~*-{/=I=\}-*~

A ways in front of them, Minsc's bald head towered above tiny Dynaheir, and ahead of them walked the two half-elves; Khalid was pointing something in the undergrowth out to his wife, who'd just finished sniffing something out in her wolf-form.

And, somewhere, bringing up the rear, would be a cranky wizard. Imoen glanced behind them. "We're traveling with a pretty weird group of people, aren't we."

Sajantha looked over at her. "How do you mean?"

"How do ya think I mean?" Kind of went without saying, didn't it? Imoen scrubbed a hand through her hair. "Only thing weirder is if we kept on with those Zhentarim, too."

"I'm sure there's all manner of unusual folk adventuring. It's certainly not a profession most people would consider. Everyone has their own story that brought them to the road."

"I reckon that's true." Imoen shrugged. "Like, two girls from a library? It's more the combination of us all together, though, ain't it. We've got to be the first group in the history of the Realms carting along some Rashemi and a Thayvian who haven't tried to kill each other." Felt like she needed to add a 'yet' on there. Dynaheir would have to have a pretty solid reason to want to stick around, wouldn't she?

"Are you still worried about that? Is this about Edwin?"

"What? No, it ain't about him." Imoen gave her head a shake. "I don't even know what to think of him; he's all over the place."

"He isn't. You just have to know how to talk to him."

"Don't give me that!" Better wipe off that prim little expression Sajantha put on. "I ain't never seen him get so riled up at anything as at you." Even if he always calmed back down. " 'Know how to talk to him,' heh. You sure know how to make him mad."

Sajantha twisted one of her curls. "Well, I don't suppose as we agree on so very much."

"Some of the stuff he's said, though. About protecting yourself, fighting back. You... you know he's probably right. Right?"

Even odds whether she'd puff up or deflate, but Sajantha just looked tired. "I know." She touched her chest. "Part of me, at least. But, I can't just accept it like that—not without breaking off a piece of myself, to fit it in. If that makes sense."

"I get you. I think. But, no, you don't ever make no sense."

They bumped shoulders as Sajantha returned her smile; Imoen had to hop before their feet got tangled up. "You don't gotta walk so close." She took her friend's hand and squeezed it. "I ain't going nowhere."

Sajantha didn't say anything, but her knuckles turned white as she gripped back.

Imoen cleared her throat. "Damn, now you've gone and lost my train of thought, with that wizard."

Sajantha's head bobbed. "He does that."

"What was I talking about?"

"Everyone's weird."

"Yeah," Imoen sighed. "They sure are."

~*-{/=E=\}-*~

Edwin's hood blocked the worst of the glare; the setting sun reflected on the fortress's walls, bronzing them nearly as bright as the trees around it.

"I've never seen anything like it, these colors." Sajantha's voice certainly sounded amazed. No doubt she gawked up at the rippling leaves with the same wide-eyed wonder with which she'd gaped upon arriving at the Gate.

Worth far more note, the traffic about the inn appeared a great deal busier than their previous visit; the bandits must have lost their teeth as the Throne had begun losing its mines.

"The way the sun's hitting 'em, they look afire."

Edwin glanced up, only then. One could say the girl's hair looked aflame, as well, with that already wild disorder to it. She stared at her friend, biting at her lip. Fire. Guilt and regret still held the forefront of her mind, then; must she dwell upon them indefinitely?

"The change of seasons is so revelatory to you?" Best to switch the subject. "Next, you will tell us you've never before seen the snows of winter."

"No, we had ice storms every Deepwinter. And, during the Godswar. Just, not so many trees, there on the coast." Sajantha raised her eyebrows. "You're the one from a country where mages control the weather. How much snow have you seen?"

He raised one eyebrow back. "I must be so sheltered as yourself?"

"You must care a great deal for your country; you wouldn't have left it without good reason. Unless you had to, I bet. The knowledge you're after... have you found aught of it, yet?" Her open gaze was free of suspicion.

"Shortly, I imagine."

"Good." She tucked back a lock of hair. With no noticeable effect, as so many sprang out of place. "That's good. You know, I wonder if Haspur might be able to help with what you seek."

Surprisingly enough, the diviner had indeed proven competent; such a resource ought not be allowed to go to waste. "It is a possibility." Certainly, no one else was proving cooperative; the witch endured the force of his glare.

Sajantha followed his gaze, taking a step closer as she lowered her voice, "I get this feeling from her, that she doesn't trust me."

No surprise such a thing would grate upon her sensitive self. "So rare for you, is it, that this must chafe?"

"The way she stares at me, sometimes..." Sajantha walked close enough to him that he felt her shiver. "I don't much like that, feeling judged." She gave him a crooked smile as they passed through the outer gates.

He looked back, level. "You would do well to develop a thicker skin. The opinions of sheep should not matter."

The guards looked far from thrilled at the presence of a Red Wizard, averting their eyes as he passed, then staring daggers into his back. Perhaps they recalled him from last time.

She glanced behind them. "It doesn't bother you? When others do it to you."

"I do not allow their opinions to influence me."

"That doesn't mean it doesn't bother you."

Edwin drew in a sharp breath. "Their lives matter nothing to me, why should their views?" Not enough to erase her expectant look; just what did she wish him to reveal? His shoulder came up in a shrug. "I should be offended, if this is the only way they know to show their respect?"

"Why, is that the only way you know, to accept it? Fear's not the same as respect."

Bothersome little chit! He picked up speed. "And endurance is not the same as tolerance! Do not attempt to test my limits."

Sajantha kept step with him, though her voice was almost breathless, "You wish I was afraid of you, too—is that it?"

"It is truly a sign of your naivete, if you are not." Certainly, no other dared to press him so.

"I didn't ask whether I ought to be afraid. I asked if you'd wish it."

As though she were a buzzing insect flying circles about his head, forcing him to slap at the air, to no effect! Less strenuous to play along. "I doubt even that would be enough to keep you quiet." He glanced down to find a smile hiding behind her intent expression. "Hmph. It may be you have enough already to worry after."

"Is that a 'no?' " The smile snuck the rest of the way onto her face. "That's a 'no.' I knew it must bother you."

"I did not say that."

"You don't say a lot of things," she agreed. "Very carefully."

"Far better than prancing about in constant chatter!"

She only smiled—as if she'd achieved some sort of victory!—but, her gaze lost focus as it slipped back towards her friend.

For all the good her attention would do, there! "Why do you stare after her? She will not suddenly fall if you cease your vigilance." Time to pay more heed to their surroundings, now that they'd passed within the gates. "Best be concerned with your own safety, where we go to." The fools believing they could claim her bounty would not soon wise up. If they'd not needed supplies, 'twould have been best to avoid the place, altogether.

Her smile flickered. "Aye." She clasped her hands behind her back, looking up at him. "I'll be more careful, this time."

The girl at her most careful would not even measure Edwin at his least. Still, it was something. "I will believe that when I see it."

"Well, I might still need your help. You're right."

" 'Might?' You've quite the journey ahead, before you need me not."

"So..." She cleared her throat. "What would you recommend?" Her full attention upon him, now, no sneaking eyes slid off to her friend.

Where to begin? "Keep to yourself; speak to no one. If you absolutely must, then take no one at their word. There is nothing so useful to a liar as the trust of the innocent."

She looked away, touching her forehead.

"What?"

"I..." She gave her head a shake. "The first time I was here. I just... a lot has changed."

"Do not leave your back open. Sit with a wall behind you, when you can. Wherever affords the best view, with the least traffic. Face the doors."

"Is that it?"

"I have barely begun! You think I could cover even the basics of survival in a handful of sentences? It is a way of life, not an attitude you recall when convenient. You know nothing."

She stared back, eyes scanning his own, then swallowed. "Is it hard?" she asked. "To be so vigilant—so suspicious—of everyone, always."

"Ah, yes," he mocked. "You think it must be difficult?" She'd said much the same, before. "Tiring?"

"Lonely." Her voice was soft.

"Pfeh! This kind of sentimental nonsense is what results when you put others before your own well-being." He turned away. "Do not press your delicate values upon me; I'll not have it."

"Don't–"

They both looked down at the hand she'd wrapped 'round his bracer.

Her fingers opened and she drew back her arm, blinking—perhaps even more surprised than he—but, with what was surely chagrin coloring her face, she knew she'd overstepped. "I didn't mean it like that—I'm sorry. Don't go. I'm listening, I'm trying. Please."

He brushed his sleeve. "You are worried." Past time she approached her situation with something resembling seriousness. "Good: you should be."

~*-{/=I=\}-*~

The ground jerked beneath her. No: the bed. In a bed, in a square room, and the shaking wasn't no attack or the stone walls caving in, just Sajantha. "You okay?" Imoen wrestled back a yawn. "One of your dreams, again?"

"My father," she murmured. "Him and Ulraunt, a long time ago... I, I don't know." She hunched up, holding a hand to her face. "They were arguing about me."

"Ulraunt? Must've been a nightmare, then."

"And, a raven. The eyes..." She touched her own, then let out a little laugh. "It sounds stupid. I don't even remember." She laid back down, but so stiff and straight that she couldn't be asleep.

~*-{/=S=\}-*~

Even early in the morning, people and noise already crowded the inn, but it was never difficult to pick out Edwin and his robes. One more interesting contradiction, with his regard for caution. Perhaps he was right—with the reputation that red lent—most would know better than to challenge him.

Snug in the back corner of the dining hall, bent over the tome, Edwin did not look up at her approach—uninterested, perhaps, but not unaware: a brief shimmer signaled some magical defense. Almost as if she'd walked beneath some protection spell, the air—as if charged—prickled across her skin as she slid onto the seat beside him.

Edwin tensed. "What are you doing?"

The couch had seemed far larger from afar, but it was too late to do aught except try not to bump his shoulder as she shrugged. "None of the tables facing the door were open." Sajantha smoothed her skirts as she settled in. "But, I knew you'd have picked a good spot."

"Of course I did. This does not mean I am inclined to share it."

"I've heard survival involves making compromises."

He returned to his book, fingers propping along his jaw. "The day my survival depends upon your aid will be a dark one, indeed."

Again, came a flicker. Edwin paid the surroundings little attention, for something else did for him. She tilted her head. "Hello, Raviwr." The blur came into focus a brief moment, then disappeared again as Edwin's eyes flicked up.

"Have you come to disturb me, or my familiar?"

"Neither. I'd not say my intent was to 'disturb' you."

"Unfortunate that you so excel at it."

Sajantha bit her lip. Perhaps the imp would be more responsive? Invisible, though. She reached out with her senses; it took but a moment to ensure she faced the right direction: "How fare you, this fine morn?"

A burst of magic flared, sending a prickle across the back of her neck; Raviwr had teleported behind her to the far side of the couch, where he became fully visible, small red eyes staring at her.

"Hello," she said again, fingers compelled to give him a little wave. What else to do with them? "Ought we shake hands—or, no? I shouldn't like to offend you; I've never before met an imp."

"Nor should you begin, now." Edwin turned a page. "The creature is not worth your attention."

"Mayhap I'm worth his, though, if I'm not worth yours." She held her hand out towards Raviwr; he took a cautious hop forward, wings fluttering.

"Fine!" The book snapped closed. "Just what is it that you want?"

"Not your begrudging attention; no need to strain yourself." The imp reached out, and she shook his tiny hand with three of her fingers.

A dart of magic zapped into her fingertips, sending a spine-straightening tingle all the way through her. "Ouch!" Her hand flew back so fast that her elbow dug into Edwin, behind her; he jerked upright.

"Now the pretty lady knows imps." Raviwr let out a little cackle, sharing a sharp-toothed smile with her.

A laugh caught in her throat, breaking free as she looked up to see Edwin's ire.

"Enough!" It took a moment to determine at whom he aimed it—really, the whole thing was rather funny, though laughter would likely make it worse—but Edwin pointed at the imp, waving him off. "Leave us be, you stupid thing!"

The imp vanished, outright—not invisible, anymore—entirely gone. Sajantha turned to Edwin.

He had a scowl for her. "What!" he demanded. "I suppose you think I should tolerate this sort of disrespect."

Her lips pressed together. "I think intolerance could be the source of a good deal of your troubles, aye."

Her suppressed smile hadn't gone unnoticed; his scowl deepened. "And yours seems to be poking your fingers where all sense dictates you leave well-enough alone."

"Hm." She rubbed her hand. "Another lesson from you?"

"If I thought you would heed it," he muttered, settling back. "I imagine a far stronger jolt is in order."

"I'm sorry." She reached back to smooth the cushion before clasping her hands over her knee. "I honestly didn't intend to disturb you. I just," she rolled her shoulders, "it's seemed rather quiet." Like the hush before a storm, the stillness only called attention to what would surely come; the anticipation sat heavy in her chest.

"And this is unbearable for you? No wonder you insist upon filling the world with noise."

"The bounty hunters must have all been put off by my exemplary watchfulness." She tilted her head towards him. "Do you suppose?"

Edwin frowned—but, for a moment, only—with hope, he realized it for a jest.

"Or yours, of course," she continued. "I'd think you to be about the best deterrent possible. Short of a dragon outside my door."

"Hmph. You think I scare everyone off, then?"

"I think you try to."

His eyes narrowed, and her heart skipped a beat; perhaps she poked too closely, then.

"Not that you don't excel at it! 'Tis but one of your many skills." One he seemed to take particular delight in, keeping everyone at a distance. "I don't imagine many would wish to tangle with a Red Wizard."

"You would be surprised."

She turned to better face him. "How do you mean?"

"I do not stoop to know what occurs in the dimwitted minds of monkeys! But, one being strongest is one being constantly challenged to prove it. There are no end to the fools wishing to test themselves against my patience."

Is that what Thay was like, to so cause his vigilance? "That must be rather draining."

Edwin gave a shrug. "What I find far more draining are the ones whose company I must suffer." He eyed her. "Especially for prolonged periods of time."

Subtle or overt, there seemed no end to his insults. Sajantha stared down at her hands. "Do you wish I was dead, ever? That you had just killed me." Her eyes rose to find his face for a moment unguarded; she'd managed to surprise him. "Or stood aside and watched me die, rather. If it's so very dreadful to 'suffer' us all the time, I mean."

He straightened, slowly, and leaned back. "Is this your fear?"

"Ought it be?" He'd turned the question around, of course he had—and did not answer hers—now it was she who must fumble for footing. "Would you still be with the bandits, then, I wonder? If you'd stayed, you'd probably be running the entire camp, by now."

His mouth twitched.

"King of the anthill, and all," she added, lest he look too fondly upon it.

A hand rose to briefly cover his lower face.

"If you'd not just left the entire place burning behind you, of course. Or, perhaps you'd have gone on and rejoined with your kinsmen?" She tilted her head. "Maybe you'd be staying in this very inn with them, right now. Though, the demon would have to wait outside. They'd probably still be cross with you; perhaps that would have ended the same. Or, not, if you didn't have our help..."

He waited as she dug the hole deeper, lips stretching 'til he surely wore a smile. "I reside in reality, as I have said. Care to join me? There is little use in considering hypothetical events which have no bearing upon us; this conjecture serves no purpose."

"A different point of view, though. It could serve for that."

"Ah. Attempting to put this into perspective for me, I see. Verily, there are yet worse places to be. It has been... interesting, if aggravating. (In no small fault your own.) But, Sajantha," he shook his head, "we have had this conversation before. Are you so faithless as to need it repeated? You should not care so much for validation from others."

"Sheep." She cleared her throat. "You said I oughtn't care for the opinions of sheep."

Yes, he definitely had a smile, though something in it set free a flutter in her chest. "You require reassurance from me, then?" He peaked his fingers together, then lowered them between his knees as he leaned forward. "My dear, you do not seem to realize: if I wished you dead, you would be." He spread his hands. "It is as simple as that."

So confident, so certain. So smug. "That's how you do reassuring?" She raised her eyebrows, and he lowered his.

"You do not find it so? Then you are making this far more complicated than it needs be."

"No, I suppose I can accept that." It hardly qualified as comforting, yet it had a warmth to it, all the same. Within his own particular context. "If that's the best you can do."

He frowned, drawing back. "The fact you yet live should be all the reassurance you require: 'no need to strain yourself' over-thinking. Rest assured, if I am with you, there must be a reason for it. I invest my time; I do not waste it. Nor do I allow my investments to be compromised."

"That's a bit better," she freed her smile, "thank you."

His frown deepened a moment as he realized she'd only been teasing him. Still, he glared, but he'd lost the sharpness to it.

"You might not even have to try so very hard to keep me alive, at that; there's been no sign of danger. Do you suppose no one's meaning to attack me, after all?"

"Hm." His eyes lifted to scan the room. "How else do we explain your going a whole evening without falling into trouble?"

Her shoulders shrugged up. "There weren't any windows in my room, this time."

He paused to shake his head, the only acknowledgment of her joke. "It is early, yet. But, what reason for the threat to suddenly vanish?"

"It would help if we knew why I'd even been marked, in the first place."

"Indeed. Your life may be worth more than your death only if they may make use of it." His gaze drifted to the table where the others sat. "Tell me of the woman who directed you here."

"From the Throne? She's from the eastern lands, I think. She had a restless melancholy about her, like she wanted to help me, yet didn't want to let herself, at the same time."

A dismissive gesture sliced through her description. "You trusted her."

"You think I shouldn't have?"

"Have you listened to nothing I've said?" The familiar sneer had returned. "You should not trust anyone."

"Including you. You said that, too."

"I said you would be a fool to." And with such an expression on his face as he'd said it! He didn't want her to trust him. A 'liability.' He just didn't—couldn't—believe in such a thing, at all.

She touched her necklace. "You all think I'm a fool, already. But, you know what? I'd rather die a fool—for something I believe in—than turn my back on it, and live forever."

Edwin did not scoff, did not laugh at her nor get angry; the flat stare as he moved to fully face her was far more jarring. "Pray that none ever put your convictions to the test, lest you discover a truth about yourself difficult to accept."

Her spine went stiff. "This is more of you not believing in the good in people? You don't know me. What I'm capable of."

"Nor do you." Edwin stared back, eyes dark. "You tell me, 'magic is everything,' then turn your back on it, for your friend. I wonder what else would you do, for her?" He shook his head. "Say what you like; what matters is only what you do. And you've no idea, yet, what you are capable of."

Something stirred inside her; Sajantha looked away, touching her chest. "You're right; maybe I don't know." Maybe she didn't want to. But, he wasn't the only one who could play this game! "You know so much, don't you? You think you know everything. Well, I know something, too."

Her arms held her weight as she leaned forward. "I know what it is you're scared of." She lowered her voice. "And, I don't think you do."

Edwin raised his chin, hand coming up over it.

"Trusting someone gives them power over you—it gives them the power to hurt you. And that bothers you, doesn't it? Being vulnerable. You don't want to believe in anyone, because you're convinced they'll only let you down."

"I do not need to weaken myself to the lowest common denominator when I am far stronger on my own." He straightened his robes, perched very near the edge of the couch. "This is what you think I am scared of?"

"No. I think you're scared to believe in anything."

He let out a short laugh. "I believe in many things. I believe there is no limit to human stupidity, I believe that trusting your life to another is the surest way to lose it, and I believe that if one has wings, one ought not crawl through life."

"That's not what I meant. You know it's not! Believing in something is different. Having faith in it. Good things: kindness, friendship. Hope."

He gave his head a shake, with a strange twist to his lips, as if—for once—she wasn't even worth mocking. "My beliefs are founded in experience. From whence come yours? The tales your father told you? It is a long drop from the shining towers of Candlekeep to the real world. You should be grateful someone attempts to cushion your fall."

Her cheeks warmed. "You're patronizing to me because you've seen things I haven't. Fine. Mightn't it be I've seen things you haven't? Just because you've never experienced them doesn't make them less real. Less worthy. You can only see what you expect to—what you're already looking for."

"You would be familiar with this condition, wouldn't you?"

He always had a response ready, some way to deflect her. But, there had to be some way through to him! "There's things—good things—worth believing in. Good people." She'd find a way to show him. "I'm right. I know I'm right."

"Do not let my logic stand in the way of your convictions."

"You mock me for it, often enough." Her father's ring was cold between her fingers. "I'm... don't you think I'm a good person?"

"Sajantha." Edwin shook his head, shaking off her words as he shifted his weight towards her. "There is only one thing in this world worth believing in. And I do not think that you know what it is."

"Knowledge?" Was this a riddle, of some kind? "The gods? I don't know. Truth?"

"Oneself. I believe in myself, and that is all that I need." He leaned back. "You want to be 'good?' " The smile he gave her took her breath. "Why settle, when you could be great?"

~*-{/=I=\}-*~

Kind of difficult to keep to their morning lessons out in public, like this. And Dynaheir didn't seem so much in the mood, neither; Imoen didn't ask her about it, just kept eating. May as well enjoy a good-cooked meal, before it was back to eating squirrel food.

No one else seemed much for talking, never mind the noise of the crowd around them; of all of them, just Minsc was holding up a conversation with Boo. Or at least he laughed a bit every now and then, like the hamster had said something funny.

Imoen looked over at the Harpers. "So, y'all ever been to Candlekeep?"

"No," said Jaheira, lifting her fork.

"I imagine it will b-be an interesting experience," Khalid said. "You'll have to show us around, if we've the time."

Time? That's not what they'd be short on, though; Imoen squirmed. Probably shouldn't have said anything. "Sure would be nice to have some time to ourselves, yeah." What would that be like? Winthrop had always done his damnedest making sure Imoen stayed busy, as if she didn't have enough things grabbing at her attention, anyway!

"We'll have to come back, sometime, once we've got this wrapped up good." She gave Khalid a grin. "I'll show you all the most interesting spots. And you'll have to try some of Puffguts' sweet rolls! Oh, and you can poke around at the books, I guess, if that's what you're into."

"I would like that," he smiled.

"How 'bout you, Minsc? Dreppin's got himself a cow he loves near as much as you and Boo. Maybe you two could, uh, swap stories, or something."

Minsc nodded. "Few people believe the stories of Minsc and Boo, and most look at us strange. It is rare to find one who listens!" He tilted his head. "But, I think a cow familiar might be stranger than even a miniature giant space hamster."

"A hamster's pretty strange, though, you gotta admit. Don't look at me like that, Boo; you know it's true!" It was Minsc who looked a bit put-off; the hamster just twitched his nose at her. "But, strange don't mean bad. And, there's sure stranger things, in all the Realms."

Maybe there really was such a thing as miniature giant space hamsters; gods knew there wasn't no shortage of oddities across the planes. One of the monks probably knew; she'd have to ask. Extra-planar creatures, hm. Maybe Edwin would know. Not that he liked Boo, much. Or Minsc. Or anyone.

No surprise Sajantha had gone and found the wizard all sitting by himself and had to do something about it. At least she was safe enough with him. Right? Something fluttered in Imoen's stomach as she looked over to them in the corner. The same couch they'd first met Khalid on, all those months ago.

Imoen let out a sigh. "Still trying to make him feel like 'part of the group,' I guess. Maybe at some point she'll get him to come sit next to us, and talk to someone more 'n just her."

Khalid followed her gaze, then cocked his head as he looked back at her. "M-maybe it would help if she wasn't the only one of us trying."

[Author's Note]: Forgot to mention in the last chapter, Sajantha's song was based on Wagner's Rhinegold (The Ring of the Nibelung) opera. "Friendly Arm" scene illustration here: artastrophe dot deviantart dotcom /art/BG-Friendly-Arm-437523349