Disclaimer: Baldur's Gate and it's sequels, along with the characters Valen and Rose (and others who will appear later) are property of Bioware and Wizards of the Coast.
The plot, the Circle of Shadows, and all other associated characters are mine, however.
Chapter 3 - Shadowchild
Faces swirled before her, some she knew, some she did not... A white-haired girl with golden eyes and the scent of death... a beautiful woman with fine-boned features, noble-pale skin and blackest hair... the slaver-lord Lehtinan... the beautiful, sylvan dark priestess who raised her... the goddess and the masked lord... a horrid spider-centaur... a strange woman who looked like Valen might, if she were older and crippled... voluptuous flax-haired Rose, speaking of oak bark and death... places barely believed in, and safe homes filled with terror for the unwary... a myriad of images and thoughts and possibilities, the reflections of truth and lies that dwell in deepest shadow...
Valen felt her eyes crack open, revealing an ochre-stone ceiling. She turned her head, looking sideways at the candles on the wall and the shadows they cast. Groaning, she sat up. Her clothes were gone, as was her equipment, and she wore nothing but a knee-length black robe. She hadn't seen one in this style since...
"So... even after everything, I ended back here..." she muttered, swinging her legs over the side of the padded stone slab she lay upon and running a hand through her lank hair. The cold of the underground shrine seemed warm after steeping so long in endless shadow, and the robe was more than adequate for modesty and warmth.
"You had a close shave. I'm glad. You drained the torc too much; it didn't have the power to get you out of Shadow as well as into it." The woman who entered the secret shrine's small infirmary spoke with a musical voice that hinted at mysteries unknowable. Valen looked up at her, and couldn't help but stare at the high priestess of shar once more. In the eight years since Valen had left the shrine, Navarra hadn't changed in the slightest. From her finely sculpted elven features to her star-white hair and forest-green eyes to the beautiful, shining-scaled moth wings, decorated by patterns of writhing shadow that stretched from her mixed-blood shoulders, the half-fey star elf was still as beautiful and unblemished as the first day Valen had seen her.
"M... mistress Darkwind. Forgive me." Valen bowed her head quickly as she realised she was staring.
"There is nothing to forgive. You have admitted your ties to the dark lady by completing the job, and have spent time communing with her essence. Even to me, the return of a lost daughter is something to be celebrated. A mere extension of power to retrieve you when your communion threatened to absorb you is little enough to pay to see you returned to us." The shadow-adepts' forehead creased in a frown, then. "You are returning to us, yes? Your masked lord forsook you, but the keeper of secrets extended her arm to keep you safe. You have had time to consider your folly."
"I saw 'im, in me dream..." Valen responded slowly. "I dun... what 'appened to the statues?"
"They are safe. You may take the Bane statue back to your slaver if you wish. We wish only to protect our mistress' interests, after all." The elf smiled a small smile, and Valen nodded.
"Wha's so special 'bout them two statues?" the thief asked, but the arcane devotee shook her head.
"That is a secret." the immortal winked, her voice playful suddenly. Navarra's mood-swings could be dangerous, Valen remembered suddenly, especially when she started to get mischievous.
"Ya mean like the fact yer eight 'undred an' sixty four, e'en though ya look shy a'hundred twenty?" Valen returned, matching her grin.
"Who told you that?" The priestess scowled, fingering the cufflink on her left wrist.
"Uh... lucky guess?" Valen stuttered, and Navarra smirked.
"You'll have to do better than that, young lady. Did you read my diary before you left, all those years ago?"
"'Course not! I jus' promise not to tell!" Valen retorted, and the half-fey stopped playing with the cufflink, folding her arms instead and raising an eyebrow.
"It was Ilena, wasn't it? You know you can't hide anything from your mother." Navarra replied, patiently.
"I aint going t'say. Foster-mother or no, the shrine children dun betray each other. E'en if they's not children any more. That was the rule... remember?"
"Well, that's true. I'm glad."
"Er... wait, what?" Valen blinked, stammering.
"That you consider yourself one of them still. When I founded this shrine two hundred years ago, I never hoped to instil such loyalty, especially not in someone who already betrayed us once." Navarra smiled, sitting on one of the other beds and smoothing her robe - a slightly more elaborate version of what Valen herself wore - across her thighs.
"I left, but I never betrayed you. Nor'd Rose - Sharandra. Aint no-one e'en 'spects the shrine might exist. We protected you."
"Rose? Is that what she's calling herself now? Interesting that she chose that path. When you leave, you should tell her that our arms are still open. She could benefit from my knowledge. I suppose that imparting a few secrets might be worthwhile in return for the occasional service."
"You'd let me.. leave?" Valen blinked. "But... I thought from what you said... you want me to stay here, in the shrine again."
"Of course I would love to have you living here with us, but you've shown that you're trustworthy. You're of an age now that you can go through your ritual. You could be one of us in full. You would have nothing to fear from Lehtinan or the Shadow Thieves if you accepted her sigil, you know. It doesn't even mean that you have to be a cleric."
"Ritual? Sigil? I... I dun unnerstand. I got a bit mem'ry about something to do with a ritual that some of the older orphans wen' through, but..."
"The ritual of adulthood. It binds a part of shadow into you, extending the Goddess' protection over you while you yet live."
"In't that dange'rous? What 'appens if somethin' goes wrong, or..?" Valen shivered, remembering the deadly cold of the shadow-place and trying to imagine a part of that inside her.
"The worthy may lose themselves, yes. There is no shame in becoming one with shadow, however. To many, it is the intended result. I am one of the few who believe that the ritual is designed to strengthen Her earthly agents rather than enumerate her ephemeral hordes, however. You are strong, and you have far more worldly experience than most. You will assuredly survive, Valen." The fey reached over and stroked her cheek tenderly. "I do care for all my children, even the wayward ones."
"Thank you, shadowmistress... I... I'd forgot, when I left. All I thought of were freedom and me own path... but the shadows were always there fer me."
"I know, child. I know. Come, and eat. There are some you must meet, though you really must do something about this horrible way of talking you have acquired." Navarra stood, offering Valen her hand, and the thief took it to follow her out of the infirmary and into the corridor. As they walked, Valen scarcely had to look to recognise the surrounds for they had not changed in eight years, seemingly as constant as their warden. The underground complex was much larger than anyone who had not seen it would give credit to being possible, stretching for almost a mile under the temple district as it did.
Presently, they came to the dining hall. Navarra lead her around through a hidden passage to the dais entrance she always appeared from before pushing the curtain aside to lead Valen through. As the thief entered behind her, all sound in the hall stopped. Apparently it was a mealtime, for some thirty children ranging in age from four to fourteen, as well as six or seven adults were seated at long trestle tables eating what appeared to be some kind of gruel or porridge. From memory, Valen knew that it was somehow manufactured from smuggled ingredients from the world above, and the taste varied from mealtime to mealtime. For all it looked the same, it wasn't bad stuff.
"Good evening, my children." Navarra said into the quiet, and a few of the younger ones chorused a reply. The older ones, however, were far more interested in Valen. "This is my daughter, Valen. She has been away from us for some time, but has returned to us now. Please, make her welcome."
She motioned for Valen to find a seat before taking her place on the dais to eat her own meal. It was the same gruel everyone ate, but somehow it always looked more appetising in the high priestess' bowl.
Valen scanned the room for a moment before moving solemnly over to an empty place where two of the younger adults had squished up. With dignified solitude, she stepped over the bench and sank into her seat, watching as an invisible servant placed a bowl in front of her before slowly turning to look at the girl next to her.
"Ilena, pass the salt?" She asked, completely deadpan as though she had not been gone for eight years. The nineteen-year-old half-elf kept a straight face for all of ten seconds before bringing out a huge grin and a chuckle.
"Of course. Where's Sharandra, she not back with you?" Ilena frowned as she passed the earthenware bowl over.
"Nah. Workin' the bridge, liftin' 'er skirts." Valen didn't notice the half-elf's incredulous look as she studied the white grains as she dumped a half-handful into her porridge. "Ah, I aint 'ad salt fer years!" she grinned after mixing it in and taking a spoonful.
"Shy little Sharandra, working as a streetwalker? You're joking, right?"
"Nope. Sure as shadow is dark. Calling herself Rose now. Got a license and everythin'."
"Crazy..." Ilena shook her head. "What about you? Still nicking stuff?"
"Always. Other peoples' purse strings are my own. Easy. You get your mark, you flick your wrist, and that's all there is to it."
"Hah. Well, luck with that - or are you going to turn priestess like Karen here?" Ilena gestured to the girl sitting on the other side of her, and Valen looked over surprised.
"Kar? I didn't recognise you! Ya've changed a bunch. Used ta always chop your hair right off, never put you as a red." Valen grinned, and Karenya shrugged.
"It is not a good colour for sneaking, and I always did want to be a thief. That was before She called me, though. Now... nothing is the same. You have been well?"
"Ya, but I feel so dumb now. Ya all are talkin' so nice, an' I soun' like a gutter rat."
"You are a gutter rat, Valen, and you always will be." A seventeen-year-old boy with brown hair had wandered over after finishing, and Valen realised that she was the only one still eating. Even so, she tilted back on the bench to look up at him.
"Aw, yer stil pissy over that ammy? That was years ago, Char!"
"Pssh. First I find out that mother is a pansy magic-user, now I see she's calling lifters her daughter? She'll be done soon."
"We're all her daughters, Rechar. Even you." Valen told him, and was answered by sniggers from the other two. For his part, the assassin fair turned purple before growling and stomping off.
"I have wanted to say something like that for a very long time." Ilena shook her head as Valen gulped down the last of her gruel. "Anyway. I had better be going. Lady Vasz is taking me shadowhopping."
"You're learning to Dance?" Valen asked, surprised, and the urban ranger nodded. "Wow. Coming to it late much?"
"Not really. If Lady Vasz can learn it at eighty, I can manage at nineteen. Besides, I've been taking lessons for two years now. See what you missed?"
"Ow, yeah. Still glad I left though."
"Of course you are..." Ilena muttered, rolling her eyes as she left. Karenya stood up a moment later.
"You should talk with mother about taking the ritual. It is worthwhile." she murmured before moving away.
"Will do..."
