I should not have dreamt of Imoen; the waking dream I stepped into was there for me to scout a path, to find a way to the walls; we would run the blockade. Once we left the city, there would be no return until the guild war was resolved. The sewers were too dangerous, even if I could convince Aerie to enter them. The vision of being in darkness under earth, rock and mortar, city streets and buildings made me shudder; it would terrify her.

Nalia might refuse that road; even if we took it, it was a battlefield of thieves and vampires, and other dangers. Not to mention the rotting swell of the city's refuse. Unless Edwin had been holding out on us, he knew no portal spells; even if he did, the magical embargo the cowls had put on the city restricted "unauthorised access."; we'd have a dozen of them on top of us. Bribe the guards? Always a possibility, but money could leave a trail, and we did not want to be mistaken for thieves.

I had been considering the problem of this dilemma; we could disguise ourselves as refugees, take a cart out, assuming we could skip the fortified points along the river, but that led us into the chaotic unknowns where murder and skirmishes ran rampant. Given what I was, perhaps it would have been an ideal place for me and others of my kind, but I was not that person.

The sirines had taught me how to bend light, blend into my surroundings; veil myself from the eye. Myself, I could manage, though I had little reason to use it; unlike my sirines, I did not stand in just my skin, and my clothes faded too. In the dream, I could make others not notice me, or hold their attention captive, so others could slip past; I wondered how much I could conceal, if, as I concentrated, I could hide a table; a door, a room? Two people? Seven people?

Mine was not the magic of wizards; Aerie herself had said so. I could hide my power, the well inside; could I actively mask it from detection? Heat, light sound; these things were easy. There were still… traces of a person; scent, yes, but more… something deeper. Veiling those took more focus. If I could hold it for long enough, we could be up and over the wall before anyone knew. But what of the safeguards, the wards? How powerful would they be; could I break them? Could Edwin? That would certainly alert them to us. A distraction elsewhere? But they would still feel their perimeter being breeched.

But perhaps there was one thing they had not counted on. If we could make it to the river, we could settle into the current; allow ourselves to be swept out, and row back to the shoreline. Debris floated down there all the time; they would be watching for others trying to come in, not get out. For that, though, we needed a craft; and there was nothing to guarantee we would not be shot by the guards.

As it happened, a far simpler, and elegant solution was found. The "Lady De'Arnise" merely sent word to those of her father's friends, including one Keldorn Firecam, a senior paladin in the Order of the Radiant Hart, explaining she no longer felt safe in the city and wished to return to the sanctity of her ancestral home. She was leaving tonight, with a small but trusted escort, and expected the gates to be opened to her; she would sooner brave the night and the unknown than remain another day in uncertainty. No matter what was said, she insisted, and unless they intended to physically restrain her, compromising her honour, person and the aristocratic elite's integrity, they would allow her on her way.

For once, her demanding nobility came in useful; unfortunately, the old paladin assigned us an escort of city guard led by an acolyte of his order, one Anomen Delryn. He would arrival shortly.

While I pondered and plotted, mulling over the whys, hows, wheres and whens, I saw my sister. Black faced, afraid; chilled, as if death's grip had found her. Her eyes no longer shone; she seemed… broken. Even in the dream, I found her distant, as if lost in reflection, in her own reflection, as she stared endlessly.

I told her to hold on, that we were coming; was I too late a second time? Had I failed her again? As I reached into the depths of my essence, plunging into the divine wellspring, something flickered; a tinge of recognition. Her lips lifted, but the smile never reached her eyes; a silent scream rose up from the very depths of her; vast emptiness… a hole… All faded to black, dragging me with it; her image shrinking fast. The scream within her turned into my own; with a cry, I awoke, horror fleeing my lips.

She was woken, and so was I.

Someone called my name; I did not hear them. They shook me, trying again, "…What is it? What's wrong?"

"Imoen," I gasped, "He – he… she's… empty." It did not make sense, but that was the only way I could explain; "He's… taken something – she's not herself. She's… gone."

Fury filled me, and its power was great indeed; this was what the skull had been waiting for. So white hot was my rising wrath, it swelled like the tide, like the great waves; the storm that shook the mountains. I had become my father's image, his avatar. So great was the power, I could have flattened a wall; ground it to dust, just as Imoen had. My eyes glowed as hers, as Sarevok's; I felt the taint, the sickly film, the dirty, defiling presence, and beneath my power, my inheritance, I felt the skull. I felt its anticipation, its whispers, its lust for destruction – for murder. I felt it urging me in silence to test the limits, to find I had none, that I could be more than this, greater than any mortal. The same lies it told the rest of my siblings.

I felt the shock of my companions; how they drew back, primal instinct warning them against the horror of my rage. Of my power. I demanded fear; I deserved to be worshipped. The skull did not have to say these things; I felt it in my bones, in my blood. My blood became power; it coursed through me. My very essence, my very being was power. I was a god. A god in mortal form; this image of flesh, this veil of frailty; it was the lie I was trapped in. I could overcome it, surpass it. All I need do was give way to my power, to unleash the constraints; I need only use it once, and the gate would be open. I was greater than Sarevok, greater than all of my siblings; I could destroy our captor.

Aerie's eyes were wide, terrified; Jaheira's had hardened, her hand on her belt knife. I could have crushed her before she ever drew it. Nalia stopped still in the doorway; Minsc, who was a step behind, asked what was wrong, looked up, saw me, and fear painted his gaze; they were in the presence of the force all men fear when confronted by the rawness of power; the presence that drew believers from all nations; the sculpting of sheer might. I towered above these insects.

Sarevok's eyes had been golden; mine were white, twin points of light. I blazed like the sun; not even Imoen shone so brightly. She was puny compared to the strength I held. I could crush her, crush all of them. My destiny was to rule, to take my place amongst the greatest of gods, and after my ascension, I would be the greatest. None could stop me; I would murder them, as I murdered my siblings. No god would stand against me; I would take the power of all of them! Even the Overfather was nothing compared to my domain. I would murder my father's shade, and seize his throne!

A flicker of confusion halted the wave; I stopped. Seize his throne? Crush… Imoen? No, that wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to restore Imoen. Yes, I could do that and more; I could do anything! It didn't matter–

Imoen mattered, the small thought whispered.

The power was what mattered! The power to do anything–

But why would I want that? Wasn't the why to save her? To keep her from harm?

Nothing would ever harm her again! I would crush our captor, destroy any who stood against me!

Is that what I wanted? Is that who Imoen wanted? A destroyer?

She was weak! The skull thundered, weak! Weak enough that she was captured, tortured; that she could not destroy her foes! Weak for having not killed me!

Why would I want her to kill me?

Because she will betray me! It is in her blood! Her very nature is murder! Just as yours is!

The memory of a promise; small, clinging. Together, we said.

Fool! Such weakness is what led to this! Destroy her and rid yourself of the chains! She is the cage, the true cage!

Is that what you told her?

She was too weak, and so are you! You have the power! Use what has been given to you! Destroy them! Begin with these, these things that are less than you! Destroy them!

Destroy… Jaheira? She was staring at me intently; awe, fear, suspicion, doubt. Hadn't she just held me as I wept? Her warmth as I rested my head on her shoulder?

MORTAL WEAKNESS. RID YOURSELF OF IT.

She had become like family…

SHE WILL DESTROY YOU. END HER. IT IS WHAT YOU ARE. YOU WERE BORN FOR SACRIFICE; I DEMAND AN OFFERING OF THE SLAIN. BRING ME HER BLOOD–

I love you. Imoen's words, as I drifted, alone and lost in darkness, trapped in a jar…

ENOUGH! YOU ARE MY CREATURE! YOU SHALL NOT DEFY ME–

Do you remember… Candlekeep? The storms we watched? How safe we felt? You and me, together, where nothing could hurt us? How the darkness couldn't reach us? Because we were together? You stole my books, teased me, but you were always there…

YOU WILL OBEY–

My… sister. If I cannot be with you, cannot see your smile, hear your laugh, if we cannot laugh together, the world is an empty dream from which I long to awaken… I cannot let you die.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP!

I love you.

YOU CANNOT! THIS IS YOUR ESSENCE. YOU CANNOT DENY YOUR NATURE–

I saw her face, and poured life into the husk, filling the emptiness with my own. Dizziness hit me in waves, but still I poured.

NO–

More and more, like scoping water in my hands at first, then a bucket; a trickle became a flood. Light sprang back into her eyes, and I fell to my knees.

As darkness descended, Edwin walked in, oblivious to the exchange. "Well?" he snapped, his voice growing faint in my ears, "Why are you all standing there? (Don't these simians have better things to do than stand and gawk?)" His eyes locked onto mine; I felt like I was floating, drifting… a vision of golden dust, shimmering, rising inside me. Was I dreaming? Everything faded.

Nothingness.