A.N. The way the ending of NWN2 and the start of MotB was dealt with always felt like a massive cop-out to me. It pissed me off that you don't really get the opportunity to get angry about the fact that your fairytale ending was swiped away at the last second in favour of another random campaign, and that all the characters you'd spent ages building relationships with just got killed off like it didn't matter. But, well, I've never had much respect for cannon...
Chapter 29
It took me a while to realise I was conscious, and another while yet to realise what that meant.
I was alive.
My memories were still hazy and my head pounded like I'd fallen asleep in a barrel of 10-year-old whiskey, but I remembered my last thoughts being those of regret, of sadness that my final moments on this earth would be filled with pain and bloodshed. Not that my situation had improved much since I was knocked out however long ago. Every shallow breath I took burnt my lungs, and I still couldn't bring myself to open my eyes. I felt cold, but not like I was outside, more like the feeling of being in the Keep's basement on a brisk, winter night. Everything ached. I didn't think I could eat the amount I wanted to vomit. I was on my front, with my cheek pressed against something hold and hard. Stone, I thought.
Judging from my body's protest at the slightest movement, I imagined I must have been there for some time. Either that, or I'd been beaten to a bloody pulp and not given a chance to recover. I supposed both wouldn't have been out of the question, given my luck.
With a rush, I remembered what I'd been doing. The King of Shadows had fallen, and we'd had to get out of the Illefarn ruins in Merdelain. I'd limped, trying to ignore the pain, until I'd known I couldn't stay awake any longer, and I'd collapsed...
Casavir! He'd been helping me escape, and he must have caught me when I fell. Did that mean he was here? In whatever personal Hell I'd conjured up for myself?
I tried to speak, to call his name, but no sound came out except a dull, scratchy croak. He wouldn't have just left me like this, so either he was injured himself, or I was lost. Or...
Or he was dead.
I refused to believe it. Paladins didn't lie, and if I'd made it out alive, then he must have done. The odds that one or both of us could have survived that encounter were too small to be worth calculating. But then, Fortune didn't much care for her uptight sister, Probability. Such was life. At least it was for me. I thought at the very least I'd wake up cosy in an infirmary bed, with one or two of my companions by my side, ready to announce my miraculous recovery to the masses, who would then thank me for giving up the last few years of my life and probably several pints of blood just so they could continue to live another day. And then I would kiss my knight – after I'd had a wash, of course – and tell him what was in my heart, and we'd go to Neverwinter, where—
I stopped myself. Such thoughts did nothing but heighten the deep sense of emptiness I felt burrowing within my chest.
I braced my hands against the stone and tried to push myself off, my lungs gasping in protest at the sudden movement, and the release of pressure was almost painful as I peeled my chest from the ground. I wasn't wearing my armour. Instead, I had on a loose tunic that I didn't think was mine, and the same breeches I'd found on my floor on that dreamy morning when I'd woken up in his arms. The thought would have made me smile, had my stomach not chosen that moment to retch up its contents. My stomach rippled painfully, and burning liquid forced its way up my throat as my eyes opened in shock. There was nothing solid for me to vomit, but apparently my body didn't care. I couldn't remember the last time I ate. Maybe that was why I felt so lightheaded?
I lifted my head and looked around the room. I was in a small, circular chamber, with earthen walls and a stone floor painted in glyphs and symbols, illuminated by the same unearthly light that pulsed through the walls. They looked Illefarn, though seeing as my knowledge of ancient Faerûnian civilizations was based entirely on necessity, that wasn't saying much. But, it let me tell myself the comforting lie that I was probably still in Meredelain where I'd fallen, despite all evidence to the contrary. Maybe I'd been thrown here by an explosion, or the floor caving in? That wouldn't explain why my armour had gone, where this tunic came from, or why my chest felt like it had been hacked open with a rusty dagger, but it was a way to rationalise the situation and stall the panic that was brewing in my plundered stomach.
I tried to push myself up further but was forced back down as though there were ropes holding me in place. I grit my teeth. If I'd fought tooth and nail through an army of undead just to end up a prisoner, I wasn't sure what I'd do. My stomach had calmed, though my chest was still cramping up as I lay back down on the rough, rune-scarred stone to catch my breath. I felt pathetic and weak, limp as a wet leaf and sweating like I had a fever.
Someone better have a good explanation for this.
"I'm here," said a light, feminine voice somewhere to my right, "Lie still."
Well, I was never one for doing what I was told. I heaved against my invisible bonds once again, and felt the pain coursing through my chest as I managed to roll myself over.
"I said lie still!" the voice came again, its owner rushing closer and crouching next to me, "Or you'll bleed to death. Here, I have a bandage."
I lifted my weary eyes to the stranger's face, and took in her bald head covered in tattoos, the concerned slant to her eyes, and the vibrant red of her robes.
"Th...the hell're you?" I croaked, my voice and my limbs rusty from lack of use. The woman frowned and performed some complex dance with her hands. There was a moment, and somehow I knew the bonds keeping me to the ground were gone. Quickly and clinically she unbuttoned the front of my tunic but kept my breasts covered, sucking her breath in through her teeth as she looked at me.
"My name is Safiya, and you're lucky I came when I did." Working dextrously, she fashioned a rough bandage over the wound I apparently had, but hadn't seen yet. "This stitching is hopeless...I've seen better work on golems. We can get you fixed up when we're out of here."
"St...stitching?" I groaned, lifting my fingers to feel the wound, but she pushed back my hands and looked at me sternly.
"Yes, stitching, most likely to hold together that horrific gash you've got running down your chest." Her voice was annoyed, but I didn't care. I felt after the night I'd had, I deserved a few answers. The significance of the wound caused dread to ripple up to my throat, and suddenly I knew the shard in my chest was gone. That was the strange, empty feeling I'd had since I'd woken, and that was why my ribs were burning so intensely. I looked up into Safiya's eyes. They were sincere enough, but I didn't want to trust her with the details yet.
"But...after the battle," I coughed, still not used to speaking, "I don't remember...anything. If I got stitched up...how come...I still hurt so bad? And...who the hell...left me...here?"
"You don't know?" She sounded puzzled, which worried me. "Surely if someone trapped you here, cut you open, then you would know..." she trailed off as I turned and pushed myself off the ground and onto my feet, where I wobbled for a moment before managing to balance shakily. My hair was matted against my scalp with dried blood and sweat. Safiya stood to face me, barely an inch or two shorter than I was. And then I noticed I wasn't wearing any shoes, and that the front of my tunic still hung limply between my breasts. I buttoned it back up with stiff fingers. "But you don't know, do you? Then I can understand your confusion, I—I mean, it must be very disorienting." I barked a short, angry laugh as I tested out my tender limbs.
"You could...say that." My voice was still ragged, but at least my body was waking up. "Now...if you don't know...who did this...could you at least...be kind enough...to tell me where I am?" Baby steps, I thought. I'd figure out where I was first, and then I'd figure out how to get back to the Keep, and then I'd think about who Safiya was or how she found me or how I got here. That was the way...
"We're in a barrow, deep beneath the soil of Rasheman," she replied calmly. The breath caught in my throat and I felt like I'd been punched in the gut.
"Ra....Rasheman?" I whispered, racking my brains for a handy map of Faerûn. "But that's...that's leagues from the...the Sword Coast! It doesn't...doesn't make any sense..."
"Look, I don't know how you got here," Safiya started again, her eyes pleading though her tone was level, "but I'm here to take you to someone who might. She can give us both some answers if you'll just come with me. For the moment haste is all that matters. We have to get out of here before the spirits awaken."
"Where's Casavir?" I demanded, praying she'd give me an answer.
"Who?" My heart sank. "Look, I wasn't even told your name, let alone anything about how you got here or who you were with."
"Then...what...what did they tell you?"
"There isn't time!" she snapped. Her voice wasn't well suited to anger, and she just ended up sounding frustrated, "We have to get out of here, and we have to do it now! Please, you have to trust me."
"Trust you?" I croaked incredulously, "I've been beaten, cut, and sewn back up....dumped in a cave in the middle of nowhere, and...and you're telling me to trust the first person that comes along? Aren't you a Red Wizard?" I asked finally, remembering why her attire had struck me in the first place. She bristled at my question, and lifted her head proudly.
"Yes, I am, but you would do well to remember that not all of us are alike," Her eyes narrowed, and it was then that I remembered why Red Wizards were feared, "More to the point, if I'd meant you harm, I assure you we wouldn't be having this conversation. I don't know why I was asked to find you, just that you'd be here, you'd be hurt, and you'd want answers. If you still want to spit on the only help you'll get in this Barrow, I'll warn you now that the spirits won't let you go without a fight." I could tell she was getting irritated, but I didn't much care. I'd bet good money that she hadn't just been through two years of constant fighting only to just be eviscerated and left in a pit, with all hope of a bright, peaceful future ripped from her grasp.
"But...but..." I found that I didn't know what to say. I was so overwhealmed with questions I wanted to ask her that I couldn't speak. Rebelling against my instinct to shun her help and find my own way out, I decided to take what she said at face value. When we got out of here, when I was patched up enough to think straight, then maybe I could demand some answers. Until then, I decided, I'd let her lead on. "Fine," I said at last, "I'll go with you...at least 'til we're out of here."
"Then that's all I ask," she replied. Her voice, and her words, reminded me instantly of Shandra, and I felt a jolt in my heart for the woman I'd let die. She fished into a pouch at her belt and pulled out a thin flask filled with a dark green liquid. "Drink this. It'll help."
I greedily uncorked and gulped down the healing potion, biting back a moan of pleasure as the aches and pains were washed away. It couldn't replace natural sleep, or indeed the months of rest I'd promised myself once the King of Shadows was dead, but it was something.
"Here," Safiya spoke suddenly, producing a short blade from her belt. "It's not much, but it's better than nothing. I don't have any armour, I'm afraid, but my spells can protect you to an extent." I took the blade gratefully, noticing that it was well balanced and razor sharp, despite its size.
"Thank you," I said quietly, pushing aside the fog that crowded my head and trying to ignore the hunger that gnawed at my belly. "Don't suppose you've got any bread in that pouch of yours, do you?" She shook her head.
"Only spell components. We'll see about some food when we get to the playhouse." Now that was a new development – what playhouse? I warred between wanting to find out, and not having much will to speak or ask questions. The latter won, and, with a nod, I let her lead on in relative silence.
And then, Kaji came out, and my headache fell upon me all over again.
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"And what the hell was that?" I screamed, turning to Safiya with my eyes aflame. The memory of what I'd done to that spirit wolf played itself back to me. I'd lost control of myself, I'd let that thing take over, and I could feel what I'd done. I'd consumed her soul like it was a morsel of food, and I hated my body for betraying me in such a hideous way. "What did I do to her? What was that thing?"
"I don't know!" She snapped back, bristling, "It didn't look like a spell or a divine invocation. There was something...in you..."
"What aren't you telling me?" I demanded. I didn't know if she had any answers or not, but at this point I'd take a comforting lie over the confused, conflicting feelings warring in my mind. If I concentrated I could almost feel Nakata's final thoughts bouncing around my head.
"I don't know!" She replied, annunciating her words carefully. "Whatever you did, you destroyed that spirit before it had a chance to destroy you, and you've healed whatever wounds you had left, so I'd say you should count yourself lucky." I'd barely noticed that my wounds had gone, and it filled me with even more disgust.
"I just sucked that spirit's soul out." I forced myself to remain calm. "And I don't know how I did it."
"Neither do I," Safiya assured me, "but Lienna will. And when we see her we'll get some answers, not before."
Suddenly, a great wave of homesickness washed over me. I felt tears pricking at my eyes, and, more than anything, I wanted Casavir to appear from around the next corner and tell me it was all some horrible dream, and he was here to escort me home. I didn't care about Lienna or Safiya or any of these new, strange people who'd somehow put me in this situation. I just...I just wanted the idealistic little fantasy I'd created for myself to come true. I gritted my teeth and moved towards the small hole in the wall leading upwards and, hopefully, out of this hellish place.
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After what felt like an eternity, Okku's spirit and those of his companions had been dispersed. The two of us – three if Kaji counted – fled from the barrow and broke into the patch of sunlight through the canopy of trees all around. I braced myself against the sudden light and squinted until my eyes adjusted. My breath was still shallow, and my lungs ached. The loss of the shard within me coupled with the hunger I couldn't identify had become a palpable force, and I felt sick to my stomach. After the encounter with Nakata, the fight with Okku and the memory of his words to me, I could be sure of precisely one thing – I wasn't going to stick around and wait for things to go from bad to worse.
"Mulsantir is not far from here," Safiya started before I had a chance to speak. "How are you feeling? I have another potion in my bag if you need it,"
"How d'you think I feel?" I replied, more aggressively than I'd meant, "I've been taken from my home only to have the shard in my chest stolen by someone who I'm sure – just like you – only meant well, and dumped in a stinking barrow full of rabid ghosts! On top of that, I'm either possessed or have some kind of disease that eats spirits like a gods-damned vampire! Now you'll excuse me if I don't feel like heading off with you when you've only given me more questions than answers."
"Please, just listen—"
"No, you listen, Safiya, I'm sure you're a real delight to be around, I'm sure whoever did this to me and whoever got you to find me is very important, and I'm sure they've got a whole list of real interesting reasons why they had to use me like they did, but fuck this! I'm going home! I don't care if there's some gods-damned village with a kobold infestation or some evil warlord or any other reason to keep me around, I'm done with this! I'm done with being some fuckin' heroine who gets all the work and none'a the rewards!"
"You don't understand," she started again, her eyes narrowing. I had a feeling she wasn't used to begging, but I was far beyond caring.
"I understand perfectly, I just don't care!" I cried, my voice reaching a hysterical pitch, "I've done all this! I fought the big, bad enemy, and I won! I should be back in my Keep right now, reaping the benefits of being a fuckin' Knight-Captain of Neverwinter who's just pulled off an impossible victory! I don't care what fate thinks I should do. I'm not just gonna lie back and take it, I'm getting my happily-ever-fuckin'-after whether the gods like it or not!" With these final words I turned on my heel and stalked off between the trees in the direction of the setting sun.
"Are you insane? You can't just leave!"
"Watch me!" I shot back over my shoulder.
"You don't even know the way," she said levelly, daring me to object.
"Then I'll walk until I hit the sea, and I'll figure it out from there."
"But...but it's months of travel to Neverwinter!"
"Lucky for me I haven't got some stupid, gods-damned quest to go on, ain't it?" I knew I was being childish, but I didn't care. I felt entitled to something beyond being dropped in the middle of another epic adventure.
"You'll die before you get there! What you did to Nakata...it'll happen again."
That made me stop in my tracks. I turned to face her, noting that she'd barely advanced a few steps. Her chin was still lifted defiantly.
"What do you know about that?" I asked neutrally.
"Nothing, but Lienna will. She's an associate of my mother. I've never met her, never even heard of her until I was tasked to bring you to her." Some of the tension leaked from her body, but I could see she was forcing herself to remain calm. She was probably wondering what in the hells she'd done to deserve this. Funnily enough, I was thinking the same thing. "I want answers too, Evelyn. Whoever Lienna is, we'll soon find out what she knows. Even if you don't care, you won't make it more than a few leagues in your condition. Look, we'll go to Mulsantir. There you can get some rest and talk to Lienna. After that, I don't care what you do. If you still want to go home, you can get a horse or send a message. Just...please, you must know it's ridiculous for you to try to go all the way to Neverwinter like this!"
Of course I knew it was ridiculous. I just wanted to be home so badly I didn't care how I got there. Her words were too reasonable to argue with, though, and I found myself starting to walk back towards her even before I'd made my mind up.
"Fine," I muttered tersely as I reached her, "I'll go to Mulsantir with you."
Safiya nodded once, apparently relieved, and nodded to her right.
"It's about an hour's march this way. I'll take you to Lienna the moment we arrive."
I couldn't help but think that she'd be glad to be rid of me. I didn't blame her, but I didn't blame myself either. I tried not to blame the damn fools who'd kidnapped me and cut me up, and instead thought of how utterly marvellous a bath would be right about now. Yes, overriding my inner adolescent and thinking of what would actually be doable had been a good idea. As I watched Safiya walking ahead of me, her lips thin and pressed together, I almost felt bad about the fact that I'd be leaving her too soon to make up for the unruly little child I'd been since I'd awoken. Because Casavir would have wanted me to, I decided to apologise, but not until she'd delivered on her promise. And then, I'd be clean, healed, and, more importantly, going home.
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Elsewhere…
"So," she said, drawing up the chair by the bed and sitting down with a sigh, "still asleep, I see."
The midday winter sun streaming through the window gave the room a cold, but cheery glow. The figure lay prone on the bed, the same one he'd occupied for over a year, but hadn't moved from for almost two weeks.
"It's very rude of you, y'know, just listening and never answerin'," she continued slowly, "after all, you must get almost twenty people through here every day, checkin' up on you. Guess they must really like you 'round here."
She sighed again, hoping that this time he'd take the hint and open his eyes.
"You better wake up. She'll be pissed if she comes back just to find out you've been sleepin' this whole time." She paused, biting her lip. "If she ever does come back. They gave up the search yesterday, y'know. I figure that should be enough to get you t' wake up. They must've turned over every stone in that place. Bevil and Daeghun. Never much liked Daeghun m'self, but I guess I didn't know him like she did."
There was silence in the small, simple room. The woman, with her long, golden blonde hair and light, slate-coloured eyes allowed her gaze to run over his form, the sheets pulled up to his waist, the bandages encasing his torso, up to his head which was held in place with a cast. He was still ridiculously handsome, even with a number of healing gashes and bruises marring his features.
"I can see why she likes you. Hells, if she weren't my best friend I might have designs on you m'self," she smirked, "I bet you'd make one hell of a father." She leaned in, her face close to his, and whispered conspiratorially, "Maybe, if you never wake up, I'll make up some story and tell Jakob you were his daddy. Bet he'd be proud to have a man like you for his pa, 'stead of some swamp-born coward who couldn't stick around more'n a week." She shook her head, leaning back in her chair and sighing as she covered her still-sore belly with her hands. "Nah, she'd kill me if I did. Don't matter that she's probably dead, she'd find a way. Jus' like I'm sure she'll find her way back home. Back to you, back to me, hells, I don't care, long as she gets back," her voice broke on the last few words, and she bit her lip as a tear rolled down her cheek.
"It ain't fair," she continued, blinking quickly, "it ain't fair that she fought so hard just to die like this. She deserves more. So do you. I really, really hope you'll wake up, because maybe then I'll have someone to talk to who really understands other than Bevil. Her other companions, they cared about her, I know, but it ain't the same. I've known her all my life, and I know she loves you, so maybe you'll understand that they can't just…" she swallowed a sob, "…can't just give her some big ceremony, pull up a monument, and forget all about her. They can't."
She leaned in again, finding his hand with hers and clutching it tightly.
"I know I barely even know you, but she's gone, Bevil's away, and my baby's too young to be decent conversation, so…"
Her last words were raw and pleading.
"Please, please wake up."
His chest rose and fell with deep, slow breaths, ignoring her entirely.
Silence fell upon the room once more.
A.N. You didn't think I'd let Obsidian get away with that, did you? Next chapter: The plot thickens in Mulsantir, and Katriona (boo, hiss) makes an appearance...
Oh, and while you're here, why not leave a little note telling me you'd like the next chapter before 2010? It'll help, I promise ;)
