What could three decades have done to you? You are wiser, stronger, a tad bit more realistic than we used to. Perhaps two decades ago one would dream of becoming a knight or marrying a princess.
A decade ago, one would think of family and who to spend the last few decades of your life with. Competition will always be there to motivate you to progress even further than before.
If you do your best, excel in what you did. Be a the best version of yourself, things should surely fall into place. And they did. A friend and a future wife.
What comes after was out of his control. A precious gem such as this one to be born in an unfortunate circumstances, a dying bloodline. Should he blame fate for putting him in such position ?
He was once an optimistic man. An opportunist, with a silver tongue. A talented young man that knew well of his skills, strengths, and weaknesses. That was him no longer.
Nobody lives for love. Power, fame, money. The world of magi taught him to be cruel. But he has none to blame but himself. And so he went away, knowing that love was never there for him. Perhaps something else can be his goal.
Just like all great magus was prone to live a life of solitude. What could three decades have done to you? Nothing. Everything. Remaining untouched like the day she left the young man. Not worn down nor battle ruined. As if time stopped just like his heart decades ago.
Her grave, cried her lover. But Darnic felt nothing. Even four decades later, from the first time they met, three decades of not seeing her face, and now, a decade later with a bouquet of violets on his hand. Pristine and youthful just like the days spent together.
Her lover would ask how. How is he still alive ? How is he remained youthful. Like Dorian Gray's curse. Perhaps there was a painting of him somewhere, ugly and cold. Darnic turned into a man described only in fiction.
Placing the flower on her grave, he bid his first and only love goodbye. Leaving her husband in tears and consternation. So what could three decades have done to you? A new goal, a new life perhaps.
One stained in blood of himself an another. As one matures, so does their cruel heart.
He was merely shaped the way he was meant to be. For nobody had proved him wrong, only mold him further into such being. What could three decades have done to you? Nothing. Perhaps everything.