Velentham stood in the center of the plains and let out a loud yell of anger. What had happened? Everything was fine for so long. He hadn't had a problem or a care in the world. Years prior, his father brought him to this plane, it soothed him yet he was still close enough to go forth and battle the evil that swarmed near the Nine Hells and Gehenna. He would let out his anger and return. Then he met Sanria. He fell in love with her, he touched her heart, she made him feel whole. Then came all the others - and Gilean.
Velentham took out his sword and with a howl of anger, sliced through the tall grasses, felling them easily. Gilean Eosos. Son of a traitor, still a traitor, a man who didn't know his place. He would learn.
Velentham bent space within the plane and arrived at Gilean's side, looking as though he was ready for battle. "You're not worth it."
"Just what are you planning then?" Gilean asked, rising from the grass.
Velentham crossed the distance, his face pinched with rage. "By the Gods, would that I could run you through and ensure you'd never return."
"I hope that someday you can be more accepting of others' viewpoints."
Immediately, Velentham drew back his free fist. He would smash Gilean's face in if nothing else. He would teach him a lesson. Before he could, from nowhere, Telfenham's hand wrapped tightly about his son's fist. "No, Velentham. This will solve nothing."
"He's not worth it, father. You can't go through with this."
"That is for me to decide. My choice - and his."
Velentham snatched his hand from his father and glared at Gilean. The hatred ran like ice through his veins. 'Go, Velentham,' his father telepathed. 'You are doing nothing here but attempting to cause strife. If you harm him, no good will be done. You will have your way, even if I may not agree.' Velentham vanished with a huff.
