that this was no longer a memory he lived through. Velverin had experienced it a lot of times the past days and week. So he was not surprised when the voices were starting to fill the void, followed by scenes and pictures from the past. A little red-haired half-elven girl smiled at him. As she grew older her face got more and more blurred until he didn’t saw any features of it. His damaged brain started to put Drev’nae’s face in at certain points. But he knew this was wrong and as soon as it appeared it blurred out again. The scenes itself showed how the two lived together. Apparently, Velverin took the girl in, after her parents were killed. He recalled it was the same girl he had already rescued once. The voices in the background called him Big Brother. The voices as well as the scenes were cheerful, sad, angry, younger and older. As the years in them changed, it more and more seemed that the girl took care of Velverin instead of the other way around. He saw moments that didn’t make him proud. And then there was her end. “Don’t look, lad. Please, let Dal and I handle it!” It was Grandur’s voice in the back as the scene changed to showing a broken body in the middle of the streets. It looked like she was run over by a carriage. It was not a pretty sight. The whispers in the back claimed it to be an accident. The run over was just a cover for his brother. He knew that now. No guard would look deeper into it, especially to help a Drow. He might have been accepted but it was she the people liked not him. And except Grandur and Dalarion no one would have done him any favours at that time. And then there was the grave in the darkness. Slowly Velverin turned to it and walked closer. On the stone there was no name other than the Kilsek family name. Behind him, he felt another presence approaching. Vel didn’t turn around; he already knew who it was. “What’s her name?” It was his own voice asking. Letters started to appear on the gravestone as his mind again wanted to substitute. He used his hand to wash away what was about to appear. Neither was he ready to see it nor did he want to see it, ever. “I don’t know!” he whispered. “What’s her name?” The question came again and again; turning louder and louder every time the words were spoken until the whole place was echoing with this question. Velverin rose up his hands to cover his ears and desperately screaming: “I DON’T KNOW!” as he rose from his trance.
