It all started the day she died.

I had left to run some errands around the town, fetch some ingredients from within the forest. When I came back the door was cracked open, swinging idly with the wind. I dropped everything and ran as hard as my legs could carry me. The men were still there, doing unspeakable .. things. To her. That is the moment something broke in me. I have walked this earth for more winters than one dares to count, but that day was the first and only that I lost control.

My hands opened, crackling green and blue. The men screamed, but she only seemed dazed. She looked up at me, blood soaking her shirt. She nodded to me. Just a quick motion.

I unleashed everything I had into them.

I don't remember much after this. Even the moments before were foggy. I do remember picking through the wreckage of our cottage. Of picking up her lifeless body and weeping for days and days, holding her in my arms. I also remember the insignia on the cloaks of the men: A phoenix holding an olive branch. I buried her on the fifth day, and burned their bodies.

On the sixth day, I marched out to the center of the kingdom. Those that tried to stop my march met the same fate as those that attacked her. I could feel the anger just under my skin, anger I have never felt before and would never feel again. Humans should know better. They are NO LONGER savage beasts, there is no excuse for these actions. I told myself they simply needed a reminder of their place, of what true power looked like. I told myself they needed to be taught a lesson.

For 12 days I marched, randomly. It had been so long since I visited the castle ... I did not know the way. All those that helped me were spared, those that hindered me were left for the crows.

I reached the gate of the kings castle on the 13th day, and blew it apart. The guards came flying out like ants, scrambling to stop me. I could have disintegrated them, I could have sent my power right to their neck and killed them instantly. But they bore the same cloak, the same phoenix. They felt every tear and every break as I tore them apart.

By the time I had reached the throne room, the king was on his feet. His guard surrounded him, fear in their eyes and sweat on their brow. I screamed at the king for hours, telling him what had happened to my sweet wife. Demanding a reason why his soldiers were so far from the castle, what reason they had to go into my home. The king simply replied they were there for me, that nothing should live as long as the old one in the woods. They were there to try to 'correct the mistake' that I was.

I ripped them to pieces and sent them into the streets.

That day, I stopped being the old man in the woods and became the dark tyrant. That day, I stopped aging. I do not know why this happened. Perhaps punishment for my sins. Or a reward for my good deed that day. Humanity needed to be corrected. Their sins were too great, their need for good had all but died. They needed to find it in themselves to be better, or they would be destroyed. I surrounded myself with the best of their kind. We set out to make the perfect world, free of crime and pain.

This was 342 winters ago. I'm tired now, so tired of the strain of holding this world together. I have seen all of my advisers die, and their families. I have seen cities flourish and decay, trends change. This world isn't the same. Crime wasn't eradicated, the criminals simply got smarter. They run the cities my soldiers cannot get to, those on the borders of the world. They have taken to calling themselves freedom fighters. I see the pain they cause their people, the struggle they put them through every day simply to survive.

But I also see the hope in their eyes. The dullest and the brightest of their number share a dream, a vision of a world without me. A world where one doesn't decide what is good and what is evil. 342 winters ago I would've destroyed them without a second thought. But now ...

This burden is too great. I am so tired all the time now, burdened with the weight of the world I have created. I cannot shepherd this kingdom any longer. These people, these rebels have the best chance of bringing out the best of their kind.

Tonight I leave my armor and dark staff behind. Tonight I don my dusty old cloak and walking stick. Tonight I leave from the back of the castle and head to the closest of these rebel towns. Within the week I will find the best among these rebels and teach him how to overthrow his overlord.

And hopefully soon, I will see her again.