The Villain's Retirement Plan

The sun was setting as Harris made his way through the village, his path leading to the old road that wound out of Greenhollow and into the hills beyond.

He had a destination in mind—a contact he had not seen in years, someone who had once served him in his previous life. If there were answers to be found about the corruption, this contact might have them. But Harris also knew that reaching out would come at a cost. He glanced back at Greenhollow, his gaze lingering on the village that had become his home.

A pang of longing settled in his chest—he didn't want to leave, not now, but he knew he had no choice.

Memories of their last encounter flashed—harsh words, broken trust. Varian had always pushed boundaries in ways Harris couldn't condone. He remembered Varian urging him to take drastic actions, to wield power without restraint, actions that left others harmed. Reconnecting now felt like opening an old wound, and Harris feared what he might find if those ambitions hadn't faded.

Harris kept his head down, his thoughts heavy. The cobblestones beneath his feet were rough, each step echoing slightly in the quieting village. He hoped to slip away unnoticed.

The fading warmth of the sun touched his back, and the air grew cooler with each passing moment, a reminder of the approaching night. The fewer people who knew where he was going, the better. He couldn’t shake the unease that this journey was bringing back memories of a life he thought he had left behind.

His steps grew slower as he approached the edge of the village, the weight of his decision pressing harder with every step.

The villagers were winding down their day, some returning home while others gathered at the local tavern.

He could hear snippets of conversation as he passed—mundane concerns, the harvest, the weather, children’s mischief. It was all a stark contrast to the darkness that clouded his mind.

As Harris neared the village's edge, he heard footsteps behind him. He tensed, glancing over his shoulder, hoping it was just a villager heading home.

Then a familiar voice called out, stopping him in his tracks.

“Harris! Where are you going?”

He turned to see Liam jogging towards him, concern etched on his face.

Harris forced a smile, though it felt strained. “I thought you were resting,” he said.

Liam shrugged, his eyes narrowing slightly as they fell on Harris’s packed satchel. A sense of unease twisted in his gut—was Harris planning to leave for good? The thought of facing whatever was out there alone filled Liam with a mix of dread and determination.

“I was, but I saw you heading out of the village. What’s going on? Are you leaving?”

Harris sighed, glancing back toward the path ahead. He hesitated, trying to find the right words.

The path ahead felt heavy, his past pulling at him. “I need to find some answers, Liam. About what happened in the forest, about the magic we faced. There’s someone who might know more, but they’re not exactly close by.” He hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. “I wish there was another way, but Varian... he’s the only one who might have the answers we need. And that comes with its own risks.”

Liam frowned, his gaze searching Harris’s face. “And you’re going alone?” The question carried more than just concern—it carried the fear of being left behind, fear of Harris facing something alone that Liam felt he should share.

Harris nodded. “It’s safer that way. The less attention I draw, the better.” Harris felt a pang of unease. What if Varian let something slip about his past, something that would make Liam see him differently? The thought gnawed at him, but he knew he had to keep moving forward.

Liam hesitated, then shook his head firmly. “No way. I’m coming with you. You’re not facing whatever’s out there alone. Not after what we went through. You saved my life, Harris. I owe you, and I won't let you do this by yourself.”

Harris opened his mouth to argue, but the determination in Liam’s eyes stopped him. He could see the loyalty there, the willingness to face whatever dangers lay ahead. Harris knew that arguing with Liam would be futile; once his mind was set, there was no changing it. He also realized that, deep down, he didn’t want to face this alone. Liam had become more than just a guard—he was a friend, someone who understood him in a way few others did. The thought of facing Varian without that support made Harris feel even more vulnerable.

After a moment of silence, Harris sighed. “Alright. But you need to understand, this is dangerous. Varian isn't someone to take lightly, and he represents a part of my past I’ve tried to keep buried. We might be facing people who won’t hesitate to hurt us.”

Liam nodded, hesitating for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. “I understand. I’m still coming.”

Harris could see more than just determination in Liam's eyes—there was something personal there. Liam remembered the time Harris had saved him from a dire situation—stepping in when no one else would. It had been a cold winter night, and Liam was cornered by a group of raiders. Harris had appeared, his power driving them away effortlessly, and since that night, Liam had felt indebted. For Liam, this wasn't just loyalty; it was a debt he felt he needed to repay, and beyond that, it was also about admiration for the man who had shown him strength when he needed it most.

A reluctant smile tugged at Harris’s lips. “Alright then. Let’s go.”

They set off together, the fading light casting long shadows across the village as they left it behind. The road was quiet, the air cool with the promise of nightfall. Harris kept his senses alert, wary of any movement in the woods that lined the path. He knew the people they were seeking might not be friendly, and he couldn’t afford to let his guard down.

As they moved deeper along the road, the silence of the forest around them seemed to grow heavier. The night air was cool against their skin, and the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves filled their senses. Harris’s thoughts drifted, and he glanced over at Liam, the young guard walking beside him, his eyes scanning their surroundings. Every rustle of leaves seemed to carry a hint of threat, and the shadows under the trees shifted, making Harris feel as if they were being watched. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt for dragging Liam along. There was more at stake here than Liam realized, more about Harris’s past that he hadn’t shared. He thought back to the times when Varian had pushed him to embrace power at any cost—like the time Varian had urged him to sacrifice innocent lives to secure greater magical strength. Those memories still haunted him, reminding him of the darkness he had turned away from, and the danger of being tempted back into it. He swallowed the unease, knowing that explanations would have to come eventually.

Suddenly, a rustling noise echoed from the woods, and both men froze. Harris raised a hand, motioning for Liam to stay quiet. Liam's heart pounded, a surge of fear gripping him. The thought of losing Harris, of being alone out here without him, was enough to make his breath catch in his throat. He couldn't let that happen—he wouldn't. The rustling seemed to move between the shadows, the faint crackling of leaves making the darkness feel alive. They waited, their breaths shallow, listening. The sound came again, this time closer—a branch snapping, followed by the subtle shift of leaves. Every muscle in Harris's body tensed, his senses straining to identify the source of the noise. Harris’s heart pounded, but after a tense moment, a small animal darted across the path and disappeared into the underbrush. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Just a rabbit,” Liam whispered, a hint of nervous laughter in his voice.

Harris nodded, but the tension remained. “Let’s keep moving,” he said, his voice low. The interruption had reminded him of just how vulnerable they were out here, and how dangerous this journey could become.

They walked in silence for a while longer, the sounds of the forest surrounding them—rustling leaves, the distant hoot of an owl. Harris glanced at Liam, noticing how the young guard's eyes kept scanning the woods as if searching for unseen dangers. Harris felt a pang of guilt—dragging Liam into this was a risk he wasn't sure he should have taken, but he couldn't deny the comfort of not being alone.

Liam finally broke the silence, his voice low. “Who are we going to see, Harris?”

Harris hesitated, then decided there was no point in hiding the truth. “His name is Varian. He was once... someone who worked for me. A powerful sorcerer, though he chose a different path than I did. He might have information about the old magic we encountered.”

Liam glanced at Harris, curiosity mixed with hesitation in his eyes. “You mean, he was one of your followers?” Liam couldn’t shake the unease—knowing Harris had once commanded someone like Varian brought a heaviness to his thoughts. How could he reconcile the man he trusted now with the one who had held such power? What if Harris was still capable of that kind of darkness? The doubt gnawed at him, making him question just how well he truly knew his friend. The idea troubled him—how could someone like Harris, who had saved his life and shown him kindness, have once commanded power over someone like Varian? Liam knew he needed to understand Harris's past to fully trust him.

Harris felt a flicker of regret at the term. Followers. It was a reminder of the power he had once held, and the mistakes that came with it. He forced himself to nod, pushing down the discomfort that always accompanied thoughts of his past leadership.

Harris nodded. “Yes. Back then, he was loyal but ambitious. He wanted more power than I was willing to give, so when I stepped away from that life, he went his own way. I don’t know if he’ll be willing to help, but it’s our best shot.”

He paused, glancing at Liam. “Varian was always unpredictable. He believed in pushing limits, even if it meant crossing lines I couldn’t. That’s part of why I left, and why I’m cautious now.”

Liam was silent for a moment, then said, “Do you trust him?”

Harris let out a dry chuckle. “Trust is a strong word. I trust that he values knowledge and power above all else. If he thinks helping us will benefit him, he will. If not, well... we’ll have to be careful.” Harris hesitated for a moment, the uncertainty clear in his voice. “Truth be told, I’m not entirely sure how this will go. Varian’s always been unpredictable, and that makes this even more dangerous.”

They continued down the road, the darkness growing deeper as the sun dipped below the horizon. Harris could feel the weight of what lay ahead—the uncertainty, the danger. But he also felt a strange sense of resolve. He wasn’t facing this alone. Liam’s presence beside him was a reminder that he had chosen a different path, one where he didn’t have to bear the burden alone.

After several hours of walking, they reached a small, secluded clearing. In the center stood an old stone structure, half-crumbling and overgrown with ivy. The ivy clung to the stones like fingers, weaving through the cracks and crevices, and the walls bore the marks of age and neglect. The clearing was eerily quiet, the air thick with the scent of moss and earth. Harris paused, his eyes scanning the area, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the evening air. He could feel the weight of the impending meeting pressing on his chest—a part of him hesitated, knowing what facing Varian again could mean. Memories of their last argument echoed in his mind, and fear twisted in his gut. He left that part of his life behind for a reason. Now, he was stepping back into it. There was no turning back.

“This is it,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Liam looked at the structure, a mix of apprehension and curiosity on his face. “This is where he lives?” He tried to keep his voice steady, but the unease in his chest was palpable. Seeing Harris face his past like this made Liam see just how much strength it took to confront what you once were.

Harris nodded. “Varian never liked being too close to people; he values his solitude.”

He stepped forward, approaching the entrance of the structure. The air around them seemed to grow colder, the silence almost unnatural. The shadows seemed to deepen, pressing in on them, and Harris could feel his heartbeat quicken. The heavy wooden door was worn and splintered, its surface scarred by time. Harris raised a hand, knocking on the door, the sound echoing through the clearing and disappearing into the stillness. The sound echoed through the clearing as they waited, the silence stretching on, each second amplifying the tension.

After a long moment, the door creaked open, revealing a tall man with sharp features. His eyes glinted in the dim light, a mix of amusement and calculation. His dark hair was pulled back, and his posture exuded both confidence and an edge of danger. He looked at Harris, a slow smile spreading across his face, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Well, well,” Varian said, his voice smooth but with an edge that hinted at danger. “Look who’s come crawling back. The dark lord himself. Tell me, Harris, do you remember the last time we stood face-to-face like this? You betrayed everything we built and walked away without looking back. And now, here you are.” Varian’s smile widened, his eyes cold, as if testing Harris, deciding whether to help or to toy with him for his own amusement.

Harris met Varian’s gaze, his expression calm, though his chest felt tight. The air seemed to grow colder, the weight of the past pressing down on him. Memories of their last encounter flashed—arguments, bitterness, betrayal. Varian’s words stung because there was truth in them. Walking away hadn't been as clean a break as he wanted to believe. He forced himself to stay composed. “I need your help, Varian. There’s something dangerous happening, and I think you know what it is. The corruption in the forest—it’s connected to old magic. I need to understand how to stop it, and I believe you have the knowledge to help.”

Varian’s smile widened, a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “Dangerous, you say? That does sound intriguing.” Varian’s gaze flicked to Liam. Liam felt a shiver run down his spine under the scrutiny. He knew he was out of his depth—Varian was dangerous, and the power radiating off him was palpable. He glanced at Harris, hoping his friend knew what he was doing. It reminded Liam just how much he still didn't know about Harris's past. “And who’s this? Bringing someone along, Harris? A bit sentimental, isn’t it? Or is he your insurance policy?”

Harris shot a glance at Liam, giving him a slight nod of reassurance. He could sense Varian trying to provoke them, and he wasn't about to let it work. “I remember when you embraced danger without hesitation, Harris. Back then, we shared the same hunger for power, the same disregard for limits.” He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, bitterness creeping into his voice. “You abandoned that ambition, but here you are, asking for my help.” Varian’s smile grew, a mix of nostalgia and mockery. “But tell me, Harris, are you prepared for the consequences? Nothing comes without a cost.”

Harris held Varian's gaze, his expression resolute. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t ready.”

He stepped aside, allowing Harris and Liam to enter. Harris drew in a steadying breath and moved forward despite his doubts. Liam followed close behind.

The door closed with a heavy thud, the sound echoing through the darkened room. The air smelled of old books, dust, and something acrid—like incense or something darker. The chill seeped into their bones, shadows dancing across the stone walls from the flickering light of a lone candle.

Shelves lined the walls, crowded with relics—some gleaming faintly, others shrouded in mystery—adding to the unease that filled the room. Harris could feel the weight of Varian’s presence, knowing that whatever lay ahead would be anything but easy.

With Liam by his side and Varian’s knowledge at their disposal, he was ready to face whatever shadows awaited them.

Varian moved ahead, leading them deeper into the dim room. Harris hesitated, taking in the surroundings before steeling himself and following.

The artifacts lining the shelves were symbols of power Varian had collected over the years. Ancient runes, dark relics, and objects from their past—each told a story. Harris remembered finding one of these together—a staff with engravings Varian had eagerly wanted to use, regardless of the danger. It reminded Harris that Varian hadn’t changed—he still craved power, and Harris had to tread carefully.