This fanfic is based right before the Hunters Blades trilogy, and is from the POV of Artemis Enteri. I had done this fanfic once before, ages ago, before I'd even read the Legacy of The Drow, but then I lost the first chapter. Do'H! So I decided to re-do it... In a slightly better style... At a slightly different point in time. Also, I'm crap when it comes to updates... so... uh... don't expect a lot of them.
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Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Forgotten Realms. Perhaps someday I will write my own FR book, and then I will, but that possible time is in the distant future... VERY distant future... And either way, I will never ever own anything of R.A. Salvatore's. He's just too brilliant for me to own anything of his.
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Point Of View
Chapter One
Smoke and Mirrors.
It's not that I agree with him... Oh no, far from it. But rather... Maybe he wasn't entirely wrong. When I was in Menzoberranzen, I looked into a mirror, and what I saw wasn't exactly pleasant. When I first met him in battle, he was the first to even come close to being my equal. And yet, still, he had that level of spirituality, and yes, even basic emotion, that I lacked. Later he proved that he was my equal, and more. Every time there has been a true conclusion to one of our many battles, it has always been he that has won. No longer do I deny that the battles were fair. They were as fair as any battle I have ever fought against a teacher, or even against a soon-to-be victim of my blades. It was simply the outcome that I thought was un-fair. And yes, even now I still think that. Why should I have been forced to give up so much to achieve what he has proven can be achieved without sacrificing anything? Perhaps it was simply the area I trained in. There were no friends for me there, and as my skills grew, and I surpassed my teachers, even they began to turn on me. Drizzt always had so much more than I ever did, and still, so much less. I believe that, had I thought to try, I could have found friends, but I never saw the point. Drizzt was born into a world where he had no such options. And yet, he was born into a world where he had allies from the start. His own father was much akin to him, or so my new traveling companion claims. "A man of great skills, and a sense of right and wrong far beyond that of most Drow. He was surpassed by one, and one alone. His own son, Drizzt Do'Urden." This simple statement worries me even more then Drizzt himself did. For you see, while the son had the father for support, the father had nobody. And yes, the father was an equally respected swordsman. Two elves was all it took to shatter the pedestal on which I had placed myself. I denied it at first, but I can no longer do that. He is better then me. I admit it. Never again can I claim to be the greatest swordsman ever known. Never again will I have my name whispered in the streets of Calimport as the only undefeated fighter, and the greatest assassin in the world. For I have been bested, and they know it. So I travel with Jarlaxle now. Hoping that no one will draw blades against us, for though I still can fight, the desire to do so is almost completely gone. It is silly I know. I have fought, and lost, for the first time. Should that really drop me so low? But it is more then that. I have fought and lost, and in losing, not only was I left with physical pain, but a mental one as well. Everything I ever thought I knew, everything I had discarded, all the time I spent perfecting my art, every kill I made without even batting an eye, all of it was for nothing. Because, I am not perfect. I don't know anything. I threw my life away for nothing. My almost religious belief that emotions are meaningless, and that sheer skill is the only path to achieve anything, has been turned from a brick wall into smoke. And now I have no hope of building it again by defeating him. Still, I go on. I have not completely given up yet. I am still skilled, far more then many others in the world, and although that no longer satisfies me, for now it will do, as it has for so many years. Perhaps there is something else in the world that can take the place of my pedestal, but I doubt it. I will not lower myself to a higher power, a so-called 'god', in an attempt to raise myself up as Cadderly, and so many other "goodly" priests do. 'Nor will I allow myself to fall into the trap of a sentient object to achieve my goals as Jarlaxle did. And I will certainly not follow the path of righteousness and justice as Drizzt did, and in such take comfort that I am doing the "right thing". As it is, I see nothing that appeals to me to replace my pedestal. And so I will travel, and live my life as, when, and how the fates decide. I will allow the world to take me for the unfeeling, albeit highly skilled, man that I am, and do with me as it will. And perhaps one day I will find my pedestal again in something else. Something that is meaningful to me. Until that day comes, I will continue to live my life in the shadows. For mine is the way of the assassin. And that is the way of smoke and mirrors.
–Artemis Entreri