Soul Taker
"Then this is farewell."
"F-f-for now. J-Jaheira and I f-feel we need some t-time alone. Y-you are grown now and have your own d-destiny a-ahead of you. W-we will never for-forget what you've done."
The half elven warrior laid a surprisingly strong hand on my shoulder and looked me straight in the eye.
"Gorion would be pr-proud of you."
I acknowledged it with a dip of my head; there was nothing left to say. I gripped his lithe forearm and he squeezed. It meant more than I could say. To my right, Imoen was embracing Jaheira, and I caught a snatch of their exchange. "Don't weep child."
"I'm not," Imoen dashed her fist against her eyes. Another fierce hug followed, then steadying herself, Jaheira stepped back and nodded to the young woman. Khalid and I both smiled at them. Jaheira glared, then softened. Imoen half turned, then threw herself at Khalid, who caught her more gently she expected. I watched, acknowledging that they were as much family to her as I.
Since their initial meeting a day after Gorion's fall, they had journeyed together until Irenicus – now Joneleth – separated them. Struck down, Khalid suffered a terrible fate. Hovering between live and death, he floated within a jar. Time lost all meaning for him. Though we escaped Irenicus' compound, we had failed to find Khalid and Dynaheir, another of Imoen's companions. It was all we could do to free Jaheira, and Minsc, Dynaheir's protector. I, myself, was drugged addled and only dimly recall our flight to the surface. There we came face to face with our captor, only for Imoen to be taken from me again.
In the midst of a horrific battle, Irenicus spat destruction, his magicks all but unstoppable. Ensuing chaos followed and I remember only Imoen trying to protect me. When I came to days later, I found myself amongst two of the warriors that had aided my sister half a year before against our brother Sarevok Anchev. Now the tyrant was dead, slain at Imoen's hand, and a new threat assailed us. Together we sought Imoen, gaining friends and allies along the way, including her lover Edwin Odesseiron, a wizard of no small prowess.
Eventually we found her, trapped on an isolated isle and held captive by Irenicus who had claimed it as his own. Though we stormed the asylum and rescued her, we arrived too late; Irenicus had what he wanted: her soul. Defeated but not overcome, all we had done was driven the mage back. His retreat tolled a hollow victory, but it had proven he was mortal. We had Imoen back, but at a cost: she was dying.
Not knowing her husband's fate and unable to move on, Jaheria had given up all hope of ever seeing him again. The full cruelty of our captor became apparent when we pursued his sister and henchwoman, the vampiress Bodhi, who held in possession Imoen's soul. We were greeted by the sight of Khalid and Dynaheir entombed in jars, bait to lure us out. They set upon their former companions while I found myself victim to Bodhi's final kiss. Her fangs could not prevail against my divinity, but neither was I left unscathed. My own soul was taken from me; Irenicus' true gambit. Forced to slay her husband, and Minsc his witch, we had recovered Imoen's soul at a terrible price. We could not save those we loved; to have found and lost… whether it was for revenge, or whether it was because I was dying and had no choice, we set off after Irenicus.
The mage had returned home, to the city of his birth. Suldanessellar. Once, he had tried to ascend to godhood, and for his pains, was stripped of his soul. Banished from his homeland, he had slowly deteriorated, fading, dying as I had begun to. Bodhi had shared his punishment and exile, though not his ideals. Seeing his people weakening, he had sacrificed everything to defend them including their most sacred laws. All that was left was for him to die, and visit revenge upon those who had betrayed him: his people and his gods.
At the heart of the city stood a great tree, the so-called 'tree of life'. Seeking to consume its power for his own and destroy his gods, Irenicus began to siphon it while his allies wreaked destruction throughout his former home. Before his dark magicks finished their work, I, now fully transformed, sank my fangs into the Tree. The exchange that followed altered our fates forever.
Held to ransom, the elven gods were forced to hear my words. My soul was restored, and in exchange I returned what was taken from my captor: his soul. With its return, Irenicus ceased to be, and the elf once known as 'Joneleth' stood in his place. Irenicus was my foe, not Joneleth, and in returning him, I had separated myself from the rest of my kindred. The Tree proved its name, and its gift of mercy left all of us, even the gods, in wonder. From the dust Khalid and Dynaheir had been reduced to following their destruction, they were renewed, restored.
Now… we were parting ways.
"We have not forgotten our oath, child. If you ever have need of us…" Jaheira's words were reinforced by her tight enfold; rarely affectionate, she was never one to show or even admit weakness. Her tawny eyes held a faint sheen of mist. From the first she had watched over me, a 'mother hawk' as Edwin had once sarcastically described. I could ask for no better guardian, no better guide. She had taught me herblore and much of life. I owed her my life more times than I cared to count; I'll never know why she was so fond of me. Of Imoen, I could understand; only one without a heart could abhor her. My sister adored Jaheira and Khalid; while I floated in a tank, she would tell me of them, and the love, awe and wonder in her tone warmed me towards the pair more than anything else they could have done.
I met Jaheria's gaze, and understanding passed between us.
"You've grown." The respect she held for me spoke more than words ever could. "Perhaps it is time…" She shook her head, a wry note touching her, "You have restored my Khalid to me, and I can never thank you enough."
"You don't have to."
She nodded slowly, then chuckled, "Aye, any more than you need thank us." Then she kissed me, her gaze strangely distant. I frowned. As I raised my hand to my brow, she smiled, "You don't remember, do you? I guess you were too young."
"You held me," I found my words echoed from another time, another place, "and kissed me… right there."
"You do remember." Her smile was like the sun, "Khalid and I visited Gorion after… you were still a babe. Imoen too."
I closed my eyes. When I opened them, they were dry. "I won't forget." I was no longer talking about being held; I meant everything, including Aliana's sacrifice. Jaheira had reminded me why we were here, the cost of it. She didn't need to speak. In that moment, I realised just how much I would miss her, how much I had come to rely on her, on Khalid. It had been less than a month since his resurrection, but already I valued his wisdom, his strength.
From the side, Imoen caught my eye, or perhaps I caught hers; whatever the case, we both understood. It was time.
"Wh-when this is ov-over…"
"We'll find you." My quiet conviction startled me, and Imoen's fierce nod followed it. I smiled at her, and she at me. We knew what had to be done, and this time we had each other.
"C-coming, my dear?"
Jaheria rolled her eyes, then took her husband's arm. "You two behave yourselves," she warned us sternly, then smiled, "though Silvanus knows why."
Imoen laughed, "We'll visit soon; I've always wanted to be an aunt!"
Khalid and I exchanged somewhat startled looks; then he glanced guiltily at Jaheira and laughed sheepishly. The latter shook her head. Then they were gone.
"So… what now, little brother?" Both of us stared at the spot they occupied, and their path into the forest. She nudged my arm.
"We finish this." I replied simply. For a second she hesitated, then nodded with grim determination. "Together."
"Always," she leaned over and pressed her cold nose to my cheek; I ignored it. "Yer no fun."
"I know." Then I grinned, "Come on, the day's a-wastin'."
She stuck her tongue out at me.
We both knew where we were headed: the stones. Unknown in origin, they were older than the elves that had first found and claimed them, when the forest was still young. Ellesime, the elf queen, had suggested we consult them. A waste of time as far as I was concerned, but Imoen was curious, and when her curiosity was invoked, little would dissuade her. I knew a lost cause when I saw one, so I chose to humour her.
Edwin waited on ahead; though the two half elves had accepted him, and he begrudgingly them, they had never truly got along. Of all our companions, he alone remained. Minsc and Dynaheir had returned to Rashemen, their homeland, and I suspect Imoen was all that was prevented Edwin from leaving for his own home in Thay. While Imoen was fond of both Minsc and Dynaheir, I knew she found the latter hard to cope with at times. If Edwin was to be believed, the witch had proposed to him, despite their respective lands being ancient foes. He had declined her suit, but I suspected there was more to the story. As for my part, I acknowledged Dynaheir's regard, but she remained cool to me. Though Imoen had spoken endlessly of me, Dynaheir still did not know me for herself, despite my role in her resurrection. Like Khalid, she needed time, and though Minsc was torn, I would not deny her. We had parted on good terms, and Minsc had declared that all would know of the heroes that accompanied him and Boo.
I still don't know how that orange rat he insists is a hamster survived Irenicus' compound. It chirped its own farewell, and for the life of me, I can't work out if the thing was just reacting to Minsc's bellowing, or if it was genuinely intelligent. Edwin commented that they probably heard Minsc in Baldur's Gate. I even agreed with him.
Waving to him, Imoen ran on ahead, and embarrassing both Edwin and me, greeted him with a long, passionate kiss. I had since grown used to her blatant shows of affection, and her tongue spoke words that only Edwin could hear. I suspect that had he not been so dignified and impressed with himself, she wouldn't have demonstrated her love quite so openly, or often. He offered me a slight shrug over her shoulders, but wore a particularly smug and self-satisfied look. I ignored it.
While Imoen linked hands with the Thayan, she waited impatiently for me to catch up, and as soon as I had, snatched my hand up, positioning herself firmly between us. I wasn't sure whether to shake my head or sigh; Edwin acknowledged this with a helpless look, and it was my turn to shrug with my eyes. Despite her ordeal, Imoen was, as ever, herself. If anything, what she suffered at Irenicus' hands made her more determined to live life to the full. She never spoke of it, but we had grown closer for it. When I closed my eyes, I could still feel her nearby, sensing her presence before she ever found me. I knew she did the same.
She turned and smiled up at me in mute understanding. Whatever thoughts she courted, she always seemed to know mine. I had given too much of our sire's essence to her for her not to know, but even before that, she read me more readily than an open book. When my soul was taken, she returned all I had given her and more, sustaining me as I had her. I found myself squeezing her fingers; she squeezed back.
As we approached the stones, my thoughts turned grim. I recalled all we had fought for, those we had lost, those we had saved, and the destruction we had wrought, the destruction wrought because of us, in spite of us, and the lives we had been unable to save.
I thought of the gnolls, xvarts, sirines and winter wolves I had made my own, at first compelling, then befriending them. I thought of Bear, once worshiped by the xvarts as guardian of their village. 'Ursa', they called him. I thought of Sil, the queen of the sirine tribe, of the xvart shaman, the xvart princess, and the four sirines who had grown so close to me. I thought of Laurel. She… more than anyone else I regretted losing. It was because of her I had to press on, because I had not been strong enough to save her. She was a paladin, a paragon of compassion, of virtue, of justice. She alone had seen what I was and sought to save me, even before I sought to save myself. A stranger, she had taught me that I was more than just a monster.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"That's for broodin'." Imoen's jab shattered my thoughts, pulling me from my reverie. Then more quietly, she added, "She wouldn't want yer to."
I nodded slowly, sighed and sighed again. Imoen was right, of course. Laurel had been a mortal; she would not wish to be apotheosised. I hesitated in my thoughts. No, there were others who cared for me. Aerie, the elf, whose wings had been broken, then torn from her, worshipped me. Not only did she venerate me, but she adored me. The temples could not – or would not – restore her wings, and yet I somehow had. She and Korgan had travelled back to Nalia's keep. From what I understood, Aerie would take the role of the De'Arnise family priest. Korgan would train their soldiers, and the dragon Firkraag would serve and defend Nalia's lands. With Gerran, her uncle, and Iltha, her cousin, living with her perhaps the rift would be reconciled. Not only between Firkraag, Iltha and Gerran, but also between Gerran and his wife, Nalia's aunt. Of Squire Delryn, a would-be knight of the same order as Laurel, I knew little. I know only I had cautioned Nalia not to wed him, but whether she would heed my words, I cannot say. Perhaps she still held out hope I would someday return to her.
I cast a glance at Edwin; the mage was humming to himself, and smiling. He seemed completely oblivious to it, but Imoen basked in his cheer. She had had fancies before, but never had I seen her so full of life. A bittersweet envy-joy rose up in me. I was happy for her, for them both, but I still felt a dull ache in my own heart. Would I ever know that same delight? That warmth; that lightness in my step? I smiled in spite of myself. I could never begrudge her this.
We reached the stones.
